Nerwen the Green and the Search for the Entwives #wattys2019

Chapter LVII: Clarity

Chapter LVII: Clarity

"No need for it," Aryon claimed, "but if you want to, I'm ready."

Actually, he had been ready for a long time, since the beginning. He didn't care at all who she was, or what: Elf or Human, child of a slave or of a queen. All that mattered to him, was the undoubtable fact that she was his partner for life.

"I wish I could have told you since the beginning, but as you know, I was forbidden to do so," Nerwen began and he nodded, as he was aware of this, "As it was forbidden to the other Istari, too, because we all come from the same place. However, please don't divulge to anybody what I'm going to tell you."

"Of course; you have my word," he reassured her.

Nerwen pondered about the way she should tell him the truth; her eyes locked with Túdhin's, who was calmly lying on the floor, watching her. The wolf perceived his two-legged friend's tension; he didn't know the reason but, guessing she needed some encouragement, he brushed his head against her leg.

What is it, Daughter of the Sunset? he asked her. The Aini started a little in hearing this title: she had almost forgotten that Túdhin, unlike Aryon, knew about her origin.

I'm going to tell Aryon about the place I come from, she revealed, but I don't know how to do it...

Keep it simple, the wolf suggested, with great common sense. Nerwen smiled slightly: he was right, the simple way is always the best. Grateful for his support, she stroke his side; and eventually, she found the words. She turned again to her husband:

"The Istari are the Valar's emissaries," she reminded him and the prince nodded again, as this was well-known to him, "We have been personally selected by our Masters: in my case, Yavanna; in Pallando's case, Oromë; and so on. And when I say personally, I mean it literally," she paused to emphasise what would follow, "We all come from Valinor..."

She stopped because a triumphant smile had appeared on Aryon's face:

"I knew it!"

Nerwen's eyes widened in surprise:

"You... knew it?"

Realising his statement had been excessive, he adjusted it:

"No, not exactly... let's say I had guessed it. It explained many things: your longevity, your reticence in telling from where you came, your agility, your capability to communicate directly with a Valië... and especially, the fact I see you at the same time on the visible and on the invisible level."

"Oh," she stammered, momentarily speechless: she had underestimated her husband's perspicacity and felt ashamed; then she considered what he had precisely said, "My... agility?"

"Yes: I saw you, even it only fleetingly, the night the Easterlings attacked and took us prisoners," Aryon explained, "and Meledhiel's words came back to me, when she spoke about your speed of movement, words I didn't heed at the time. However, the two things together made me think you could be an Elf. Now that you confirmed it, I am greatly relieved to learn you have the life of the Firstborn."

She was about to nod in confirmation, but then she hesitated, realising he had interpreted the news in the most obvious way, not knowing it was wrong; she shook her head.

"I'm no Elf," she said softly. The Avar prince furrowed his brow, perplexed.

"You're no Elf? So, what..."

Words stuck in his throat, while the only possible alternative was taking shape in his mind; he straightened his back in wonder.

"You... are a Maia. Like my father."