For a moment I could not understand why I was awake in the utter darkness that indicated the peace of deep night. However, after a second I noticed someone shaking my shoulders. I opened my bleary eyes to see the dim shape of Aragorn above me. I sighed.
"I need you."
"It's night time." I groaned. How this was supposed to help my healing process I could not imagine. I still had a few days left to rest, though I expected this was more through caution than necessity. Legolas' voice joined the conversation, heavy with sleep.
"Aragorn?"
"Legolas you must stay."
I sat up and tugged on my cloak, still half asleep. Legolas sat too. "What is this for? Ness is supposed to be resting."
"I know, and I'm sorry, but she may be the only person who can help us now." I frowned and picked up my bow and quiver, then strapped my swords to my belt. He wouldn't have woken me unless something had gone terribly wrong, I knew.
I could sense Legolas' further protests coming, but I crossed the room and knelt to kiss him. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Aragorn will take care of me."
Legolas squeezed my hand and sighed, knowing that Aragorn would not suffer to be argued with when he sounded so tense. "Be careful darling."
I allowed myself to indulge in another kiss. "I will. Go back to sleep."
Aragorn squeezed my shoulder as we walked out of the hut. Elladan and Elrohir were a few leagues away, on the brow of one of the hills which made up the steep sides of the valley. Our horses stood waiting for us. Mounting, we rode off at a gallop, gaining on them every second. They were running across the plain, urgency in the pounding of their feet.
After about ten minutes of riding, we had caught up, and dismounted speedily. There was another horse on the grass, blood pouring from its flank. My heart burned to see the poor creature suffer. Elladan bent down to it and I turned my head, biting my lip. Aragorn pulled me into his shoulder as the creature gave a last scream, which was mercifully cut short.
"Aragorn, what on earth has happened?" I gasped, taking my head off his shoulder and trying and failing to keep my voice steady as I saw Elrohir bend over another bundle on the frosty grass, this time ominously still and man shaped.
"Duilin", he answered shortly, stern eyes on the ground.
My heart plummeted. I closed my eyes. "He only had a few days until he could safely leave."
"I know, but he grew desperate. He was found by an orc pack, and slew a great number, but I have no idea how many escaped. I am sorry to drag you out of bed, but I need elvish eyes to track the rest, or as many as can be found, and Legolas is just too hurt."
"Yes he is", I agreed darkly, "but don't phrase it that way when you get back. We cannot think about the orcs yet, when there is some mother's son lying on the grass."
"I am not sure what we can do for him, if my brothers have found no solution." Aragorn whispered as we stepped closer.
"We can give him some comfort, at least."
My eyes stung when I saw the him sprawled so unnaturally on the ground. He had clearly fallen from his horse at first, judging by the bandaged shoulder that was now clearly dislocated, but his sword was near his other hand, coated with black blood. He had been hewn with many cruel strokes. His breath was laboured. There would be no saving this sad young man.
I bent to his side and took his hand. Frightened brown eyes met starry grey. "Sorry. I'm sorry."
I shushed him, running a hand through his damp hair. "Think not what might have been. There is no use in regret now."
"My mother" He gasped. Aragorn bent on his other side.
"I'll personally see to it that she is taken care of. Do you know Ostoher?"
"He is lieutenant in our area."
"I will get a message to him, and he can see she is safe. His wife organises aid for war widows."
The man nodded, gripping my hand when a wave of pain overcame him. He looked so young sprawled in the grass. But for the growing patch of blood about him, I might have said he was a child gazing with new eyes upon the star of Eärendil, which shone in the west in the pre-dawn darkness. I followed his gaze to it, looking upon the light of the only Silmaril I would ever see. It was best that we all basked in its beauty. No one person could hold that light. It shone brighter than anything ever would, since the two trees were destroyed long years before.
How many generations of men had come and gone since then? How much time spanned between the creation of my grandfather's most wonderous work and the birth of this youth, gasping beside me? How many generations would come and go after his life was snuffed out so cruelly, and so soon?
"It's not a star is it?" With guilt I turned back to the man. No matter how many had come, or would come, this one life was full of infinite unfulfilled promise. I owed him my attention for the little time he had left. The others had melted away, leaving me to sit with Duilin.
"It is a silmaril, one of the three jewels in which Fëanor captured the light of the two trees created in the deeps of time before your race existed. Eärendil wears it upon his brow and sails across the night sky, to display its glory to those who dwell in these dark lands east of the sea."
"Tell me of them. The jewels of the elves. Your eyes are so bright and your face so fair I wonder whether you are a silmaril, too."
I laughed sadly. "You are lucky Legolas isn't here. In a way, however, you're right." There was no harm in telling him now. After all, he would get no chance to spread the gossip. "I am the granddaughter of he who created the silmarils. His fire lives on in me."
"Legends walk upon the earth in front of my eyes. Did you know him?"
"He died two ages before I was born. Years uncounted lie between us."
Suddenly his breathing quickened. "It's coming."
He was struggling to speak now. I lent down to kiss his brow. "Have no fear. You go to somewhere fairer than these troubled lands."
Though his end was fast approaching, he looked younger by the second. I could see the small child in him, clamouring for a bedtime story to distract him from the shadows. Softly, I began to sing. It was an ancient tune, as every elvish song was, and it spoke of the splendour and beauty of Arda. The white shores, the rolling hills and the forests of evergreen in Valinor. Yavanna's gardens with their willow trees and lakes, Elbereth's stars which shone everlasting above us all, untouched by evil. As I sang, I stroked his hair, feeling more like a mother at that moment than the bold warrior I had to be. His eyes were glazing, but I didn't falter until the song was done.
Eventually there was no noise; not even the others who stood close by made a sound. His eyes, unseeing, were fixed on me. I closed them carefully. "We should bury him."
"I will go back to the others and summon help for that task. You three must go on, and quickly." Aragorn said. He sighed heavily and came forwards when I did not move, bending and kissing my crown. "Come on, Ness. He is past our help now."
He placed a hand under my elbow and, responding to the light pressure of his touch, I rose and looked my last upon the child of men. The sky had changed from black to grey. I took a shaky breath in, allowing Aragorn to pull me closer for a moment.
"We could manage." Elrohir suggested gently. "Go with Aragorn if you need to."
I pulled away from the man, wiping my face on my sleeve. "The orcs will not return to this place, for they know their work is done. I expect they have tried an eastern path. Their race see it as good luck, Legolas tells me."
Aragorn sighed, but nodded slightly, squeezing my shoulder. "A wise course to set. Go with your kin and stay together. It will take longer, but I wish to send no man nor elf out here alone now. Tis too dangerous."
***
Hours later, midday had made itself briefly known in the watery sky and sunk into dusk with indecent haste. We had our hoods pulled over our heads, but nevertheless we were soaked to the bone. I accepted the rain resignedly, thinking that at least the grass would be green awhile longer whatever ill came upon us next, but the twins looked almost shivery. Strong as they were, I often forgot they had mortal blood.
"Perhaps we should return", I suggested. After all, twenty orcs had lay dead around Duilin, and we had slain twenty more in the time daylight allotted to us. Though we could see in the dark easily enough, Aragorn had wanted us safe within the confines of the camp before night truly fell. Therefore the twins accepted my suggestion without complaint, and we made our way down the western slopes, trudging glumly through the mud.
We had made a full circle around the valley and killed as many enemies as could be found, but there was little chance that one, at the least, had not escaped our bright elvish steel. It was likely that they now knew the rough position of this camp, for years the only place of relative safety remaining for the rangers to keep their families.
There was no-one outside when we finally made it down, but my sharp ears picked up soft voices coming from the meeting hut. I thought it must be dinner. We made a short detour into our hut for a dry change of clothes then entered together, and the men stood to see me. A force of habit I supposed, to stand when a woman came into a room, passed down through endless generations. The elves had the same tradition, and I wondered whether these men knew they had learned it from my kindred in the First Age, before Beleriand was lost to the sea.
I nodded at them, forcing a smile, and all sat down again save Legolas, who walked over. Silently, he held out his arms. I sunk into them, immensely grateful I could hide my face from the Dúnedain for a few more seconds. I had been unable to stop myself from wondering, all day, which of the orcs had dealt the death blow to Duilin. It had made me wrathful in my own use of the blade. Perhaps too much. The thought scared me. My kin had been destroyed by wrath and revenge, and I did not intend to go the same way.
Legolas let go and led me over to sit, the sons of Elrond following on behind. He handed me some food – a much smaller ration than the previous few weeks, but still enough to satisfy.
"I am proud of you." His voice was the merest breath of wind. I knew of what he spoke.
"I could not save him."
"Nor could anyone. You gave him peace." He wrapped an arm around me, kissing my temple. I gave up on looking tough and lent on his shoulder, electing, as he did, to eat dinner one-handed.
A dour silence filled the hut during and after our meal. Elrohir finally gave up, rising in silence and banging the door bluntly behind him. Elladan wasn't far after. Aragorn went to stand but I held up a hand. I knew more than him what was ailing my fellow elves.
"They're your kin as much as mine, but I know the pain in their hearts more than any mortal can. Let me take care of them."
"I'll give you some time before I come to bed." Legolas answered. I kissed him on the cheek, then ruffled Aragorn's hair reassuringly, closing the hut door behind me and striding quickly across the damp muddy ground to the dry interior of our hut.
The twins were sat side by side, eyes closed. Elladan was resting his head against the wall, and Elrohir's white fists were clenched. I wriggled in between them and took their hands in mine. My face fell again into that grim, weary expression I had worn most of the day.
"Don't you ever get used to it?"
"You do." Elrohir muttered, turning to look at me, "and then someone of Duilin's age is slain, and all the barriers you build are destroyed."
"I know not how they bear it", Elladan intoned, "their lives are short enough without cutting them shorter."
"They must fight on", I sighed, "but there will be three of them who die for every one of ours."
"How very Fëanorion of you." Elladan muttered.
I frowned. "Say it not like that. I do not have their thirst for blood. All I want is for this to end with us as victors."
"We may see it one day. I only hope our mortal friends have the same privilege." Elrohir sighed, then looked around at me again, silently sizing me up. He looked over my head at Elladan.
"What?" I said. Elladan sighed.
"No one knows this, so say nothing of it." I nodded, and he continued. "Elrohir and I have made our choice on which race we truly belong to. We made it long ago, really."
I bit my lip. Would they choose mortality or the immortal life of our shared kindred?
He smiled slightly. "Have no worry for us, little cousin. We chose the firstborn."
"You did?" I asked, surprised. "You spend so much time with men I thought you were sure to choose them."
"Our choice is precisely because of the time we have spent among the Dúnedain. Great friends we have always found in these people, but one by one we watch them die, either by the sword or the slow decay of time. I am weary of their fate. I do not want it." Elladan closed his eyes and lent back against the wall again.
"Nor I" Elrohir said.
"When will you tell your father?" I shifted against the wall, drawing my knees to my chin and hugging them to my chest. "Surely he will be overjoyed by your decision."
"Indeed he will, but on principal we will say nothing until he has sailed from these lands."
"Because of Arwen" I muttered sadly.
"He puts so much pressure on her." Elrohir sighed. "Her choice grieves us all, but there is little we can do to change her mind. She's always been the stubborn one. Besides if Arwen must choose mortality, it comforts me that Aragorn is the man she has chosen it for. He would never harm her."
"You'd geld him if he did."
Elladan smiled grimly. "If that fear keeps him out of trouble, then so be it." He stretched. "As for us, we cannot leave our parents childless. They will know our choice if ever the longing tugs at our hearts, and we sail into those lands which are the true home of our folk."
"I am relieved." I said after a moment. "Not long ago I said to Legolas that we may one day be the only two left from this camp."
"That may still be true, if things go awry." Elladan said grimly.
"Perhaps, but even then, one day we may meet in the fair lands across the waves, where no darkness will touch our Fëar." (Q: souls.)
"Do you feel it?" Elrohir said quietly. I chuckled, shaking my head.
"If I did, I would have sailed months ago. What about you?"
"The only pull in my heart is our mother, who dwells now in Tirion, from which her kin hails. She was kidnapped by orcs and treated with unbelievable cruelty. We all learned a harsh lesson that day about evil."
"You saved her life."
"But the hurts of her mind could not be cured. My father has never recovered." Elladan said sadly. "He only stays for us."
"I can imagine." I muttered. "You are not here for the men. You are here for revenge."
"Always." Elrohir smiled bitterly. "But seeing that boy fade away, I was reminded of her hatred of violence. She would hate to think we were here, though I know she'd understand."
"Would she?" I asked quietly. My cousin's wore identical scowls, but I met them unblinkingly. "I have seen you fight the orcs. There is more than self-defence in your blows."
"You wouldn't understand" Elrohir said, a warning in his overly calm voice.
"Have you forgotten what I witnessed?" I asked, my own wrath rising dangerously. I glared up at both, holding their stern gazes with equal sharpness. "You alone of us all saw the scene as it was when I fled. Do you not think my own mother suffered as much? Don't you think I did?"
"There was nothing you could have done to help. We were searching for her desperately, but with all our skills we failed to prevent the hell she went through."
"I said not that your actions were unjustified, but I worry for you. What does revenge do but increase your thirst for blood?"
"If there are less men dying like Duilin died, is that not a good thing?" Elrohir spat. He had always been the fierier spirit of the two. I ran my hands through my hair and sighed, dropping the subject.
"The poor lad is at peace now, let us pray.". The image of his open, lifeless eyes had haunted me for hours, and I could not rid my mind of it. He had faded away right next to me, my warm hand squeezing his cold one. His hair had felt like feathers under my fingers.
Elladan and Elrohir both wrapped their arms around me as I bowed my head, their annoyance forgotten. "You did well to keep composed. He was not afraid. In his face there was only peace."
"At least I gave him that." I sniffed. The twins both shifted closer.
"What did you mean a moment ago, when you said you had suffered too?" Elladan asked hesitantly. I swallowed. In my anger I had let slip a phrase that I would rather keep to myself. Not even Legolas knew what I had so narrowly avoided that night, though the pressure of it was bearing down upon me more by the day. I knew I would have to tell him soon, but the longer I waited, the harder the task seemed.
"You know better than most that seeing-" I stopped, swallowing again.
"You don't have to explain. I shouldn't have asked. You can tell us anything though, you know." Elladan's voice was barely a whisper. I lent my head against the wall.
"I know." I said softly.
They lent their heads against mine and we closed our eyes. This was not the weariness of a long day. It was something more, something I had never felt in the innocence of my first home. The whirlwind in which an elf lived never ended; the unceasing, dizzying, unrelenting speed of life. It was exhausting.
A.M.