The Exile's Daughter

Hope and Old Woes

I laughed. "I can imagine well his attention. You should have seen him when they first found me. He and Legolas were like a couple of very gentlemanly guard dogs."

We laughed. "Ah, Legolas. He was terrified when I started waddling around in the last few weeks. Kept turning up with cups of water and lifting things for me."

I smiled irresistibly. "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

"He's a gentlemen." Almarien smiled. "Between him and Beriadan, I don't think I lifted anything heavier than a plate for months."

"He did well. Elves born in this age are unused to children and mothers-to-be."

"I suppose they are." Ancalimë mused. "It is strange to sit with a being so old, and yet you likely know little of birth and children."

I smiled slightly. "I am the child of the elves, in a sense. Their youngest kin. Besides, focusing on one adventure at a time is quite enough for me. I have many dark days ahead of me. Motherhood cannot be my joy until I know I'll be alive to raise a child."

"You are wise to think thus." Almarien chuckled. Her hand was on her stomach. I wondered if she could feel the life growing within. "I fear for this little one. The timing is less than perfect."

"Your children will be safe, the boy and the one yet to come." I said softly. The others frowned.

"Are you feeling alright, lovie?" Ancalimë asked concernedly. "You're white as a gull."

"Yes." I shook myself mentally. I had not meant to say that out loud. "Sorry, friends. I am not yet back to myself."

"It's alright" Firiel reassured. "You should go to your rest after dinner, both of you."

She looked sternly behind her and I turned to see Legolas standing there. Evidently, he had heard Ancalimë's concerned words. "Come on." Firiel said encouragingly. Shifting Imrathiel onto my hip, I rose, looping my other arm through Legolas'.

"Alright?"

"Fine." I smiled. He tried to bend so he could kiss me but winced at his still aching leg. I stretched up on tiptoes and brushed my lips against his cheek.

"You are in a good mood." He frowned. I winked subtly at Almarien.

"Is that so unusual?"

When we stepped outside, however, the smiles slid off our faces. A horse was galloping over the horizon, too far yet for us to identify the rider. Legolas and I exchanged a look.

He frowned at the others. "I thought none of the patrols had taken a horse this morning."

"They didn't", Ancalimë said. I settled Imrathiel against my hip more securely and we all watched the rider close in.

Winter was setting in, but he had no cloak. I had never seen him before, though I knew by instinct that he was a Dúnadan. He was younger than any adult I had met, and his hair fell flat against his forehead, plastered down by days of wet weather. Firiel and I exchanged a glance.

Aragorn clearly knew the young man. He stood from his place by the fire and strode forwards, helping him dismount stiffly from the snorting horse. Ancalimë, who had a gift with animals, took it to the others to feed and water it.

"Duilin, what brings you here? Your mother lives fifty leagues away." Aragorn said incredulously. Tar stood and helped him to lead the exhausted man to the warmth of the fire, and Legolas unclasped his cloak to wrap around him.

"I have a message." He said eventually with chattering teeth. I sat with Firiel, keeping Imrathiel steady on my lap and away from the cold ground. The young man paused; he seemed to have utterly forgot his words. "Lady Arwen?" He said in wonder. I could not help but laugh.