Daughter of Mirkwood [Lord of the Rings | Haldir]

Chapter 16

"Keep him safe, Estel. My brother means the world to me." Aragorn sketched a small bow, meeting her gaze with a serious one of his own.

"Of course, Milady. I will try to make sure he doesn't do anything too heroic." They both laughed quietly before Aeslin grew serious again.

"Don't you do anything too heroic either," her gaze fell to the Evenstar lying against his collarbone, her fingers reaching out to touch the jewel, "It would break her heart were you not to return." A sad look came over Aragorn's face, drawing a look of concern from the healer.

"She is to take the ship into the West, as she should. She will not be there when I return." Aeslin shook her head slowly in disagreement.

"Not if I know the sister of my heart. Arwen would not leave you like that. Not after giving you her promise."

"Can you be so sure?" There was an unconscious vulnerability begging for assurance within his words that pressed like a weight on Aeslin. She wasn't sure, but she lifted her chin anyway, staring Aragorn in the eyes with a confidence she wasn't sure she possessed.

"I am. She is willing to give up the life of our race for you. Do not abandon hope, or your love for her." With a reassuring smile, she reached up, tugging at a lock of his hair the way she had when he was a child. Aragorn laughed, though his eyes remained preoccupied. Reaching up, he did the same to her, mimicking the actions of his toddler self many years before. With a final soft word of farewell, she placed a kiss of parting on his cheek just as she had with her brother, and, like Legolas, Aragorn turned and climbed into the boat that waited for him.

After a few short words among the companions, the three Lorien boats carrying the Fellowship pushed off into the main flow of the river. Haldir came to stand behind Aeslin, watching them go with the same hopeful, yet reserved expression that his wife and every other elf watching possessed.

***

That evening, Aeslin sat in the now abandoned area the Fellowship had vacated. She was quiet and thoughtful, dwelling on the events of the day. Shortly after the departure of the eight companions, Haldir too had left, returning to the borders in the mid-afternoon. Before that Galadriel and Celeborn had withdrawn, the Lady in particular looking more distant than usual.

She was not so troubled that she was oblivious, though. Eventually she looked up to see Lostariel approaching her. Without a word, Aeslin shifted, making room for the older elf to sit beside her in the hollow the healer occupied. It was a long while before any of them spoke.

"It is said that the travelers carried with them the doom of us all; the One Ring." Lostariel looked to Aeslin, searching for confirmation with frightened eyes. Aeslin did not respond, staring still at the fountain she had been watching as she thought. "Is it true, Aeslin? You are close with the Lady, and it is said that your brother numbers among the travelers. What do you know?" Aeslin sighed, turning her gaze to her friend.

"I cannot say, Lostariel, truly. But know that our hope lies in the Fellowship that departed our shores. We must have faith that they will prevail in their quest." She smiled faintly, her eyes pleading Lostariel to understand. Though the older elf was not happy with the answer, she did not press, instead turning to survey the clearing before them. Aeslin sighed. After a few long, silent moments, Lostariel's soft voice broke the silence.

"It is difficult to live in such times. I long for the days when what happened beyond Lorien had little bearing on our lives herein." There was no mistaking the wistfulness in Lostariel's voice. Reaching out, Aeslin took her hand, squeezing it give what little comfort she could offer, slight as it was.