"Well done, Ness. No woman would dispute that decision, I'll tell you that for nothing!"
In the interest of taking things slowly with Legolas, I had resolved to spend more time with the other women of the camp. I felt I had rather neglected their friendship, but I was determined to remedy that wrong. However, at that moment with all of them gazing, so amused, at my reddening face, I was rather regretting my efforts.
"What do I say to that? Thank you?"
Firiel laughed. "You could do a lot worse. I have never been one for blonds, but well..." She raised her eyes up to the window of the meeting hut, where I knew Legolas sat outside drawing up a guard timetable with the Sons of Elrond and Aragorn. He was much improved from a few days ago and could now manage to walk around on his own, though we both had strict instructions to stay within the borders of the camp.
"Well, some of us are lucky." I laughed along with the others to recover some dignity.
Ancalimë moved to speak, but at that moment Imrathiel pottered into the room, clutching a cloth doll in her small fist. I smiled when she deposited herself into my lap with a plonk. Though it had been some months since my arrival, her fascination with me had not waned.
"Legolas says hello." She said proudly.
"Are you a messenger now?" Firiel laughed. "How very grown up of you."
"He's cooking."
"Goodness." I laughed. "Pigs do fly!"
Ancalimë and Firiel laughed along with me. "I heard that!" His indignant voice floated through the window, but we only laughed louder. Legolas himself popped his head through the door then, mouthing something rude to me when Imrathiel was turned the other way. I giggled and he winked. "I am making your favourite."
"Rabbit stew?" I asked.
His eyes lit up to see me smile. "Tar returned with plenty, so we will all eat well for once."
He disappeared from the doorway again, waving to Imrathiel sweetly. She curled up silently in my lap, leaning on my shoulder and letting me stroke her dark hair. "Are you tired, vinime?" She nodded, and I shifted her more comfortably, letting my gaze fall from the child. (Q: little one)
The others grinned knowingly to see me starting at the spot where Legolas had just stood. "Sea and stars, you're sweet." Firiel said.
"How about Tar? He looks at you like a dewy-eyed eighteen-year old!"
"Distraction is useless." Almarien smiled. "You and Legolas are the talk of the camp, and will be for quite some time."
I sighed defeatedly. "Until?"
Almarien looked carefully at Imrathiel. She was fast asleep, and she lowered her voice to a whisper. "Until I start to show."
"What?" Almarien shushed Firiel's exclamation, and we all leaned towards her conspiratorially, I ensuring the toddler didn't wake. "Are you sure?" Firiel whispered.
Almarien's face split into a beaming smile. She nodded. I beamed, taking her hand in mine. "Congratulations! Does he know?"
"Beriadan?" She laughed slightly. "Of course he does, but the other men must not." Her eyes met each of ours, "You are healers, all of you, but you are women too. You won't mollycoddle me."
"Understood." I smiled. "They are honourable to a fault, but I expect the last thing you need is for every man in sight to wait on you."
"Indeed, and of course, Aragorn is here too. Childbearing might be the only aspect of a healer's knowledge he does not know."
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.
"I am afraid not, though she is my kin. Your people call me Ness. I am a friend to your chieftain. Tell us, what happened?"
"I bear a message from Gandalf, my lady." He said after a moment, seeming to pull himself together. "I don't rightly know what it's about, but he bid me hasten."
"What is it?" Aragorn asked urgently. "Where did you see him?"
Duilin looked alarmed at the desperation of his leader, but in answer he pulled out a crumpled piece of parchment, "He is using every skill he has to get to Rivendell, but he's a long way off, I'm afraid. I suppose this will explain more."
Aragorn took the note but did not open it. he looked up at Firiel and I. "Take him to the meeting hut and do what you can for him. He has done us a great service."
I handed the still sleeping Imrathiel gently to Legolas, who sat loyally by his simmering pot of stew, and got on one side of Duilin, while Firiel pulled his other arm over her shoulder. "We'll warm you up", I assured, helping him to sit while Firiel rushed out. He shivered, even with Legolas' thick cloak wrapped around him.
"What happened to your cloak?" I asked curiously. "You cannot have travelled for long without one in this weather."
"Ran into an orc pack", he replied bitterly. "They knocked me from my horse and ripped it off."
"Were you hurt?"
"Right shoulder." He grimaced as he tried to move it. "I'm sure it's nothing."
"I am not." I said firmly. Firiel walked back in, a tin mug in one hand and a plate in the other. Across her back was slung Aragorn's bag of healing supplies. I took it from her and knelt before him. Firiel eased his sodden tunic down his arm and we both winced. His shoulder was purple with bruising. "We will bathe and bandage it. You must keep it still while it heals."
"How can I?" Duilin said, aghast. "I must travel to my mother."
"Your mother would understand if she saw this." Firiel said firmly. "You cannot travel."
Duilin stayed in sulky silence as we bathed his shoulder. The precious supply of Athelas was running perilously low, so we only used what other herbs we had access to in the warm water.
Once this was done, Firiel handed me the bandages and left the tent with the empty plate, which Duilin had found impossible to leave while we worked. I started my task in silence, trying not to grimace in sympathy at the tightness of the bandages. "In a few days we will loosen them", I explained, "but this will help the swelling, so you have to endure it."
"I have felt worse." Duilin assured grudgingly, falling silent for a few minutes. "Is she yours, the girl-child?" He said eventually. I grinned slightly.
"Imrathiel is the granddaughter of Ancalimë, the elder of this camp."
"I apologise. Since you handed her to the blond elf, I thought you must be her parents." I couldn't help but blush and he grinned ashamedly. "You're not even wed, are you?"
"Far from it!" I laughed. "We are together, but there is no time for any of that."
"At least I was not too far off the mark", he laughed. "He seems kind, anyway."
"He is." I smiled. "Imrathiel is rather attached to him."
"Will you ever stop gossiping about me?" Legolas had come in, two hot drinks in his hands. He bent and handed one to Duilin as he tugged his tunic over his bandaged shoulder.
"He thought we were Imathiel's parents." I laughed, watching Legolas' cheeks darken.
"There have been no elf children for a long count of years." He said to Duilin. "Not on this side of the sea." Handing me the other mug, he left for a second and then came back with another blanket. "Strider is worried about you. I think he knows your mother."
"Since my father was slain, she lives alone. I need to go back to her."
"You cannot ride like this." I insisted, laying a hand on his uninjured shoulder. "I'm sorry."
"There is no one to defend her but me." Duilin argued. Legolas sighed.
"You are not the only one with these fears. There are defenceless children under our charge, and not enough men for them to hide behind. I know well your fear, but you cannot ride."
"Do you not have mothers?"
His comment was a punch in the stomach. I felt Legolas' fury boiling over next to me. I placed my hand in his, rubbing his thumb soothingly.
"No." I said shortly to the man in front of us. "But do not think we are ignorant to the threats you face. I am sorry, I truly am, but we cannot let you go. Would you stay a while here, or go home to her in a box? Who will take care of her if you throw your life away?"
"I'm sorry", he muttered after a moment. "I should have thought."
"You should." Legolas snarled under his breath. I shot him a look, then spoke.
"If you left now, the orcs might see you go, and you would reveal the location of this camp. We are having to come and go in much secrecy, a feat which an injured man could not achieve."
"Your mother would not have you put other mothers' children in danger." Legolas contributed.
"She's all alone. These children are not."
I was losing patience. My voice dropped to a hiss. "If all these men died in some great battle, what do you think would happen to the children? I am in these lands because I have been tasked with protecting and aiding men. I have the grim task of minimising loss of life, and that means I would die to protect this camp, and every Dúnedain settlement that exists, but I cannot risk the lives of everyone here, including your own life, and let you go."
Duilin seemed to crumple. "I know you can't." Legolas clapped him on the shoulder.
"Goodness knows if my mother still lived, I would do anything to get back to her, but you know we cannot let you leave."
"I do", he said earnestly. Firiel came back in, frowning when she saw him upset. She shot me a questioning look and I raised my eyebrows, sighing silently.
"I can manage." She said. "I think Strider wanted to see you."
"I leave him to tend the stew for two minutes." Legolas rolled his eyes, earning half a grin from Duilin, and pulled me to my feet with him. We strode out to the fire, where Aragorn and Elrond's sons were sat. Elladan had unearthed a crumpled piece of parchment from the bottom of his pack, and a thin piece of charcoal served him as a pencil. The guard timetable was drawn out neatly into days and shifts. I would be fit in a few weeks, but Legolas still had another month of rest in the borders of the camp.
When he took Aragorn's place by the fire, adding some more water to the thick stock of his stew, I dropped to the ground in between my cousins, laying my aching head on Elrohir's shoulder. Though the wound itself had been small, it was still healing. Noticing that my first guard duty was to be with both of them, I frowned. "Only for your first." Elladan reassured, seeing the look on my face. "That wound could be deeper than you think."
"I don't mind." I conceded, knowing I would not win the argument. "It does ache."
"Clearly." Elrohir said, raising an eyebrow at me, resting against his shoulder with drooping eyes. "You will take plenty of food and rest, or you won't be coming with us at all."
A few minutes later the stew was ready, and Elrohir stood to help Legolas distribute the bowls. Most had retreated from the cold into their huts, and once the task was done, we did the same, Legolas insisting on carrying my food as well as his own.
We sat down amongst Elladan and Elrohir's messily distributed possessions, Aragorn joining us. Firiel had recruited her children to care for Duilin, for which I was grateful. The grim, sulky young man grated on me, though I knew his worries were entirely justified. It troubled me that I felt little empathy, but I supposed the comment about Legolas and I's mothers was uncalled for. Mortals seemed to assume that elves had everything; however, family, friends and life could still be taken from us. We could still be sundered utterly from those we loved.
Legolas nudged my shoulder with his. "Eat, Noldo, or I'll have to spoon feed you."
I smiled, shaking off the dark thoughts, and took a bite. The stew was warming, and the meat was tender. I laughed at Legolas beside me as he watched warily. "What? It tastes like a dream!"
"Really?" He said, allowing himself a grin. I nodded, stretching up to kiss him on the cheek.
"You should cook more." Aragorn contributed cheerfully, tucking in with almost indecent speed.
"I should have laced it with mud." Legolas muttered under his breath. I nudged him in the ribs, and he pushed me playfully with a grin. "Have you opened Mithrandir's letter?"
Aragorn's face darkened. He swallowed a bite. "He is barely ten leagues away from here, and you know how fast he can travel at need."
We all frowned to hear the grim tidings. "If he cannot break through, who can?" Legolas asked.
"Mithrandir will reach Imladris. Adar will come when he can. All we can do is hold on." Elladan said simply. (S: father)
"They are closing in", I muttered darkly, "I can feel it in my heart."
"When you and I are healed, we will push back against them." Legolas said gently. I nestled into his shoulder, then turned my attentions back to my dinner.
"Elladan is right. We have no choice but to hold the line." Aragorn said. "I know I can count on each of you to help me manage the men."
"Naturally." Elrohir grinned. "Though you may have to prise Legolas and Ness apart to do so."
I threw his own flask at him, making Legolas laugh lightly. I smiled across at him, engulfed by the rush of warmth in my chest.
A.M.