Story Downloaded from Open Scrolls Archive (https://www.openscrolls.net)

Title: Maeve of Sylvania (#608)
Author: Lossefalme
Chapters: 7

Archive: Tolkien
Category: Lord of the Rings
Description: Aragorn recalls someone from his past. 
This follows book canon as much as possible, however, the beginning was inspired by a scene from the film FotR.
Obviously I do not own any of Tolkien's characters, etc, etc...if I did, I'd actually have some $. Since I do not, please don't sue me :-) Maeve is entirely my own creation, as are some other minor characters.
Published: 08 Feb 2004
Updated: 08 Feb 2004
Warnings: 
Type: General
Characters: OFC; Aragorn; Legolas


Chapter 1 - Chapter 1

This begins at Rivendell as Frodo is recovering from the Nazgul wound, and prior to the Council.

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With a start, Aragorn awoke. He had nodded off again while studying in Elrond's library. The weeks of being on the road in this dangerous time were beginning to take their toll. It would be best to make use of the days in Rivendell to rest and prepare for whatever adventure awaited. His weariness and concern had already caused him to be off his guard when Arwen had come upon him gathering kingsfoil. Thank the Valar that it had been her and not an enemy, or even merely someone who would have made a fool of him.

"What's this? A Ranger caught off his guard?" 

The words echoed in his mind, mocking him. He had come close to failing in his duty to protect the hobbits and safeguard the One Ring. How could he trust himself to do what was needed if he could not even .......it was not entirely his fault...the foolish hobbits had lighted the fire which had drawn the Ringwraiths....Blast that Peregrin Took! Even so, he should have been prepared. It was as he feared...the weakness in his blood as Isildur's heir would doom them all! He was not fit to rule, despite what Arwen believed. 

Arwen...beautiful Arwen....she is all that is good and strong, a true leader. He would not allow her to throw her life away for him! He was not worthy of her or her love...Elrond was right to frown upon their relationship; he saw that Aragorn could only bring her pain and grief.

The sound of running footsteps broke into Aragorn's thoughts. He jumped to his feet with his sword at the ready. There was a crash and a jumble of curly heads and hairy feet came into view. In their excitement, Merry and Pippin had tripped down the set of stairs at the entrance to the library. As they untangled themselves they explained their haste.

"Strider, you've got to come! There's food such as I've never seen in my life! Cream and jellies and jams and sweets and cakes and berries and biscuits ....and....and...carrots ....mushrooms.... PINTS!!" The hobbits gasped with delight.

"Aye, my friends, Rivendell does it's best to make guests feel welcome," Aragorn replied as he helped steady the hobbits. It would be good to relax and get his mind off things even if just for one evening. "Let me lead the way, and mind your step!"

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Much later that night, Aragorn stumbled into his room and crashed onto the bed. Drowsily removing his boots and other uncomfortable clothing, he stretched out on the cool clean linen. Ensuring that his sword was still at hand, he settled in for what would be his best night's sleep in ages. 
Or so he thought. As he drifted into that twilight between sleep and wakefulness, again those words taunted him.... 'a Ranger...off guard...' Yet this time it was not the voice of Arwen, but that of one far in Aragorn's past....


Chapter 2 - Chapter 2

He was traveling to Mirkwood to visit his kin...having been raised in Rivendell since the age of two and Elrond being the only father he really remembered, it was easy to think of the elves as brothers. There was tension between Elrond and the young man since his love for Arwen had been discovered. Apparently he was not worthy of the Lady Undomiel, even though he had been raised by Elrond and his sons. Even though they shared bloodlines from ancient days. In truth, Aragorn's ancestor had been Elrond's brother. At the end of the First Age the two Half-elven had been given a choice to belong to one race. Elrond had become Elven while Elros had chosen his human side and founded the Numenorian line. 

But it seemed that was not good enough for he was still merely mortal. And while in his heart Aragorn felt that he was not worthy of Arwen, it still chafed his pride to hear it from another. Particularly since Elrond had not limited himself to that, but also declared him not fit for any woman. 'You shall neither have wife, nor bind any woman to you in troth, until your time comes and you are found worthy of it.'  And so he was off to find his friend Legolas and to find ways of proving his worth.

Lost in his thoughts of anger and hurt, the young man did not realize he was no longer alone until it was too late. Suddenly he felt the cold sting of a steel blade against his throat. 

"How is it that a Ranger is so easily caught off his guard?" a voice murmured in his ear. Off his guard he may have been, but Aragorn's reflexes were lightning quick. From his kneeling position, he reached around behind him and grabbed his attacker's ankle. With a swift, hard jerk, he threw the stranger to the ground and whipped around to knock the sword away. Pinning down his foe, he looked around to see if there were others. Satisfied there were none, he turned his attention to the one he straddled, and came to the realization that he had been attacked by an elf woman!

"Who are you, what are you doing here, and why did you attack me?" Aragorn demanded.

The elf woman struggled to free her wrists from his grasp and tossed her head as she retorted, "I might ask the same of you. Do you not know that Mirkwood is the realm of elves?!" Her brilliant green eyes flashed. "I had heard humans were a brutish lot, but I thought that even they would respect women enough not to crush them into the earth!"

Aragorn stood, helping the woman up, but did not relinquish his hold on her. "I have a great respect for women, but only when they are not attacking me. Not that it's any of your concern, but I am going to visit my dear friend, the Prince of Mirkwood. Now why don't you explain yourself and I'll consider releasing you."

The elf turned her head and he could feel the anger draining out of her. " I am Maeve, an elf from Sylvania, near the far northeastern corner of the Great Forest. I am going to seek help from the King of Mirkwood. We may be isolated from the other elven kingdoms, but that does not mean we are unaware of them. I attacked you only in jest and was surprised that one traveling alone would not be more alert of his surroundings."

"I hope now you've learned your lesson that it is unwise to play tricks on a Ranger and that we may indeed be more aware than we appear." 

Aragorn was not about to admit that she was right. That was something he would still have to master, not allowing emotion to distract him. He released her but could not take his eyes off her. Never had he seen an elf woman dressed in this fashion. She wore leather leggings, boots, and gauntlets with a green tunic. No wonder he had not realized her gender at first. And her hair was an unusual coppery color that reminded him of flame. He knew of only one more beautiful: the beloved and forbidden Arwen.

"What reason do you give me to trust that you will not attack me again, maybe try to slit my throat as I sleep?"

"If you are such a friend of the elves, you should know the word of an elf is true and need not be questioned!" Maeve nearly trembled with anger, anger caused not only by her bruised pride but also an effort to quell the attraction she felt toward the darkly handsome man.

" Fair enough." Aragorn bowed his head as he released Maeve. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to find dinner before dark." As he grinned, his face lit up and Maeve felt her heart skip a beat.

"Wait, I have some game I am willing to share...a peace offering if you will. I grow weary of eating alone."

Aragorn had wanted to be alone with his thoughts, but perhaps it would be better to try to put them aside. No sense in brooding over the situation until he could do something to change it. Besides, this Maeve intrigued him. 
 
As they made camp and prepared dinner, the two made small talk about things such as herb-lore and poetry and found they had quite a bit in common. They got along well and decided to travel together to Mirkwood. The next few days passed idyllically and they grew increasingly attracted to one another, though they did not make it known.

Aragorn had gone in search of rabbit or some other small game, while Maeve was gathering herbs and berries to flavor the meat. As she worked, her thoughts turned toward the man she traveled with. She could no longer deny to herself that she had feelings for him. She wondered if this might be simply because he was so different from anyone she had ever known. Sylvania was quite isolated, rarely having contact with other Elven kingdoms, let alone those of other races. 

Maeve laughed to herself; whoever would have thought she'd feel this way about a Man? Her people were haughty, being superior to all others....and yet there was something special about the Ranger. Could he be the one she'd been waiting for? She'd never really cared for any of the men in her village. While she'd had many admirers, they were mostly playboys better suited to the barmaids and other women that were more free with their favors. Never anyone that could be considered a serious suitor. Not that her family would ever accept a human...her father was probably trying to arrange a marriage for her...being well-born meant that she would have to make a 'suitable' match. Aragorn, she was sure, would not be considered as such....and yet she had never felt so comfortable around any man, save for her brother.

Returning to camp, she tossed her head to clear her mind. Silly little fool! Here she was entertaining thoughts of marriage when the Ranger probably was just tolerating her company and would be glad to be rid of her once they reached the court of King Thranduil.

Little did Maeve know, at that very moment Aragorn could not stop thoughts of her which kept intruding upon him. Deep in his heart he loved Arwen, and yet it seemed that she would not be his...did he not deserve some happiness? What if it had not just been Elrond that disapproved of his love for Arwen? Perhaps the Lady herself had spoken to her father, not wanting to openly reject him...Just when he had felt his loneliest the flame-haired Maeve had appeared, keeping him from despair... could it be a sign of what was to be? 

Darkness would be falling soon and he had hunted enough for a good meal for the two of them. As he spied the fire that Maeve was tending, he pushed his thoughts aside. More than likely she would consider him unworthy as well; after all, she was an elf!


Chapter 3 - Chapter 3

It was later when they were sitting around the fire and gazing at the stars, that Aragorn saw a look of great sadness steal across Maeve's face.    

"What is it? Are you ill?" he asked with concern.

Sighing, Maeve explained that it had been her brother who had taught her how to read the night sky, her brother whom she now searched for. 

"My family serves the Royal family of Sylvania. Growing up, I was the companion of the eldest princess who died of a strange illness long before her prime. My brother and I were very close and he taught me many skills. He had become a knight in the king's guard. One night, the castle was attacked by an enemy unfamiliar to us. Alaric was taken prisoner along with others from our village. I am searching for him now and hope to receive aid from Mirkwood. I must find him!"

Hiding her face in her hands, Maeve burst into tears. Aragorn came over to her and drew her into his arms. She apologized, "I'm sorry...it's just that I miss him so much...it's as if a part of my heart is gone."  He stroked her hair and murmured comforting words as she sobbed. She quieted, lifting her eyes to his. He gently wiped her tear-streaked face, then softly kissed her brow. She melted against him as he continued kissing her, gently at first, then with growing passion.

She had never felt so safe and secure as his arms tightened their embrace. Desire stirred within her. His hands ran over her and she caught a glimpse of the ring he wore. Maeve gasped as she realized why it seemed familiar. It was the ring of Barahir...the man who held her was Isildur's Heir! A lover of history and lore, Maeve knew that meant a great destiny awaited him, and also that his true love and happiness would come from the House of Elrond, whether he knew it or not. 

Aragorn's caresses intensified as he probed her soft mouth with his tongue. Maeve longed to surrender to the desire building within her. Yet this would not be a harmless night of passion. It could only result in torment for them both! She would not be the one to cause him guilt! 

She wrenched herself out of his embrace. "I cannot do this! You are Isildur's Heir, and I will not interfere with your destiny!" Aragorn could only stare with astonishment as Maeve tried to explain. "Your true happiness is in Imladris and I do not wish to be the one to taint that happiness with guilt." Maeve gathered her belongings and went a short distance away to spend the rest of the night alone.

Tense with frustration, Aragorn went to swim in a nearby stream. As he calmed, he realized that Maeve spoke the truth. He was destined to be with Arwen and the memory of betraying that love would have plagued him with guilt. Yet he was still amazed that Maeve had such knowledge of something he himself had only learned a short time ago. Who else knew more about his past than he did? Aragorn sighed as he dried off. There was no sense in pondering all this tonight. Might as well try to sleep. They would soon be at the court of Mirkwood and perhaps Legolas would be able to provide some insight. He hoped Maeve was all right, but thought it best to leave her be...he'd already tried to comfort her once this night and look what had come of that!

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It was plain the next morning that neither of the travelers had slept well. They ate and packed in silence, each avoiding the other's gaze. Finally Aragorn turned to the elf woman. "Maeve, I am truly sorry if I have offended you in any way. I would not have there be enmity between us."
 
"Dear Aragorn, I bear you no ill will. Indeed, it is I who should seek your forgiveness."

"I forgive you, on one condition...Next time, let me do the cooking!" A mischievous grin spread across his face. Maeve chuckled and they knew all was right between them.

The rest of the day was fair and they took in the forest around them. As Mirkwood appeared, bathed in the golden glow of late afternoon, they became aware of being watched. Why is it that elves are so suspicious? Aragorn wondered. 

"It is I, Estel, foster son of Elrond, and friend of Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood. This is Maeve of Sylvania who seeks aid from her kindred."

A voice from the trees replied. "You speak falsely! You wear the ring of Barahir, thus you cannot be other than Aragorn, son of Arathorn...and yet you are a friend indeed!" Legolas appeared with a smile and a welcoming hug for Aragorn. He turned to Maeve and greeted her. "It has been many years since we have heard from Sylvania. You are most welcome and we will provide such assistance as we are able. You both look travel-weary, please feel free to refresh yourselves and then join my father and I for dinner."


Chapter 4 - Chapter 4

After learning that Aragorn had been told of his true name and lineage, King Thranduil wished for dinner to be a private affair in order to speak freely. Thus the large hall, normally filled with many elves, seemed empty. Aragon chatted with Legolas and the king as they waited for Maeve, who had been taken to the nearby home of a noble family in order to properly prepare herself. 

Maeve had wanted to wear the simple garments she was used to, but Lady Ithilwen insisted she dress as appropriate to her station as a noble and had generously given her a dress to wear. It reminded her of happy times in Sylvania when she had attended many functions at the castle. The dress was of a moss green fabric which was gathered at the shoulders and sides, draping in soft folds. Subtly embroidered leaves swirled along the edges. Her hair had been woven into an intricate braid bedecked with gold leaves, which gave way to a cascade of copper tresses that rippled down her back. A gold necklace and armband both of delicate intertwining leaves completed her attire.

The elf woman entered the hall, the soft echo of her footsteps attracting the attention of the men. They stood to greet her. Aragorn was stunned; he could barely believe this was the same woman he had been traveling with...she was radiant and seemed to float across the floor. Legolas also looked upon her with admiration. King Thranduil chuckled at the reaction of the younger men. They were seated and servants brought in delicious food and poured some of the king's best wine.

 As they dined, news of Rivendell and Mirkwood was exchanged, then talk turned to Sylvania. Maeve did her best to bring the rulers of Mirkwood up-to-date; it had indeed been many years since there was contact between the two kingdoms. Her tale ended with the attack and her current search for her brother. The king regretted that he was unable to spare anyone to specifically aid her in her search, but pledged to keep watch out for Alaric on all his people's journeys. He also invited her to consider Mirkwood to be a second home and would grant her such supplies as she needed. 

Maeve graciously accepted the assistance offered. It was not what she had hoped for, but would still be beneficial. She began to feel flushed and warm. The wine was stronger than what she was used to...or was it because she felt Aragorn's eyes upon her? Searching for a way to turn attention from herself, Maeve fell silent. Sensing her discomfort, Legolas encouraged Aragorn to relate how Elrond had given him the ring of Barahir. The young Ranger complied, confiding his meeting with Arwen and his admonishment by Elrond as well. 

While Aragorn was finishing his account, Maeve struggled to keep her eyes open. She had definitely had too much wine. King Thranduil noticed her situation and yawned loudly. "Pardon me, but this elf is not as young as he used to be. I think we should continue this tomorrow. Lady Maeve, allow me to show you your rooms so you may retire when you wish. These two may talk until the sun rises!" 

"Many thanks, King Thranduil. I believe I shall retire now, I have been traveling for quite some time and am weary." Maeve accepted the arm offered by the king and said her goodnights. Legolas promised to show her around the next day so she that would be more familiar with the castle and able to come and go as needed.

When the king and Maeve reached her rooms, they found that Lady Ithilwen had provided not only several dresses and the various required underpinnings and accessories, but a lady-in-waiting to assist her. It was the same woman, Ára, who had braided her hair earlier that evening. King Thranduil took his leave of the women and Maeve thanked him again for his kindness. Ára swiftly unbound Maeve's hair from the elaborate braids and helped her undress. Normally Maeve would have refused such assistance, it had been quite a few years since she had not dressed herself. However, this evening she was too tired to protest and was in fact grateful as the wine had relaxed her to the point that she would have simply collapsed onto the bed, jewelry and all.

As she worked, Ára explained that Lady Ithilwen had a cousin who countless years ago had gone to live in Sylvania to escape an arranged marriage. She therefore felt a bond of kinship with Maeve and wanted her to feel comfortable in Mirkwood. It was all Maeve to do to murmur thanks as Ára helped her into the bed and then retired to an adjoining room.

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Brilliant sunlight streamed into the room. Maeve rubbed her eyes sleepily as she sat up in bed. She grimaced at the ache in her head and wished she had some water to cool her parched throat. As if by magic, Ára approached with a pitcher of water. She laughed at Maeve's surprise. "It is not unusual for guests to partake of too much of the king's wine which is much stronger than most are used to. It will soon be time for the midday meal if you feel up to joining us. Or I can bring you something here."

Had she really slept so late?! She had not wanted to lose any more time in searching for her brother, but now there would not be enough time to make preparations to leave the next morning. The additional day of rest would probably do her good, she would just be sure to avoid the king's wine tonight.

She allowed Ára to dress her in a simple flowing gown of grey and arrange her hair into a loose braid down her back. The kind woman showed her the way to the hall where food would soon be served. There she joined Aragorn and Legolas, who plainly had also recently risen. Apparently they had indeed stayed up talking until the sun dawned. 

After they had eaten their fill, Legolas kept his word and showed her around the castle and surrounding areas. The trio stopped to bask in the sunlight in one of the beautiful gardens. As she sat gazing at the delicate flowers, Maeve became lost in thought. She felt guilty for enjoying herself while her brother might be facing unspeakable tortures or even...no! She wouldn't think that...Alaric had to be alive! Immediately, she began to make a list of what needed to be done, what supplies needed to be gathered...would King Thranduil lend her a good horse? So intent on her plans was she that Maeve did not notice that Legolas was speaking to her, even after he had grasped her hand.

Finally, the elf prince kissed her full on the lips. A shocked Maeve came to her senses. "Dear Lady Maeve, do not take offense...it seemed the only way of getting your attention, as I would never hit a lady, unlike my friend Aragorn," Legolas explained with a mischievous gleam in his eye. "What is it that concerns you so? Are you anxious to be seeking your brother? If you wish I can order supplies to be ready by morning's light." 

"I know not what to say...to...to express my gratitude at your kindness. That would be most pleasing to me. I wonder if I could presume upon your generosity to ask use of a good horse?"

"Come, let us go to the pastures so you may choose a suitable mount. You may have your pick of all but a few."

And so they went to the stables where Maeve selected a spirited blood-bay stallion with a coat of coppery red complemented by his black markings. Annûn Sûl she named him, for his color reminded her of the sunset and he ran like the wind. 

This night, the grand hall would be full as usual, and so Maeve allowed Ára to once again dress her elaborately, this time in shades of blue. She was seated next to Legolas who was at the king's right, while Aragorn was on the left side of the ruler. King Thranduil signaled a servant who returned with a goblet for Maeve. Thranduil smiled kindly at her, "This herbed wine was a favorite of my wife. I thought you might find it to your liking, as it is not as strong as that which you drank last night. Indeed, none should have need of strong drink tonight with such intoxicating beauty in our presence." 

Maeve blushed at his compliment and demurely nodded her thanks. The wine was quite good, and enhanced the flavor of the delicious meal. There was minted lamb, roasted potatoes, and a wonderful salad containing flower petals, among many other dishes. After dinner there was such entertainment as harpers, singers, and storytellers. Lady Ithilwen had taken a seat beside Maeve and was a source of information on who was who and any such tidbits of gossip she knew. Maeve once again thanked her for her overwhelming kindness.

As many of the guests retired or returned to their homes, Maeve noticed her friends were nowhere to be found. Suddenly Legolas appeared and escorted her through the gardens, which looked even more beautiful in the moonlight. As they meandered, Legolas related the preparations that had been made on her behalf. All would be ready for her departure in the morning. "I wish you would stay longer, I've just begun to get to know you. It is difficult to find new friends in a place isolated as Mirkwood. Yet I know you are eager to find your brother."

"Yes, and I hope that I may return soon with him, so that he may know those who have given me such kindness and generosity."

They had returned to the courtyard. Maeve expressed a wish to retire and Legolas bid her goodnight, giving her an affectionate hug and kiss on the cheek. Just then Aragorn came striding down the hall. When he saw the two together he felt a twinge of jealousy. Though they were only friends, he thought of Maeve as his...There he went, being foolish again! Taking a deep breath, he approached them. 

"Why there you are, I've been looking for you," Maeve smiled at him sweetly. "M'lady, I've sharpened your weapons for you and had them sent to your rooms," Aragon announced as he bowed deeply.

"Oh, stop that! Stand up!" An embarrassed Maeve grabbed Aragorn's arm and pulled him upright. Her breath was warm on his neck as she spoke in a low tone. "Do not bow to me, it is you who should be bowed to!" Straightening, she raised her voice; "I do thank you for your service. Now if you'll pardon me, I've got a long day ahead."

Maeve reached her chambers and quietly undressed. Ára was fast asleep and she did not wish to wake her. She slid into the soft bed and savored the feel of the cool linen. It would be quite awhile before she would sleep in a bed again.

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Early the next morning Maeve dressed in her familiar moss green tunic and leather leggings. She left a note for the still slumbering Ára and carried her belongings down to the hall. Aragorn and Legolas greeted her and she ate a simple but filling breakfast. Legolas wished her a safe journey and went to attend to other business. Aragorn assisted her in tacking up Annûn Sûl. As she gave everything a final once over and filled her skins with water, she noticed Aragorn looking at her sadly. "Do not fret for me." She gently caressed his face. "Remember, you will have your Tinúviel." Maeve kissed him softly and then swung into the saddle. "Namárië tenna enomentiëlva,(Farewell, until next we meet)" she called as she urged Annûn Sûl into a gallop. Aragorn returned her wave and stood watching until the sound of hoof beats had faded.


Chapter 5 - Chapter 5

It was the sound of hoof beats that had awoken Aragorn from a restless sleep. There would be arrivals throughout the week for the upcoming council. He vaguely remembered dreaming of Maeve and how they had first met. He smiled fondly at the memory. Even now, the mystery of how some elves seemed both young and full of wisdom of ages enraptured him. Maeve had been right...When he had found Arwen in Lórien and they had pledged their betrothal, he was indeed glad that it could be done without guilt...It had been long since he had seen her. Last he had heard, she returned to Mirkwood occasionally before heading out again to continue her long search for her brother. He would have to see if Legolas had any news of her. Hopefully, his old friend would arrive soon. They had quite a bit of catching up to do.

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As it turned out, Legolas and the other elves from Mirkwood did not arrive until the very morning of the Council of Elrond. There was not time for much more than a greeting before all gathered to discuss the Ring and what was to be done. However, though the Fellowship was chosen, they would not leave for another seven days. There was much to be done, including the reforging of Narsil, which Aragorn renamed Andúril, Flame of the West, due to the brilliance with which the sword reflected the light of sun and moon. While much time was spent pouring over maps and books and planning with Gandalf, the Ranger managed to steal an evening away to speak with his old friend.

After much discussion of the upcoming journey and its preparations, Aragorn inquired about Maeve. Legolas's face was inscrutable as he replied. "I am glad you asked about Maeve. With all this other commotion I had almost forgotten. I was recently on a scouting mission with some of my men when we came upon a clearing that was strewn with dead orcs. We were pondering the meaning of this when we noticed movement near the trees. Upon drawing closer, we found Maeve hunched over one of the orcs."

Legolas paused to take a drink. Then with a heavy sigh he continued. "The orc had a shield and sword that were clearly Elven in design. What made it certain to be those of Alaric was what the orc wore as a trophy...a scalp full of long dark elf hair...apparently, finding this, Maeve had become overwhelmed with rage and somehow managed to slay dozens of orcs single-handedly. She was still in shock; as I approached her, she raised her bloodied sword and would have cleaved me in two, had I been any slower in evading the blade. 

Aragorn, it took four of us to subdue her! Never have I known a woman with her strength! Once unarmed, she sank unconscious to the ground. We put her on horseback and gathered her brother's weapons. There was some debate about what to do with...with his hair...but decided Maeve should be given the choice when she was able, so we collected that as well.

When we arrived home, I had Lady Ithilwen and Ára summoned to care for her. For many days Maeve did not speak, nor do anything other than sit and stare blankly. Ára said it was all she could do to force a bit of broth down her throat. I spent many nights keeping watch at her side. More often than not, Maeve would awaken with screams of terror and anguish and had to be restrained. She seemed to recognize no one and we feared that she would injure or simply starve herself. We were about to send word to Elrond to see if he knew some such healing we did not, when she began to recover. 

One night, while in her room, I was absent-mindedly singing an old song I had heard the court musicians playing earlier that day. Much to my surprise, a soft female voice joined mine. Turning, I saw Maeve sitting up, with tears streaming down her face. As we finished the song, I sat next to her. She explained that it was one of her brother's favorite songs, he had always loved to hear her sing it.
 
	Though she still grieves for her brother, that night was a turning point and Maeve seems to be regaining her strength. I wished to stay with her as long as possible; that is why I did not arrive sooner for the council."

Aragorn had listened intently to Legolas's account. "I am sorry not to be able to meet her brother. But at least now Maeve will not be out traveling alone. It is no longer safe to do so. I am curious; what did she do with Alaric's hair?"

"She has woven it into a belt upon which she carries his sword. She has also taken to wearing a few locks of it braided into her own. I fear she will be greatly altered by this tragedy." 

The two sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Legolas regretted having to leave Mirkwood at this time. Maeve had become dear to him, as a sister would be, and he hoped to be brother to she who had lost hers. He knew however, that the destruction of the Ring and the defeat of the forces of Mordor were more important than all else in Middle-Earth. He would have to trust that Maeve's strength and the care of others at Mirkwood would sustain her.

Aragorn was also saddened by the news of his friend's loss. He knew what it was like to grieve for a loved one. It seemed not all that long ago that his mother had passed on...indeed, there were times when the grief stabbed his heart anew, sharp as the Elven blade he carried... Hopefully Maeve would find comfort at Mirkwood. With any luck, perhaps they would one day meet again. Unfortunately, there were more pressing concerns at this time.

Just then Gandalf approached and the three began to discuss once again the journey that was imminent.


Chapter 6 - Chapter 6

At Mirkwood, it was as Legolas had described. A somber Maeve was in fact regaining her strength. As soon as she was able, she spent many hours practicing swordplay and other fighting skills, some of which Alaric had taught her all those many long years ago and others she had come across in her travels. Once she had recovered from the great shock of her brother's death, Maeve realized the best way to honor him would be to fight against those who had slain him. 

She also spent much time with Annûn Sûl. The horse had become more than just a means of transportation, indeed, at times it seemed that the noble creature was the only one who understood her. In addition to ensuring his fitness, Maeve accustomed her steed to wearing light armor, and to many sights and sounds so that he would remain calm in many situations. 

When not honing her physical strength, Maeve could be found poring over such books of lore and old songs that could be found at Mirkwood. While it was certainly nowhere near the bastion of knowledge that the House of Elrond was, the court of Thranduil contained a goodly number of volumes of Elven history and herb lore as well.

Once Maeve had completely regained her strength, she began to join the scouting parties that kept watch for enemies of Mirkwood. Lady Ithilwen and some of the others were quite concerned and thought her behavior odd, while others shrugged it off as being the ways of a foreign kingdom. King Thranduil was concerned for her safety of course, but was also quite proud of the woman he had long since thought of the daughter he'd never had. Indeed, when the time came to fight against forces of Sauron, there was no one he would have rather had at his side, excepting his son Legolas.

Many battles were waged and the elves fought long and hard. It did the warriors much good to have Maeve in their ranks. The sight of her coppery hair waving in the breeze as she fought valiantly by their king's side served to urge them on to greater bravery, and her stories and songs raised morale in the camp. She fulfilled her vow to her brother to slay many of those such as had caused his demise.

At last, the forces of Mordor were defeated throughout Middle-Earth. The Great Forest was divided between Thranduil and Celeborn and was renamed Eryn Lasgalen, The Wood of Greenleaves. There had been great fires and much had been burned. Yet as the seasons renew themselves, so did both the wood and its people, and it was not long before peace was restored to the land. 

Sylvania, however, had been utterly destroyed. Some of its inhabitants had sought refuge deep in the hills, while others fled to Mirkwood. With her home gone, Maeve remained in the court of King Thranduil and continued to be daughter to him. Then there was news of two travelers approaching the kingdom. An unlikely pair - that of an elf and a dwarf. A great feast was held in honor of Legolas and Gimli, such as not had occurred in many years. After a long visit at home, Legolas began to miss his dear friend, the man who had once been a great Ranger and was now a great King. He persuaded Maeve to join him and Gimli in their travels to Gondor. 

They were greeted with much joy by the King and Queen of Gondor. Wishing to present themselves well, the three had lodged at an inn the night before and dressed in fine garments. 
As they were announced at court, Maeve curtsied deeply before the royal couple. It brought much gladness to her heart to finally honor Aragorn as she had wished to since learning of his destiny. Legolas and Gimli also bowed respectfully. King Elessar urged his friends to rise, "There is no need for this; I know full well where your loyalties lie. It brings me joy to see you all again, especially Lady Maeve, it has been far too long since last we met."

The five spent much time talking over recent events. The three visitors were invited to stay at Minas Tirith as long as they liked. Maeve and Aragorn quickly renewed their friendship. They could often be found sparring together or discussing this or that old rhyme. Often four riders raced across the plain, sometimes joined by Lady Éowyn. Gimli preferred not to join them...he said he had done enough riding for ten lifetimes and would keep his feet firmly on the ground as much as possible.

Arwen and Maeve greatly enjoyed each other's company as well. Aragorn marveled at the two elf women; they were like two sides of the same coin. Each had great strength, beauty, and wisdom; yet where the raven-haired one was serene and prone to much thought, the other was as fiery as her tresses and given to action. In addition, the queen's flowing lacey dresses were often contrasted by the simpler garb of Maeve, though she wore her old attire of tunic and leggings only occasionally. 

After many months in Minas Tirith, Legolas, Gimli and Maeve returned to the Great Forest. It was decided that Legolas would take those who were willing south to settle in Ithilien, while Thranduil would remain in Eryn Lasgalen. Maeve settled in Ithilien as well, but occasionally returned to visit King Thranduil. Frequent trips were also made between those in Ithilien and Minas Tirith. 

Often when Maeve visited, Aragorn was away attending to affairs of state. As ruler of both Gondor and Arnor, he was kept quite busy. The queen also had much to attend to, though she weclomed Maeve's company. Resultantly, Maeve spent much time with the Prince Eldarion. He had learned much from his parents of course, but also enjoyed learning such herb lore and myths and songs that Maeve could teach. The elf woman attempted to have him practice at swords and fighting, yet he declined. Until, that is, he once witnessed his father receive a sound thrashing at her hands. This event made him realize that Maeve was not like many of the other women at court who seemed to wish only to stroll through the gardens and be told how lovely and graceful they were.

After that day, he looked forward to Maeve's visits in order to show her some new skill he had accomplished. Maeve also anticipated seeing the prince with gladness. As he grew into manhood, Eldarion resembled his father more and more with each passing season. He possessed the same flowing locks, the same grey-blue eyes; even his manner and way of walking were that of the king. Maeve wondered if her growing attraction was merely a reflection of what she had felt for his father. She resolved to keep her feelings hidden, as she had no wish to influence any decision Eldarion might make, particularly if they proved not to be true. It was enough to feel at home here and to have Legolas as brother. There was no reason to risk what happiness she had.

Try as one might, there was little that could be kept secret from Queen Arwen Undomiel. She who had lived countless years and held much wisdom could read the hearts of many, much like her kinswoman Galadriel had before she had gone to the West. She knew of Maeve's affection for her son and felt it to be pure and true. However, it was not for her to mention, but for Lady Maeve to make known at such time as she wished.

One night, as Arwen lay in the arms of her love and king, she was thinking of Maeve, who had recently returned home to Ithilien. Aragorn kissed the top of her head and asked, "You are quiet this evening, lady. What is it that fills your thoughts so?" She turned to face him as she explained. "Our friend Maeve. She is in love with our son, you know." Aragorn looked startled, "Has she told you this? She has said nothing to me." The queen laughed, "No dear husband, but a woman senses these things, especially one as wise as I." 

"Since my wife is so wise, I suppose she also knows that our son also fancies the lady with the copper hair." 

"Has he spoken of this?" Arwen raised an eyebrow in questioning.

"No, but his eyes betray him." How long ago it had been when Elrond had said much the same about he himself.

"Yes, and she looks at him much the way she looks at you." At Arwen's words, Aragorn looked puzzled. "How can you not know? The woman has loved you ever since she met you, my love. And I must admit, she has excellent taste! But it is in the presence of Eldarion that she truly glows."

"Then we must begin plans for a great wedding feast!"

"Not just yet, Elessar...We must let them make the realization on their own. The time will come for planning when they are ready."


Chapter 7 - Chapter 7

Many months had passed when next Legolas, Gimli and Maeve next came to Minis Tirith. Maeve had forced herself to stay away for fear of acting foolishly over Eldarion. Now in Gondor, she tried to avoid his gaze and spent much time with the queen and with Lady Éowyn who was also in the city. Then one morning, the prince asked her to come and spar with him, so that he could show her some new trick he had learned. Maeve hesitated. She had planned to go out walking alone on this fine day. But she did not wish Eldarion to believe that she was angry with him, and others might think it odd if she did not go as well, so she consented.

As they fought, Maeve was glad that she had agreed. It had been a while since she had enjoyed such fine swordplay. Few of the others in Ithilien were near her skill and while Legolas was good with a sword, he much preferred archery. He also meant to keep his promise of not being one to hit a lady and did not want to risk injuring his adopted sister.

The two friends were evenly matched, but finally Eldarion had managed to catch Maeve off guard. Not expecting his blow to connect, he swung with great force. Maeve dodged a split-second too late and was knocked to the ground. In fact, she was left gasping for breath. Eldarion rushed to her side. "Maeve, I'm so sorry...I didn't mean to..." 

"I'm...I'm ...all right." Maeve laid on the ground as her breathing returned to normal. She opened her eyes to see Eldarion bending over her with a look of concern. He smoothed her hair away from her face, then leaned in and kissed her. He helped Maeve to a sitting position. As he embraced her, Maeve felt a burden lift from her heart...she knew then that her love for Eldarion was true.

Eldarion drew back, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

Maeve touched his lips gently. "Shhh, it's okay, it's alright."

"I don't know how to say this, and I don't know what you'll think, but I have to tell you...I want to spend my life with you...I...I love you, Maeve." Eldarion looked away, not wanting to see her reaction. He feared she would laugh at him.

Maeve reached out and turned his face toward hers. Her brilliant green eyes sparkled with joy as she smiled. "That is good to hear, as I love you as well, my dear prince."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two spent the rest of the afternoon making plans and enjoying the fine weather. Upon returning to court, Eldarion spoke privately with the king and queen. Aragorn and Arwen approved of the pairing as they knew the two would be happy for many years. It still fascinated Aragorn that both Maeve and Arwen looked much the same as in the days when he had met them. Yet if he looked deep into her eyes, he could see the scars left on Maeve's heart by the loss of her brother. He was glad she would finally have happiness, though he would never have guessed it would be with his son. It would be good to have her as part of the family. 

The prince then went to Legolas to ask for his blessing. The elven prince gladly consented. Eldarion had become noble and strong, learning the way of the woods from his father. From his mother he possessed wisdom, compassion, and love of knowledge. In Maeve he found his match. 
If it were Maeve's wish, then Legolas certainly would not stand in her way. He remembered how it had been when Elrond had found out Aragorn's love for Arwen. It seemed that Eldarion was following in his father's footsteps in more ways than one!

Word was also sent to King Thranduil, as well as many other friends and dignitaries. Within days it seemed the entire city knew the news and eagerly began preparing for the wedding. It proved to be a great occasion, many remarked it the biggest event since King Elessar's crowning and marriage to Arwen.

The happy couple decided to remain at court, where Eldarion could continue to learn much about the kingdom he would one day rule. After many happy years, King Elessar felt his life beginning to ebb. He knew that his son would be a proper king and that his time had drawn to a close. He spoke a final time to those that he loved dearly and then entered the House of the Kings. There he relinquished the winged crown of Gondor and the scepter of Arnor to Eldarion. At long last, Arwen alone kept watch over Aragorn who then went to his rest.

In her grief, Arwen went to dwell in Lórien for a season and then laid herself to rest upon Cerith Amroth. Eldarion proved to be a just and kind king, a fitting heir to the throne of King Elessar. He too lived longer than most men, though not near the lifespan of his great father. When after many years of happiness he joined Aragorn in rest, their children being grown, Maeve sailed over Sea, joining Legolas and many that she loved.

Thus ends the tale of Maeve of Sylvania.
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