(Early November)
(*)
Thranduil trained his ears on the forest from behind the pine trees where he hid. He was almost always able to pick out the Silvans' false bird calls from the real ones now, but it was embarrassing to be wrong. He was determined to make a good impression during this venture. It wasn't just common Silvan hunters or harvesters joining him and his people this time: Rauwen was coming.
He listened to the chirps, whispers, and caws of small things going about their day, trying to guess what each one was. A squirrel claiming its territory. The crows that frequented the forest at the edge of Amon Lanc, taunting a falcon. A breeze, perhaps, or maybe a snake in the dry leaves underfoot. The goings on in his new lands were becoming familiar.
There! That whistling tune. He was certain it was her.
Thranduil returned the call, guiding Rauwen to his hiding spot. He realized his hand was on his sword hilt, although he couldn't remember putting it there. Not a bad instinct, still. They were venturing into unknown territory today.
Meldisser made to step out of the trees, but he motioned for her to be still.
"It is them," she whispered. "They will walk past us."
"Wait," he replied.
The Silvans wouldn't burst out from the trees like that, so neither would those in his charge. The branches around them rustled. Thranduil kept a loose grip on his sword until he saw Rauwen's face emerging among the pine needles.
He bowed. "Tywysoges," he said quietly.
"Lieutenant," Rauwen said with an approving nod. "This is a good spot, but do not overuse it. It is easy to wear a track at this time of year, with so many dry leaves on the ground"
Thranduil nodded at her, making a note to himself to carry that message back to Gilroch and his father. The Silvans had shown them how to cover their tracks. They must remember to do it consistently.
Sûlwen appeared at Rauwen's shoulder, as Thranduil had learned she often did. He'd come to think there was something between the two ellith. He'd known of elves in Menegroth who had special friendships, almost akin to having a spouse. Some of those elves never married at all. Perhaps the Silvans had such bonds as well, he thought, suddenly and inexplicably unhappy.
He wondered if he ought to use one of the more nuanced words for such things in Sindarin. Did they have a gwend or melgwend ? Should he refer to Sûlwen as Rauwen's mellon,, mellest, or melvellon? Would she even know the difference, given her preference for using her native Silvan language whenever she could?
"Are we ready?" Sûlwen chirped. "This ought to be fun! I always like exploring."
Thranduil couldn't help but smile at her, chipper as she was. "My people are ready. Your niece has been looking forward to your company."
Sûlwen beamed and eased past him to greet Meldisser.
"You know the boundaries of your lands, Lieutenant?" Rauwen asked. Her eyes sparkled as they tracked her friend, but she pulled her attention back to him.
"Yes," Thranduil agreed. "We were given instruction before we left your grandfather. Emrys knew the area well enough to take note, although much has changed since he was here last. I expect some of the landmarks may have shifted. Tuilinher walks with us. She knows what Emrys knows."
Rauwen nodded, satisfied. She looked behind her and urged Erisdir forward.
"Let the Cyfarwyddion lead us, then, I think," she said. "We will see what may be gathered or hunted in your lands — now or later in the year. We are splitting the spoils of this venture, correct?"
Thranduil nodded in agreement. "Half and half, as agreed. I am satisfied to follow the harpers as guides."
He had come to appreciate Rauwen's urgency around preparing for winter. He'd been on long journeys before, but before this they'd always ended somewhere where they could replenish their supplies. The Havens had been established for years before the Iathrim straggled into the town.
Now, four months of hunting and foraging in this wood to feed themselves until the spring had awakened him to the challenges ahead. And his people had taken generously from Rauwen's lands starting that summer, so she and her expanded clan were in no better position. He felt they owed her for that generosity. For the next year at least, the fates of their people were bound together.
He knew they had enough now for everyone to survive, but if they did not find more, they would all feel the bite of a lean winter. If the Silvans who read weather signs were correct, time was running low before the first unpredictable snowstorms began to interrupt their foraging. He was keen not to waste a single day.
"Everything seems in order," Rauwen said. "We should go. No reason to waste daylight with the year fading as it is. I will guard the rear while we cover our tracks."
Thranduil turned to the group he led, pointing two of his people. "Help cover our tracks. Make sure it is done to Tywysoges' Rauwen's satisfaction. We must master these skills."
Rauwen's approving smile lifted Thranduil's mood as much as the sun bursting out from the clouds on a rainy day.
"Lieutenant," she said with a nod, and gestured that he should lead them on.
He gestured to Tuilinher and Erisdir, who were standing together quietly in the eerie silence of mind-speech. Erisdir smiled at Tuilinher, who happily took the lead.
Tuilinher at least, was a boon to his people, Thranduil thought. She was friendly and clever. She was good at sharing advice with Oropher without setting the leader on edge. Thranduil hoped she'd stay with them once she'd been awarded mastery by her Guild. Then perhaps Emrys would go home to Lenwë and leave the Sindar alone.
(*)
For three days, Rauwen trailed behind, watching everything. When she'd first delivered the news, it had turned her clan upside down for weeks. Many of the elves who could speak enough Sindarin had already become friendly with the Sindar clan, and found it easy enough to accept that they would be neighbors.
Others were fearful and upset about the rebuilding of Amon Lanc. Rauwen had received her new clan members from Braignir and Lavangwen soon after she'd returned, but after some hasty messages sent through the harpers to gain approvals, she'd sent more people back to her mother's clan than she'd received once those unwilling to live in the shadow of Amon Lanc had gone. Nonetheless, she still had to have two more roundhouses built and spend time ensuring everyone was acclimating to each other.
And then there was the matter of the Sindar. Suddenly every occasion to hunt, fish, gather, or prepare food was also an occasion to teach, but also to negotiate how the spoils would be split. This was a time of year she normally looked forward to joining in as her clan ventured into the forest to enjoy the bounty of the Greenwood. They'd go stalking, set traps, and forage, enjoying each other's company and the teeming, happy green voices of their trees.
Not so this summer.
This summer, she oversaw the delegation of tasks, held a council at least every week to discuss ideas and concerns, and was obliged to hike up the eerily quiet slopes of Amon Lanc to speak with her people working there, and with Oropher, Elraënor, and Emrys. What she wanted more than anything was for them to prove that they no longer needed minding, so she and her clan could settle into each other at their own rhythm.
Now, her exploration party with Thranduil had paused. They'd found a patch of forest littered with chestnut trees that had begun to drop the first of a plentiful crop. For the rest of the day, they would stay to gather the nuts. It was a very good find.
From across the grove, a movement caught her eye. Thranduil was walking across the grove towards her, his pale hair catching the sun when he passed under the bare branches.
"My Lady," Thranduil greeted her. "I have an idea I would like your opinion on."
"Go on, then," she said.
She smiled to encourage him. She couldn't deny he was a good Lieutenant, and his woodcraft had improved steadily as autumn wore on. He was less personal than she was with her people, but the Sindar followed him willingly. Their trust in him had rubbed off onto the Silvans he'd worked with, for he took their advice on local matters seriously. Now, when he made a strategic decision for a mixed group, the Silvans followed his orders as easily as one of their own.
"We do not need everyone to finish this harvest," he said.
He gestured to a stream that ran by the edge of the grove. "I would like to take a small group and follow that creek. It is good to know the waterways in one's lands, do you agree?"
Rauwen nodded. It was a smart idea. She considered whether she should join the party, in case something unexpected turned up. But Thranduil had been doing well on this venture…
"It is a good thought," she said."Sûlwen!" She called, smiling when her friend came skipping over, grinning.
"What a find this grove is!" Sûlwen said. "We will be coming to you in the future to trade for chestnuts, Lieutenant. I wish we had one just Iike it!"
Rauwen chuckled. She'd had similar thoughts herself. "Sûlwen, the Lieutenant will be taking a few elves to explore the creek while the rest of us work on gathering. Go with him, will you? This stream reminds me of the one where you get your clay. There may be another bed somewhere."
"Ah, good!" Sûlwen said. "Can Meldisser join us as well?"
Rauwen looked at Thranduil. He shrugged. "Of course," he agreed.
"Will you be adding all this to your 'map,' Lieutenant Thranduil?" Sûlwen said, waving her niece over.
"Yes," he chuckled. "I am recording all the areas of note so we know where to harvest and hunt, or what to avoid."
Rauwen shook her head at him and rolled her eyes. "Absurd. You will remember where everything is once you have seen it. Just tell the others what landmarks to look for or lead them there yourself. I still do not see how charcoal scribbles make anything easier."
"I like the 'map,' it is interesting!" Sûlwen said. "Meldisser has agreed to teach me to write in Sindarin. She says there were whole halls of stories in Menegroth and the Havens. The things one could learn in such a room!"
"You would learn to write Tengwar, not just Sindarin," Thranduil said. "You could write the Silvan tongue using the same script, if you liked. It is based on sounds, so you can record anything. Lady Rauwen, I could show you."
"Thank you, no," Rauwen said primly. "I am a wood elf. I have no need to read or write. Would you replace the pleasure of sharing a tale on a winter night with staring at a piece of hide?"
"Suit yourself. It can be efficient. It does allow one to avoid some of the wordier teachers at times," he said. Rauwen caught a teasing glint in his eyes. "You cannot tell a respected elder to be silent, but you can put a scroll down and walk away."
Meldisser giggled. "Some of them write as much as they say, though."
"But you can skip sections," Thranduil argued.
"Patience is a virtue," Rauwen sniffed.
"Oh? How would you know?" Sûlwen snickered.
Rauwen pushed her friend's shoulder, feigning offense. But really, she was relieved. Happy, even. It was a pleasure to be in the woods again, being one with her people even as she led them, and now almost as comfortable with these Sindar. She was sick to death of negotiations and keeping up appearances in front of Oropher.
"Get out of here," Rauwen said. She shoved Sûlwen, who pretended to stumble and gasp. "And do not hassle the good Lieutenant when you do."
"I would not dream of it," Sûlwen said, giving Thranduil an exaggerated bow. "This is a very serious venture. I shall seek out clay beds with the zeal of a dog following a scent."
Thranduil raised one eyebrow at the Silvan elleth, the edge of his mouth quivering. His eyes flicked to Rauwen, who grinned at him.
"Keep your eye on that one, she is a scoundrel," she said with a wink.
(*)
"Lieutenant, wait! Look at this!" Meldisser said from behind a screen of branches.
Thranduil eyed the lengthening shadows, considering how much time they had before sunset. But the rest of the group was not far away now. His small party had doubled back some time ago, although he would have liked to see more of the creek. It was rich with life, and could be a valuable resource to his clan.
"Keep your voice down," he warned Meldisser, but he gestured that the others should join as he followed her.
He'd thought, at first, they were following a small tributary of the creek, but he realized as they walked that the water flowed the wrong way. He pushed the last branches carefully aside, mindful of the three tree-speaking Silvans among them, and stepped into a small clearing, backed up against a stone formation he could almost call a hill. In front of the stones, a spring bubbled up out of the ground, feeding the trickle of water they'd been following.
"Ah, a curious spot!" Sûlwen said quietly, grinning at her niece. "I do love these odd little glens scattered here and there in the forest. Each seems to have its own spirit. This one feels so still!"
"I think there is a cave up there," Meldisser said, pointing up at a dark spot on the side of the stones. "We should look at it, it might be useful."
"If it is useful to us, it is likely someone else will have found it useful as well," Sûlwen warned. "Be careful you do not poke your head in and get your nose bitten off!"
"What could get up there?" Meldisser scoffed. "A wolf could not climb that stone."
"A fisher cat could, or a wolverine," another Silvan said. "Trust me when I say you do not want to tangle with one of those."
"Even a squirrel or a bat would leap in your face and scratch you if it were scared enough," the third Silvan added.
Meldisser looked at Thranduil. "Lieutenant? Shall I climb up and look?"
Thranduil shook his head at her, one eyebrow raised. "Do not look to me to overrule our guides. I trust our woodland kin to know what they are talking about."
Meldisser sighed dramatically. "Are we not meant to be exploring our new lands?"
Sûlwen giggled. "Oh, do not sulk, my brother's daughter. Let us go and look then, but we should be careful to make a little noise on the way up. If we disturb something, hopefully we will hear it before we put our faces in its claws. If we may, Lieutenant?"
Thranduil nodded, smiling at her. "As I said, I trust your judgment, Sûlwen. Let us all look around while you climb, then. Springs can attract animals: this could be a good hunting spot, and many things might grow where there is good, clean water all year."
It was gratifying to see even the eldest of the Silvans Rauwen had sent with him nodding in approval. He was pleased that she'd sent him out without one of her captains or any bard in the first place. It seemed he was finally gaining her confidence.
Thranduil ambled about the clearing in a good mood, keeping one eye on his foragers and the other on their surroundings. He had spotted few useful plants or tracks during this venture, although he'd recognized many of them once they'd been pointed out to him. He consoled himself that that was not his duty at this moment. His role was to ensure the safety of the others, so they could use their considerable skills in peace. And that was a role he took very seriously indeed.
He eyed Meldisser and Sûlwen as they scaled the hill, sending a cascade of pebbles tumbling behind them, clattering as they went. But Sûlwen knew what she was doing. She was Rauwen's trusted let her be.
He caught their faint voices when they reached the ledge in front of the dark hole.
"See? That is some creature's bedding," Sûlwen whispered.
"It does not look fresh, though," Meldisser said. "It is a bigger cave than I might have guessed. I cannot see the back of it!"
"It is not fresh for now," Sûlwen answered. "If you Sindar want to use this for something you had better claim it quickly. Mark my words, something will come along and claim this place soon, with winter so close."
"What do you think was in here?" Melidisser asked.
Sûlwen peered inside. "Something small, I gather — or a group of small creatures. This is not a predator's nest, or there would be bones outside."
"How fascinating," Meldisser said. "Aunt, I am coming to love this forest, do you know?"
Sûlwen smiled and carefully bumped her shoulder against Meldisser's as they clung side-by-side on the rock face. "It loves you back. Can you hear the trees yet?"
"Not yet. I thought I might have, once or twice, after I sang to them, as you suggested. Perhaps they are testing me."
"That would be like them!"
Thranduil tore his eyes away to check his surroundings again. He could not stop himself from smiling. His spirit felt warm, infused with the last golden light of the afternoon that blinked through the branches and dry leaves.
He knew what Meldisser meant about the Greenwood. He had caught himself daydreaming more than once as they followed the creek. They had found a pool where he could bring friends in summer to swim in the hottest part of the day. The forest no longer seemed so sinister, although it was still more wild and mysterious than Doriath had ever been. It was a place he could imagine, more and more, truly calling 'home' someday.
He stubbed his toe on something and cursed himself in the safety of his own mind. Perhaps he was improving his skill in woodcraft, but he was far from the level of mastery he expected of himself.
Thranduil glared down at his old, stained boots to see what root he'd managed not to notice. There was something blackened and lumpy poking out from the dry leaves on the ground. He nudged it with his toe. He'd seen this somewhere… on the journey north, with Rauwen.
He looked up, searching for one of the Silvans to inspect his find, and realized Sûlwen and Meldisser had made it down already, jumping from rock to rock more quickly than they could climb.
He pointed to the ground, catching Sûlwen's eye. "Is that…?"
He didn't get to finish his question.
"Truffles!" Sûlwen squealed. "Oh, Lieutenant, what a find! They are so difficult to spot unless you have one of the pigs to help look!"
A cluster of birds took off in the branches above them, squawking in surprise.
"Shh!" Thranduil said urgently, looking around in worry.
The other Silvan foragers rushed over, buzzing in excitement as they brushed leaves away, revealing knobby lumps of the rare fungus Rauwen had once told him was a delicacy in Silvan cooking.
Thranduil's heart thudded in his chest while the others went about their business, his hand gripping his sword hilt. In the relative silence of the clearing, their chatter sounded too loud to him.
"Meldisser, smell this!" Sûlwen said, grinning.
Meldisser sniffed the truffle and gagged. "You enjoy that?" She asked, her face crumpled in disgust.
The Silvans laughed at her.
"Keep your voices down," he warned his charges. They nodded, still half distracted, but they lowered their voices as they continued sifting through the dry leaves.
He made himself calm his breathing as the minutes ticked by. It seemed as though nothing would come of it, when suddenly, Rauwen appeared in the clearing, stalking towards him.
"What was that noise?" She demanded. Her bow was strung, an arrow knocked, ready to shoot if she needed to.
Thranduil opened his mouth, but couldn't think of anything to say.
Sûlwen rushed to her friend and gripped Rauwen's elbow."It is not his fault, Tywysoges, it was me," Sûlwen said sheepishly. "He found truffles! I was too surprised, we all forgot ourselves."
"Sûlwen, you know better!," Rauwen said, exasperated. "How many times have I said—"
"I know, I know," Sûlwen said. She raised her hands in surrender.
Rauwen gave her a warning look. She turned to Thranduil, taking him aside to speak with him."That should not have happened. You are meant to be in charge and I did warn you to keep an eye on her."
"I — I thought you meant that in jest, I am sorry, my Lady. I have been in many groups with her now. Sûlwen is as skilled a woodsman as any of your clan," Thranduil stuttered. The unfairness of being corrected for this soured his good mood quickly.
"She is skilled, but she is excitable and she gets distracted. Please, Lieutenant, pay attention to these things. I need to be able to send parties out with you alone! We have little time left before the first snow, and once that begins it becomes much harder to travel in large groups untraced. My people cannot gather enough to feed both your clan and mine by ourselves!"
Thranduil felt heat rising in his face despite himself. "You are not responsible for feeding your people and mine," he said. "We have been hunting, fishing, and gathering right alongside you since we arrived — and more and more, on our own as well. We are not helpless. We crossed the continent long before we met you, you know. We are following your instructions for your clan's benefit as much as for ours — no, more!"
Rauwen scoffed. Thranduil saw the other elves pretending not to listen out of the corner of his eyes.
"Oh, please!" Rauwen said, her voice rising above the whisper she'd been speaking in. "You would not survive one winter in this forest without our help, Prince Thranduil! Do not forget how I found you."
Thranduil felt the blood drain from his face while a fire began burning in his chest. She had promised she would not tell anyone about that humiliation with the net trap!
Rauwen's eyes darted towards the others, then to his face as he stared at her in outrage.
"How I found all of you," she said, just loudly enough that they'd hear. "You were in need of aid, and I am trying to help you, but I need you to help me as well or we will all be feeling hungry by the time we see spring."
Before he could answer, a distant, eerie call split the air. The hair on the back of Thranduil's neck stood up. He drew his sword, eyes darting around the tree line.
Meldisser gasped. Sûlwen covered her niece's mouth, and none too gently. The two other Silvans in the group looked scared, their eyes wide and nostrils flaring.
"Come, all of you. Now," Rauwen told the group.
"You," she said to Thranduil. "I trust you can take up the rear and protect us should we need it? Those were wolves, and I do not mean normal wolves. They are fell things, from the dark lands! They bleed black, like orcs."
Thranduil nodded sharply and fell in line as he was told. He kept his eyes on Rauwen as she wove through the trees, leading his people and hers back to the chestnut grove, where she demanded the others grab their belongings immediately so they could go. No one asked questions, not even Erisdir, who Thranduil had come to expect comments from regularly.
Thranduil felt he could cut the tension that infused the group with his sword as Rauwen led them away from Amon Lanc and away from her territory, moving quickly and quietly like ghosts through stands fragrant pine, then a large patch of a stinking herb that would overpower their scent, until finally, she bid everyone climb high into the tree branches, where they were to wait out the night in utter silence.
(*)
Rauwen saw the Sindar off home the next day with careful instructions on how to ensure they didn't lead the wolves straight to Amon Lanc. The camaraderie the mixed group had been enjoying had given way to sober watchfulness.
"Lieutenant," Rauwen called Thranduil before he left.
"Tywysoges," he replied, his face impassive as he stood at attention before her. Rauwen almost winced.
"Please tell your father that I will come by soon to discuss the wolf pack on your lands. I would recommend finding their den and disposing of them before winter comes and they get hungry and bold," she said.
"Of course," Thranduil said. His demeanor was so cool. So professional. Not for the first time since she'd chided him, Rauwen regretted speaking in haste.
"We will gladly assist," she offered. "I expect you are more than capable of culling a den of those foul creatures on your own," she added, hoping to avoid causing more offense. "We learned a few things about them when we did so ourselves that may be of value to you, though."
"I am sure my father will be grateful to receive you. Your knowledge of this forest is always appreciated," Thranduil said. "I will tell him to expect you. Tywysoges."
He bowed, waiting for her to release him. Rauwen could think of no reason to keep him, so she returned the gesture and wished him well. She watched the Sindar leave, feeling queasy and restless.
She brought her people home by a long and winding route, careful not to create a path that could be followed between her village and Amon Lanc.
When she returned, she called an emergency meeting of her village elders to discuss what had happened. She did her best to focus, but the discussion was so similar to the many they'd been having since that summer that her mind wandered at times.
It was too late in the year to abandon the village and start over, but they would discuss it next spring, once they'd seen how the Sindar's presence affected the forest. In the meantime, she would go to Amon Lanc and counsel Oropher about the wolves.
"We ought not insist on leading that charge unless they request it," Erisdir had cautioned. "Whatever they may still be learning here, they are skilled fighters. Some confidence is warranted."
"Yes, I agree," Rauwen had said, hoping her irritation at him didn't show. As if she hadn't noticed how Thranduil was chafing under the supervision that she, as much as he, wished could be dispensed with. As if she hadn't seen Oropher and Emrys maneuvering during their meetings, testing each other as they learned where they could push, and where they should not.
By the time she returned to her roundhouse, Rauwen was tired and unhappy. Since the arrival of the Sindar, the rhythm of her life had gone from smooth and familiar to unpredictable.
We gain ground with them so slowly. She sighed. It was cold inside her home, but she walked past the small hearth, too weary to light the fire. Instead, she began to put her hunting gear away so she could slip under her furs and simply sleep.
If only it were easier. She saw her people and the Sindar mixing, becoming friends. Sûlwen enjoyed Meldisser's company very much, which always warmed Rauwen's heart.
The Sindar had taken to Tuilinher, some of them even beginning to learn the Silvan tongue from her in a bid of friendship towards their new neighbors. They listened when cautioned, although the result was that they would have little more than a plain wall and a few basic structures to stay in for this first winter.
Rauwen wished she could ease back and let things go as they would, but it was not so simple. The sound of those howls had sent a cold fear swimming through her blood. That was what could happen if the leaders of these two tribes let up their vigilance. And that, she could not allow on her watch. Not again.
Rauwen heard her door creak and swallowed. Was there some part of her that wished Sûlwen would stay away this night, opting to stay in the bed that was kept for her with the other unmarried ellith? Rauwen wanted to speak to her friend so badly, but the weight of this difficult year was not Sûlwen's to bear. So she should not.
"Tywysoges," Sûlwen said, setting her own gear down by the door.
Rauwen turned and nodded at her. Sûlwen gestured at the hearth.
"Go ahead," Rauwen said. "I did not have the will to do it myself, but the warmth would be welcome."
Sûlwen nodded and busied herself with the fire, humming as she went. Rauwen made her way over to the bench by the hearth, where she began oiling her sword and inspecting the state of her arrows.
Sûlwen sat down beside her and took the quiver. "Here, let me look those over," she said. She leaned against Rauwen's side, offering the warmth of her body as well as the flame.
Rauwen felt her muscles relax as they worked beside each other in comfortable silence.
Finally, Sûlwen put the arrows down and turned so they could face each other.
"Rauwen?" She asked. "May I speak freely, as your friend?"
Rauwen glanced at her, but couldn't hold her gaze. She nodded and swallowed.
"Are you alright?" Sûlwen asked. "You have not seemed yourself of late."
Rauwen shrugged. "It is a difficult time," she said simply.
"You worry about the Sindar so much," Sûlwen said. "All our lives you have carried the weight of leadership without losing your joy. But now? Enaid, you are so burdened… it has not improved your temper. Your people notice it."
Rauwen jerked her head up. "What?" she said. Her heart thudded in her chest. "They doubt me?"
"No," Sûlwen said. "But… The mood is tense sometimes. There has been so much change. When you become frustrated too easily, it does not help morale."
Rauwen stared at her friend, her thoughts scattering. "I —" she said. She felt queasy.
"You were too harsh with Lieutenant Thranduil," Sûlwen said, her eyes shifting downward. An unusual crease formed on her forehead. "That noise was my fault, not his."
Rauwen sighed. "I know," she said finally. "I knew it as soon as I spoke. I could not find a moment to catch him alone and say so."
"He has been trying to prove himself to you all these months. He works hard and learns quickly. In truth, I think you have no greater ally among the Sindar. And yet, you correct him more than you give him praise. He grows discouraged," Sûlwen said.
Rauwen raised her hands in defeat. "Alright, Sûlwen, alright. He asked me to help him learn, but I take your point."
"It is not like you, Rauwen," Sûlwen said softly. She shifted until they were closer, their thighs pressed against each other on the bench.
"I worry about you. I am not the only one."
"I will be fine. We just need to make it through this winter, and I hope things will get easier. Spring cannot come fast enough for me."
"You cannot wait until spring to tend to yourself, my dear friend. You cannot guard or guide us if your spirit grows sick."
"What would have me do?" Rauwen asked.
"Take a little time for yourself," Sûlwen suggested. "Go out into the woods tomorrow on your own. Climb up into the canopy and visit our green friends. Have you heard? They sing themselves into their winter sleep these days. Have you bid farewell to them yet, until they awake again in the spring? You always used to."
Rauwen looked wistfully into the fire. "I would like that," she admitted. "But I must go to Amon Lanc and speak with Oropher about the wolf pack."
Sûlwen took her friend's hand in her own. Rauwen felt the comforting warmth of Sûlwen's spirit curling close to hers.
Sûlwen shook her head. "That can wait a day, I swear it. Our people will be glad to see you tend to your heart. We love you, Rauwen. You know I love you, surely? It saddens us to see you unhappy."
Rauwen hadn't realized her cheeks were wet until Sûlwen reached over and brushed them dry.
"Please, Enaid," Sûlwen said. "Come, sleep. Tomorrow, go into the Greenwood for a day. Your duties will wait."
Rauwen held her friend's hand against her cheek.
"Alright," she conceded. "Just for one day. And then," she added, "I will find the good Lieutenant and give my apologies."
"Good," Sûlwen said. She kissed Rauwen on the forehead and squeezed hand. "That is good. Now, come to bed."
(*)
Notes:
I really thought this post was going to take another week but the muse smiled on me, finally! (And my beta reader rose to the occasion at the last minute, so it is here! Thank you, I appreciate you, friend. ) I will again try to post in two weeks, but I am still playing things by ear. It's been busy at work and, you know... the world is on fire still. My word count per month is down.
But! I am SO excited to be at this part of the story. This chapter kicks off some episodes I have been really looking forward to for a while! I would love to hear your thoughts on the direction so far. I know the time skip is a first, but it felt like the characters needed some time to marinate in the newness of it all before we visited them again.
Terms
I linked to a Tumblr post with a bit longer explanation, but I worked with a few fandom friends to come up with some Sindarin words for QPRs, partners, and other special friendships, since - in my LaCE-inspired universe - gray ace/demisexual elves are more likely to have a wide spectrum of friendships and platonic partnerships.
melgwend - is a QPR or other especially strong and committed friendship (love friendship)
mellest - is a term for a partner in an especially strong and committed friendship with a sibling feel to it (love sibling)
melvellon is a term for a partner in an especially strong and committed friendship, but there is no specific implication of 'sibling-ness' or really anything other than generic friendship (love friend)
These add some range to potential elven relationship terms that are canonical: gwend (friendship), mellon (friend), melleth (love), and melethron/melethril (lover masc/lover fem).
Tengwar is the script Elven languages are written in.