Our going seemed quicker that day, even though we had been travelling as fast as we could for weeks. I could see on Aragorn's face that his heart was lightened by the presence of our new companion. What must it be to have the fate of his people resting on his shoulders?
"We should reach the hidden valley before nightfall", Legolas commented cheerfully, as Aragorn turned west into a setting sun.
"The hidden valley" I mused. "Like Gondolin of old".
A grin crossed Aragorn's face. "It is certainly not that impressive. Children and mothers live there, so it must be as hidden as we can make it. Do you remember Mallor?"
I nodded, recalling the shy, stringy sixteen-year-old who had accompanied the few rangers fighting with the elves on the day when Elrond had found us. "Tar has three other children, who have grown up here since we built the homes four years ago. They are not yet old enough to accompany him on his travels".
"Good thing too, I have enough trouble with one!" A familiar voice called from somewhere on our left. The next moment, Aragorn had dismounted with a cry of joy to greet Tar. I recognised his great, hulking figure, his surprisingly soft voice. I followed as Legolas and Gandalf dismounted too, walking over to the towering figure of the ranger.
"Legolas!" The man clapped him on the shoulder, a gesture which Legolas returned warmly. "We need your sharp eyes on the watch again."
"I will be glad to help, as always." Legolas assured. Once he had greeted his old friends, Tar turned to me and bowed his head, looking up questioningly at Aragorn
"Nesseldë is skilled with bow and sword. She is fated to aid men in these dark times." Aragorn announced, moving to stand beside me and squeeze my shoulder.
"You are welcome, Lady Nesseldë. I had not hoped to see you again."
"On the contrary, I thought we might see each other soon enough", I smiled, "though I wish our meeting was under more peaceful circumstances." Tar went to reply but paused as a woman walked towards us. She had faded red hair spilling out from under her dark hood and a stained sword in her hand. Tar looked pointedly at her, but she merely shrugged.
"Stray orcs, only three of them." Tar nodded then held out a hand to her.
"This is Firiel, my wife. My dear, this is Nesseldë, daughter of Ionwé – or Maglor, as we now must know him."
"I regret that this is how we must meet, Lady Nesseldë. Your father was good to us, despite what he may have been in the ancient days. I am sorry for what you have endured." Firiel's voice was quiet and husky, but she smiled kindly, her dark eyes crinkling.
"So am I", I smiled heavily back. "But alas I find myself homeless. All I can do now is follow in my father's footsteps and aid the Dúnedain in any way I can."
"You will be welcome among us, my lady." Firiel said solemnly.
"There is no need to call me that", I insisted, abashed. "I am just Nesseldë."
"Well then, just Nesseldë, we live just over those hills." Firiel raised a playful eyebrow and led the way. We walked on together, leading the horses by their reigns.
"Da!"
The six of us turned around. Young Mallor, Tar's tall, lanky-limbed son, was stumping towards us. "Raina keeps calling me a string bean". He wrinkled his long nose.
"Yes, she might have mentioned that once or twice." Firiel nodded, grinning at the mortified look on Mallor's face.
"Show some courtesy, now". Tar reprimanded, gesturing to Aragorn, Legolas, Gandalf and myself.
Mallor turned beetroot red as he saw me but bowed his head politely to each of us. Gandalf beamed at the young man, who looked delighted to see the wizard among us. I pretended not to notice his embarrassment when I looked at him and smiled. "Who's Raina?" I asked.
"She is my sister", Mallor explained, "and she's 12". He said this as if he considered it an unsavoury fact. I laughed.
"Is that a bad thing?"
"Yes" Mallor sighed. "12 is a bad age for a girl".
"You were a horrible 12-year-old." Legolas interjected conversationally, an irritating smirk on his face. Mallor rolled his eyes at me as Firiel and Tar laughed. I grinned back.
"Annoying, isn't he?"
"I thought my younger siblings were bad." Mallor laughed.
Legolas pushed me playfully away and dodged as I aimed at punch at his arm. Mallor ran out of range before Legolas could tease him, but the elf only laughed. I smiled to see him relaxed. All the weeks we had travelled, he'd seemed most unlike his usual self.
We walked on for a few minutes, climbing a large hill. "Nesseldë!" Firiel stopped and called to me, holding out her arm as we neared the top. Legolas took Calanon's reigns and I joined her at the front. "You should have a good view the first time you see our home." I smiled at her as we crested the steep hill, but she only walked faster, stopping right at the top.
We were standing at the edge of a steep valley, completely hidden from sight to the wider world by the towering hills around it. To our right, a river shone clear and bright, heading down through lush green grass, a small copse of trees and a cluster of moss strewn boulders. The wind was high standing above the valley, but down below only a soft breeze tickled the treetops. There was no path or even any discernible tracks leading downwards. The valley looked completely untouched; a fair place unaffected by the influence of Illuvatar's children.
"It is beautiful", I whispered. Firiel smiled at me.
"Do you see any dwellings?" I shook my head and she nodded approvingly, leading me on down the steep sides of the valley. "This used to be the site of a great city when our people were powerful, but now it is usually filled only with women and children. It is rather a squeeze at the moment, I'm afraid, since the men are all home."
I couldn't imagine the spacious valley being anything close to crowded, but perhaps they had not enough places to house all of their people. "We must count our blessings that they are here." Aragorn said grimly, catching up with us and walking on my other side. He sighed across at Firiel "We are entering a difficult time, my friend."
"And we will meet it." Firiel said, raising her head proudly. Her cares could be seen in the lines on her forehead, the stern wrinkles around her mouth, but nonetheless she was fair. Her eyes were as green as the trees we were approaching, her cheekbones proud and high, and her red hair was softly waved.
At last, we were at the bottom, in the midst of the trees, which had a friendly, homely sort of feel to them. I brushed my hand against the bark. Elves were welcome in these woods; Legolas was looking around contentedly and I knew that he could sense their joy at our presence.
"Na vedui" (S: at last), I heard Aragorn sigh beside me. Gandalf smiled at him. On the other side of the woods stood a tiny settlement. Ten wooden cabins were scattered in a wide semicircle, a fire pit in the middle. One hut, larger than the others, sat on the other side of the fire. A few children played, adults chopped food or firewood, some darned cloaks and tunics.
"What if the enemy finds you?" The huts of the Dúnedain were far more permanent than I had expected from these lonely wanderers.
"We move", explained Aragorn, striding over to the hut nearest the trees. "See how the wood fits together? It can be assembled and pulled down quickly. If we have the time before an enemy closes in, we take down the huts and move the wood somewhere safe until we can find a safer place to rebuild them."
The people stopped in their tasks to watch our approach. Legolas guided me forwards out of the trees, and Aragorn was soon in the midst of almost the whole tiny village, crouching to greet the children, bowing to the woman and clapping the men heartily on the shoulder.
The Dúnedain looked so unguarded here among their families. I recalled how my father had always been greeted after one of his trips away from home, how we would hug him, and he would kiss each of us, glad to be back in our company once more. The memory hit me like a storm as Tar kissed his daughter's cheek with the same adoration.
I felt an arm wrap around my shoulders and saw Legolas looking down at me. He squeezed me silently into his side for a second and I closed my eyes, willing myself not to feel. "Come and meet everyone", he invited, stepping back and holding out a hand. I smiled wearily, put my hand in his and allowed him to guide me towards the centre of the tiny village.
As we walked into the circle of huts, an elderly woman came towards us, beaming. She had a kind, heart-shaped face, lines around her eyes, a mouth which curved upwards and grey hair that looked like a cloud. Holding on to her hand was a tiny child, with black hair down to just below her shoulders and her thumb stuck firmly in her mouth.
"Legolas!" The woman smiled indulgently, grabbing the wide-eyed elf and pulling his head down so she could kiss his cheek. "I told Imrathiel she would have her friend back soon."
Legolas bowed his head to the woman. "How are you, Ancalimë?"
"Older, greyer." Ancalimë waved an airy hand and Legolas bent down and smiled at the child.
"How are you, Imrathiel?" he said gently. The child did not answer him, but she smiled from behind her thumb. "Are you still better than me at catch?" She giggled and nodded. I smiled to see Legolas looking happier than he had done for weeks. Imrathiel noticed me then, and I smiled wider when she looked up at me. So astonished was she that her thumb dropped out of her mouth, leaving it hanging open below her wide blue eyes. I crouched down beside Legolas.
"Hello Imrathiel."
"Say hello, child." Ancalimë encouraged gently, kneeling next to the little girl.
"This is my friend, Nesseldë." Legolas explained, pronouncing my name slowly.
"Are you good at catch?" The child had a shy, quiet voice.
"I have quite forgotten." I said with an irresistible grin "You'll have to teach me how to play." She nodded and suddenly grinned from ear to ear.
"Are you a princess, like the stories? Legolas is a prince."
I laughed again. "I know he is. I am not a princess, little one, but when I am with my own people, I can dress like one whenever I want."
"Is it fun?" She giggled when I said yes, then skipped off towards another ranger I recognised from the night after the very first battle all those months ago, who picked her up and spun her around.
"She is my granddaughter", Ancalimë explained as we all stood again. "The first child born in this valley. I am all she has left, poor child. Still, I do my best."
"You do an excellent job", I smiled, pity tugging at my heart. "She is a delightful little girl."
"Thank you, lady." She looked very tired for a moment, then smiled in return, her eyes creasing. "You two must be hungry. Wait here." She pointed sternly at Legolas then bustled off to the fire, on which I could see bread cooking on several flat stones. I turned to Legolas.
"She seems rather fond of you".
Legolas chuckled. "She treats everybody like family, and I think she just adopted you."
Sure enough, Ancalimë was taking some hot flatbread from a stone and marching around the centre. She took some blueberries from a small hessian bag then walked over to another woman and took a bowl of what looked like creamy soup. "Come on, they've brought that elf maid with them, of all people, I haven't got all day."
I glanced up at Legolas to see him shaking with supressed laughter. We looked at each other and burst out into silent giggles, watching the elderly lady march determinedly through the village. "She's so cute", I whispered to him eventually once our mirth was controlled.
"Don't let her hear you say that!" he chortled. "She is a force of nature."
I was about to answer him when Ancalimë called us over with an impatient gesture. "Sit", she ordered, pointing to a place near the fire. We sat obediently and she passed us the food.
"Oh!" I felt something small and fast collide with my back. I looked around in mild surprise and saw a tiny boy fall on his bottom. I watched as his face screwed up unhappily.
"Oh dear", I turned to set him back on his feet. He looked astonished as he took in my appearance for the first time.
"Barahir!" His father came next, marching up and looking annoyed. He scooped the boy up into his arms. "Watch where you're going."
"It's alright", I assured, smiling at the boy. "How old is he?"
"Two" his father said, settling Barahir against his hip and sitting to talk. "Do you remember me?"
I blushed. "I know your face".
"It's alright", the man reassured solemnly, "you were not at all well when we last met. My name is Beriadan".
The toddler continued to stare, amazed, at me as I started on my soup. Looking at his father, he pointed. Beriadan chuckled. "That's Nesseldë, Barahir. Can you say Nesseldë?"
Barahir frowned, his small, dark eyebrows creasing. "Ness!", he exclaimed eventually, pointing at me again. I laughed.
"You can call me Ness!" I nodded. Barahir giggled.
"Close enough." Aragorn had joined us, with Tar and Firiel's daughter trailing behind. Apart from her jet black hair, she was the spitting image of her mother, with hollow, proud cheekbones, green eyes and a soft jaw. However, it struck me, then, that 12 seemed almost indecently young. Her small features still clung to the vestiges of childhood, though I knew she was already somewhere between girl and woman. She smiled shyly at me and I returned the gesture, making a mental note to ask Legolas whether he experienced the same feeling of advanced age when he looked at the mortals surrounding us.
"Ness", I looked to Aragorn again as he muttered thoughtfully. He looked up at the group of elves and men. "I like Ness."
"It is unconventional for an elleth, I suppose, but it suits you", Legolas intoned with a smile.
"Ness", I said thoughtfully, looking around at the others. It seemed a friendly name, less imposing than Nesseldë, perhaps, through the eyes of mortal men. "I quite like it too".
"Then you will be Ness to us", Beriadan smiled.
"It does suit you", Aragorn confirmed, looking into my face. "Have you eaten enough?" There was an amused glint in his eye as he watched me look across my demolished lunch.
"Better than I have for weeks. Thank you, Ancalimë."
"Haven't they been feeding you?" She glared incredulously at Aragorn and Legolas, then stood laboriously, taking our empty dishes and walking out of sight.
Soon after she left, the sons of Elrond arrived. Since we had first met , I was getting better at telling them apart, though it would be impossible if they wore their hair the same. Elladan's hair was always down, while Elrohir wore his pulled away from his face, half down and half gathered into a thick, dark braid. Both greeted everyone, before Elrohir turned to me.
"We have been sorting out a place for you to sleep", he said, holding out a hand. "Come and see". He pulled me to my feet, and I followed him and Elladan, Legolas trailing along behind. "We and Legolas have the hut closest to the woods just there. There are two rooms, so Legolas can share with us from now on and you can have the inside one."
"I don't wish to steal Legolas' bed" I muttered, my cheeks darkening slightly as we walked.
"You can have it", Legolas chuckled, "I will resist murdering these two just for you."
We entered the hut through the thin wooden door. The first room was small, with two bedrolls and packs squeezed in. There was just enough room for the twins to sleep comfortably, but I could not see how they could accommodate Legolas too. I studied each of their tall, broad-shouldered figures. "All of you cannot possibly sleep in here." I said flatly.
"We'll make it work." Elladan assured quietly. "Anyway, there is nowhere else for you to sleep. Though this is one of the largest settlements, there is barely room to swing a cat sometimes."
I pulled aside the thick sacking covering the doorframe of the two rooms. Elladan and Elrohir had found me a straw mattress. My blankets were already on top, in a cosy nest on the left side furthest from the window frame, which was also covered in hessian sacking to keep the room as warm as it could be. Legolas' bare mattress was on the right, his pack thrown carelessly on top of it. I swallowed, considering for a moment.
"I don't mind sharing with Legolas" I decided out loud, looking up at the three beside me.
"Are you sure you would be happy in the same room? We can share just fine." Legolas frowned, gesturing to the twins. I shrugged slightly.
"We have slept side by side for weeks anyway. What difference does it make now we're inside? As long as you don't mind." I added, biting my lip and fiddling with the clasp of my cloak.
"I suppose we would all sleep better", Legolas conceded, looking relieved. "It might be a struggle to fit three of us into that room" I couldn't help but be pleased at his acceptance of my solution.
"And we'll be in the next room", Elladan assured, almost to himself, "so it's all perfectly respectable."
"I know", I assured. His worrying was unnecessary, but his protectiveness was sweet, nonetheless. "I am safe with Legolas."
"I am Elrond's heir." Elladan said calmly. "It is chiefly my responsibility to take care of you."
Elrohir sluing an arm around my shoulders, leading me out of the door to our cabin. "Heir by two minutes." He grumbled. Elladan tugged his braid in a routine sort of way, and Elrohir continued after flicking his cheek. "But he's right, for once. You are our kin, after all, however distantly."
We went to sit with Aragorn, Beriadan, young Raina and little Barahir. They had been joined by Mithrandir, who hungrily devoured a large plate of food, and Halbarad, who had happened across us when we had left Imladris and discovered the orcs.
I had never seen Halbarad smile, but as he told the tale of some recent adventure to Raina, the beam on his face was like sunlight that comes out from behind a cloud. His face softened when she laughed. He paused and bowed his head to me. "It is good to see you again, lady Nesseldë. Have you met my niece?"
"I have indeed", I smiled. "You must be Firiel's brother. You have the same nose."
"Aye. When we met weeks ago it was she who came to mind at the sight of the orcs. I have no wife or children of my own, but her's I would give my life to defend ."
Raina bowed her head. "It scares me when you speak like that, uncle".
Halbarad pulled her into his side. "I'm not dying anytime soon, gentle child. Find your brothers. It seems unfair to deprive them of their favourite adventure stories."
"She is too gentle-hearted for this life." Aragorn muttered, watching her walk away to where her mother and younger brothers sat.
"She is young yet. She will toughen up in the years to come." Mithrandir assured quietly.
"I wish she did not have to, but you speak the truth. Firiel was the same when she was her age. In the long years since she has never lost her kind heart. Raina will not either." Halbarad watched the little family, his face sunk into the grim, calculating expression I was growing to know in many mortal faces.
Mithrandir was sharpening his sword now, his plate cleared. "That is a fine blade." I commented. "Master Bilbo tells me you found it in a troll hole."
"You know Bilbo, do you?" Mithrandir nodded, impressed. "He's a decent fellow, but he can never resist telling his adventures to the nearest polite ear. This sword is Glamdring, which once belonged to the King of Gondolin."
"Turgon?" Raina had returned, all three of her brothers trailing behind. They all sat around their uncle, but their eyes were fixed on Mithrandir. "Why was a king's sword in a troll hole?"
"Many thousands of years lie between the days when Turgon wielded Glamdring and now. Tis some trick of fate it was not utterly lost when the shape of the world was changed." Legolas said quietly, his eyes on the ancient blade.
"Tell us that story." The youngest boy said. His black hair, the texture of feathers, fell around his small face.
"Which one? The shaping of the world or the Fall of Gondolin?"
"All of it!" He enthused, wriggling back to sit in Halbarad's lap. Legolas smiled.
"If I told you all of it, you would be a very old man when the tale was done."
"Why not ask Ness about Bilbo's adventures? She knows them better than I." Aragorn suggested. His effort to include me was incredibly sweet, so I nodded.
"It begins, Bilbo always says, as any story about the Shire folk must. In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit..."
A.M.