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Title: The Sea Calls Us Home (#985)
Author: Aibrean
Chapters: 9

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Archive: Tolkien
Category: Lord of the Rings (Movieverse)
Description: Legolas, along with his friend Gimli, prepares to leave Middle-earth for the Undying Lands. He still has a few adventures along the way, however. *the usual disclaimers apply -- see "Return to Valinor" for specifics*
Published: 04 Jun 2004
Updated: 24 Jan 2005
Warnings: None at this time
Type: Drama
Characters: Legolas, Gimli, Elladan, Elrohir, Celeborn, Thrand


Chapter 1 - Prologue

To the Sea, to the Sea! The white gulls are crying,
The wind is blowing, and the white foam is flying.
West, west away, the round sun is falling.
Grey ship, grey ship, do you hear them calling,
The voices of my people that have gone before me?
I will leave, I will leave the woods that bore me;
For our days are ending and our years are failing.
I will pass the wide waters lonely sailing.
Long are the waves on the Last Shore falling,
Sweet are the voices in the Lost Isle calling,
In Eressëa, in Elvenhome that no man can discover,
Were the leaves fall not: land of my people for ever!
Legolas – ROTK/The Field of Cormallen


Prologue

Gimli the dwarf stirred from a deep sleep at the slight sound of movement outside the chamber of his lordly lodgings in Aglarond, the colony built amidst the caverns of the Glittering Caves in Rohan. Slumber always claimed him easily, but after many years abroad in Middle-earth traveling with his friend Prince Legolas of Mirkwood, the Lord of the Glittering Caves could still rouse at the merest sound.

“Well, now that I’m awake,” he reasoned aloud, thinking there was no one to hear him, “I may as well find something to eat. I’m hungry!”

As the stout warrior passed into the Great Hall from his chambers he heard a quiet, “You are always hungry, my friend,”

Pale gold hair and deeply blue eyes swung from the contemplation of the stars through an upper window to focus on Gimli with tolerant affection.

“Hmph,” Gimli growled, though a chuckle followed it. “Can’t you sleep?”

Legolas smiled in the dim hall, the streaming rays of the moon the only light limning the elegant lines of his face. “I do not seem to need as much as you, Gimli. What woke you?”

“You did, you pointy-eared cave troll,” he grumbled and the elf laughed lightly at the insult. It was many years since Legolas took offense at his friend’s gruff words. “Come on. Let’s find something to eat.”

Stomping sleepily down the corridor, Gimli headed for the kitchens and his friend followed silently behind him. The rest of the underground colony slumbered deeply, unaware of their restless founder and his elven companion.

Legolas placidly watched Gimli as the dwarf banged around looking for his late night snack. Finally a generous wedge of cheese joined some dried beef and a small loaf of bread on the table and then two mugs of ale, the last of a small keg, rounded out the brief meal.

Gimli did not stand on ceremony and immediately sat and dug into the food while the elf sat with less alacrity.

“What’s bothering you?” asked the dwarf barely pausing before taking a deep pull from his ale mug.

Raising an elegant eyebrow, Legolas asked, “What makes you think anything is bothering me?”

“I may not have the intuition of a prissy elven princeling like yourself,” he tore into a crust of bread and chewed noisily, “but I’ve been with you long enough to know when you’ve got something on your mind.”

Without preamble, the elf replied, “I am going home.”

“Home?!” he snorted. “Whatever for? You haven’t been back to Mirkwood in years…”

“Gimli, it’s time for me to leave now.”

“What? This very moment? Surely you can wait until it’s light. Mirkwood will be there another day, my friend.”

“I’m not talking about Mirkwood, mellonmin. It’s time for me to leave Middle-earth.”

This news was enough to keep the dwarf from his food. “You’re going to take the ship?”

“Yes,” Legolas answered starkly. Gimli sat back in his chair, trying to digest this news along with his hastily eaten food. The elf-prince continued, “I do, however, feel that I should see my father before I go -- perhaps even convince him to accompany me. Although I hold little hope of that.”

The dwarf continued to sit in stunned silence another moment then stood suddenly and scoffed, “Bah! You are still just glum because Aragorn has passed away, Legolas. You would not make such a hasty decision. I’m going back to bed. You should too.”

With that, the stocky warrior strode back towards his apartments, not believing his friend would follow through on his plans so impetuously.

Yet, Legolas’ decision was neither hasty nor born of his sorrow of the King’s death. Ever since he had smelled the Sea he had longed to take the ship to Valinor. For Legolas this decision was a long time in coming and now the day had arrived to see it done at last.

-end of Prolgoue-


Chapter 2 - Chapter One

Several weeks later Gimli found himself crossing the Ford of Bruinen on the approach to Imladris. Legolas had said nothing to him about going with him, but the dwarf was still of the sullen opinion that his friend tricked him into accompanying the elf on the journey.

It was long since the stouter warrior had given up riding behind the tall, lithe Legolas on horseback. The Rohirrim had gifted him a large, sturdy pony for his use in gratitude for his part in the salvation of Helm’s Deep and Gimli finally broke down and learned to tolerate riding the placid beast.

Or perhaps plodding was a better description, for the pony took his own sweet time regardless of the wishes of his master. Gimli saw his friend getting smaller and smaller ahead of him on the path.

“Don’t mind me!” he shouted ahead with thinly veiled sarcasm. “I’ll catch up to you when I’m ready!”

Blithely Legolas glanced back at his friend and responded, “Stop grumbling, my friend, and take a little gallop! It will do you both good!”

Never able to dismiss a taunting challenge from Legolas, Gimli urged his mount to move faster and grudgingly the pony eased into a canter at least.

“If I remember correctly we should be almost there,” said the dwarf archly as he drew his mount beside Legolas’ beautiful steed, trying not to pant from the quicker pace.

Legolas agreed, “Indeed, it is not much farther.” Then added with a smirk, “But perhaps you would like a brief rest before we go on?”

“It would serve you right if I did,” Gimli snorted good-naturedly. “Don’t think I don’t know how eager you are to reach Rivendell, my friend. It’s been awhile since you’ve been among your own people…”

Turning suddenly wistful, the elf prince replied, “There are few enough of us left…”

They fell silent for a time, each alone with his own thoughts until Legolas was finally startled to hear movement ahead of them in the forest. He reined his mount to a stop and Gimli did likewise with a raised eyebrow in question.

“What’s the problem?” he asked.

“There is someone nearby… someone waiting for us,” answered the elf.

“Why is that so surprising? It’s probably one of your rarefied kinsmen who you’re longing to see.”

“No, he is no elf…”

Impatiently, Gimli said, “Then what are you waiting for? You are too cautious. Ask him to show himself!” When Legolas did not immediately call out to the stranger, he took it upon himself to do it instead, “Hey there! Stop lurking and let us see you! We are fierce warriors and we will gladly whet our weapons on your neck, sir!”

He gave Legolas a self-satisfied nod while the elf merely rolled his eyes and sighed.

“No need for that, my good Gimli,” spoke a raspy voice as a tall form dressed in muddy brown robes stepped onto the path from the curtain of dense trees.

“Who are you, sir, that you know my name?” asked the dwarf with alarm.

A pert robin swooped down to land on the stranger’s shoulder as he replied, “No one to threaten you, to be sure. I am Radagast the Brown and I have been waiting for your friend here.”

Gimli turned to look at his companion and saw his expression was unusually startled. “Humph… another troublesome wizard,” he groused.

“What do you want of me, my lord?” Legolas asked the Istari.

“Word has it, good prince, that you are preparing to go over the Sea.”

“That is true,” he replied with wonder, “though I do not know how you should have heard of it. I have only told Gimli my intentions for the journey.”

The robin hopped lightly to Radagast’s proffered finger as the wizard said, “Oh snippets of news come to me from many sources. This little fellow just stopped to tell me that Masters Elladan and Elrohir have only just returned from riding, so we have a few moments to spare here to chat together before seeking their hospitality at the Last Homely House.”

Still a little unsettled, Legolas asked, “What is it you wish to chat about?”

“As I mentioned, it was heard that you intend to sail to the Undying Lands so preparations must get underway. I’ve only been asked to confirm your plans.”

“I don’t know that I would say that my plans are confirmed, only that I’ve decided I am ready to take the ship,” the elf prince replied. “I have much to do before I leave Middle-earth.”

“Ah… no rush, my good prince…” the wizard assured him with a casual wave. “I must be off on another errand. Don’t tarry in Imladris too long, Legolas. Your father will be anxious to see you. Farewell, my friends. We will meet again!”

Before either the elf or the dwarf could respond, Radagast tromped back into the woods and seemed to disappear all at once. The two friends looked to each other with astonished expressions and Gimli said, “Well, there goes a strange bird. I don’t know that I like him knowing all our business.”

“He’s very like Gandalf, I suppose, and yet…” Legolas left his thought hanging as he pondered the strange encounter with the Istari.

Urging his pony forward, Gimli said matter-of-factly, “Nevermind him now, Legolas. Surely your friends have gathered themselves and know of our imminent arrival. Let’s go see what they have to eat.”

The elf prince chuckled at his friend’s customary comment and fell in beside him, but the wizard’s appearance still left him somewhat unsettled.


-end of Chapter One-


Chapter 3 - Chapter Two

Mídhenaer shaded her deep sea green eyes with a graceful hand as she gazed from the watchtower towards the East and away from the Sea. An unusual occurrence to be certain as the daughter of Círdan the shipwright was more likely to look towards the Undying Lands, seeking the return of her father or watching him go in the course of his duties as ferryman to the Elven people.

“No word yet?” she heard the beloved tones of her sire’s resonant bass voice.

She turned to meet him, her rich blue-black hair cascading fluidly over her left shoulder as her head tipped up to match his gaze. “Laume, Ada. Not even a glimmer of a sign. Perhaps he is not yet ready…”

“He is ready,” announced Círdan with assurance. “Yet he may have other commitments to see through before he may leave.”

“Like his friendship with the dwarf?”

The sea captain shrugged lightly, “The Elf-friend’s path has not been revealed to me. It may be that Legolas is not so easily rid of Gimli, Glóin’s son.”

She laughed lightly and tossed her heavy hair behind her as she replied, “What an unlikely pair they are!”

“Indeed they are, melethnín,” he smiled then sobered instantly. “I cannot wait longer for him, Mídhenaer. The ship awaits and I must sail. You know what to do if you get word while I’m gone?”

“Nai, Ada,” she answered. “I know what to do. Legolas Greenleaf will get the help he needs when the time comes.”

Stooping to give her a soft kiss on the cheek, “You are my treasure, Mídhenaer. I will miss you when I am gone.” To his surprise she suddenly clung to him like a young child. “There, there, my girl… the time is coming when we will sail together and then we won’t have to be separated again. So dry your tears and I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Namárië, Ada,” she swallowed her tears. “Safe journey and a speedy return…”

Círdan caressed her silky hair softly and then shouldered his pack and slowly descended the watchtower to the pier. Wistfully Mídhenaer watched him go for a long moment, but then with a sigh she returned to her lonely vigil.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Rúmil strode onto the veranda where the brothers Elladan and Elrohir had joined Celeborn after their daily ride. As the number of his people staying in Lothlórien was dwindling, The Lord of the Golden Wood had gathered the remainder of the Galadhrim to resettle in Imladris. Now Queen Arwen wandered those silent woods alone and in sorrow. No one wanted to intrude upon her mournful and solitary desolation.

“My lords,” the sentry greeted them with a brief bow, “word has traveled up from the Ford that Prince Legolas and his friend the dwarf are approaching Rivendell.”

“Legolas?” asked Elrohir, arching an eyebrow in mild surprise. “What in the name of the Valar is he doing here? I thought he was living in Ithilien?”

“Actually, I’ve been staying with Gimli in Aglarond,” spoke the elf-prince as he and Gimli were shown to the veranda. “I beg your pardon, my lords, for arriving unannounced. Gimli and I are journeying to Mirkwood and hoped we might beg a few nights’ lodging here with you.”

“Of course,” Elladan answered affably. “Welcome back to Rivendell, my friends! Stay as long as you wish…”

Celeborn looked at his woodland sentry and remarked dryly, “Your information, Rúmil, seems to be slow in coming this day. Perhaps you should check on what sort of distraction might keep Orophin from sending it on in a more timely fashion.”

All the elflords knew, however, that the “distraction” was one elfmaid called Rodwen with whom Orophin was lately infatuated. Bright eyes and bright hair in a graceful body were a potent enough diversion, but as the remaining women were few and far between, the pull to find a mate was even stronger. This was the third elfmaid Rúmil’s brother had courted since the Galadhrim arrived in Imladris.

“I will do so, my lord,” Rúmil responded gravely with a bow before leaving the veranda.

Always the genial host, Elladan asked, “Now where were we? Are you hungry? Or would you like to freshen up first?”

Legolas, of course, knew Gimli’s answer, but forestalled him by replying, “A hot bath and a fresh change of clothes first would be welcome, my Lord Elladan. Would they not, Gimli?”

The dwarf’s answer was a surly growl and Legolas took that as grudging agreement.

Leading them off some moments later to guest housing, Elladan met up with a lovely, if grave-looking, elfmaid as they crossed the courtyard.

“Eruwestiel,” he greeted with a fond smile, “you are just the one I was looking for. Do you have a moment to spare?”

She paused expectantly and responded, “Always, uncle. How may I serve?”

Briefly the elflord introduced Legolas and Gimli to her then reciprocated by saying, “And gentlemen, this is my niece. Since my daughter Carantaliel went over the Sea, Eruwestiel has been like a second child to me.”

With grey eyes and silky jet hair, it was no surprise to learn she was of the House of Elrond Halfelven. Her sober air completed the picture then, sealing her resemblance to her solemn sire Elrohir, though she did smile at the newcomers graciously. “Mae govannen, Prince Legolas… Master Gimli…” she bowed her head.

“Hannon lle, arwenamin,” Legolas responded automatically then heard Gimli grumble quietly at his side. “Forgive us, my friend,” he told him. “It’s old habit, I’m afraid.”

“You’d think after all these years you would have at least taught me a little of your language…”

Legolas gave his friend an arch look, “Why do I have a feeling you know more than you pretend?”

Gimli chuckled, confirming the elf-prince’s suspicions. “Come, Legolas, let’s get settled so we can have something to eat.”

Turning to his niece, Elladan said with tolerant amusement, “Eruwestiel, you know which guest quarters are best to offer these gentlemen. Would you see it done, my dear?”

She nodded with silent gravity and then gestured for Legolas and Gimli to follow her.

“She’s a cheerful one…” the dwarf murmured under his breath.

“Hush, Gimli,” responded Legolas quietly.

“My friends,” Elladan said, “dinner is at sunset in my father’s old apartments. Do you remember the way?” When the elf-prince nodded acknowledgement, he added, “Excellent. We will see you when you’ve rested then. Welcome again to Rivendell…”

-end of Chapter Two-

Translations:
Laume, Ada -- No, Daddy
Melethnín -- My Love
Nai, Ada -- yes, Daddy
Namárië, Ada -- Farewell, Daddy
Mae Govannen -- Welcome
Hannon lle, arwenamin -- Thank you, my lady


Chapter 4 - Chapter Three

Eruwestiel sized up the two newcomers as she led them to the guest quarters. Gimli, she dismissed immediately, as she had no interest in dwarves or their business. Legolas, however, was a puzzle to her.

The elf-prince paid scant attention to her and she found that somewhat troubling. Eruwestiel was known among the elflords in Imladris for her cool aloofness towards them. That, of course, only added to her allure; and being the daughter of Elrohir made her one of the most sought after and desirable elfmaids left in Middle-earth. So why did Legolas Greenleaf barely even give her a second look?

“What brings you to Imladris, my lord?” she asked him. “Have you come to stay with us?”

“For a few nights, my lady,” Legolas replied. “I am on my way to visit my father in Mirkwood.”

“Mirkwood?” Eruwestiel laughed lightly. “Do you still call it that?”

Legolas was not amused at her teasing tone. “It is my home, my lady,” he replied stiffly. “It may be called something else now, but to me it will always be Mirkwood.”

Gimli tried very hard not to chuckle at her. Thranduil’s kingdom might not exactly rival what Lord Elrond and his sons had created in Rivendell, but his friend was no backwoods elf-prince to be mocked, even by a beautiful elfmaiden.

With a raised eyebrow at his tone, she replied, “I beg your pardon. Mirkwood it shall be then,” and continued down an arcade to stop at a pair of rooms joined by an airy pergola. “Here you are, my lords,” she said shortly. “Dinner, again, is at sunset. Tenna san…”

Before either could respond, Eruwestiel sailed back down the long, covered walkway without another look back at them.

“And you give me a hard time about making new friends,” Gimli could not help but harass Legolas a little.

Uncharacteristically, the elegant elf grunted with annoyance and headed towards his room.

“Have a nice nap!” Gimli called to him cheerily then chuckled as he, too, went in to lie down before dinner.


The daughter of Elrohir was noticeably absent when the pair joined the others for the evening meal. In fact, there was no female presence at all among the diners. Even the servers were all male.

Legolas thought that curious, but did not ask about Eruwestiel or any of the other ladies of Rivendell. He very much doubted their absence had anything to do with him or his friend.

That thought was challenged, however, when Elladan asked his brother, “And where is Eruwestiel and her friends, brother? I thought she was going to act as hostess tonight? Is she feeling quite well?”

Elrohir shrugged, “My daughter assures me she is fine. Only that she had other plans for this evening, which involved another elleth. With her gone, I'm assuming the others decided not to join us either." His brother frowned, thinking it showed disrespect on their part not to wait upon their new guests. "You know how independent she is, Elladan," Elrohir continued, "She rivals your Cara, though she is much more sedate.”

His twin sighed, “Cara… how I miss that elfchild! I hope she is doing all right now that she is in Valinor.”

“If you wish, my lord,” said Legolas gravely, “I will seek her out when I arrive and deliver any message you choose. Though I imagine she would much rather hear it from your own lips.”

Leaning forward across his arm on the table, Elladan asked, “So you are taking the ship then?”

“I am,” stated the elf-prince. “Except for Gimli here, I have no real connection to Middle-earth any longer. I long to go.”

“I have considered it,” agreed Elladan, “but the Sea does not call to me. The blood of the Edain is still strong in me… and my brother.” He looked to Elrohir who nodded soberly in agreement.

“What about you, my lord?” Gimli asked Celeborn. “You have your wife waiting for you in the Undying Lands. Will you not go to her?”

“I have been there and back,” spoke the Lord of the Golden Wood. “Valinor holds no allure for me… at least for now.”

The dwarf shook his head, “The allure of The Lady alone would be enough to draw me, my lord. She is the loveliest creature I ever beheld…”

Shrewdly, Elrohir asked, “Given the opportunity, would you go to the Undying Lands, Gimli son of Glóin?”

Gimli snorted, “Little chance of that happening! Why even speculate? I’m as likely to be invited to Valinor as Sauron himself…”

Those at the table chuckled along with him, but Legolas pondered the question the rest of the evening.

As the friends paused on the threshold of their respective chambers, the elf-prince brought up the subject again. “What if you could go, Gimli?” he asked. “Would you consider it?”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing our friends again, Frodo and Sam. You know…see how they’re faring among the Elves,” he mused. “And it would be an honor to see Lady Galadriel, maybe create something beautiful for her in payment for her gift to me.” He looked at his friend archly, “What do you think of it? Would you want me to come with you? Perhaps explore the Undying Lands like we have here?”

Honestly, Legolas answered, “I have enjoyed the time we’ve spent together here, my friend. I really have not thought beyond making the journey. I do not have any idea what Valinor holds for me.”

Hands on his hips, Gimli said, “You did not answer my question, Legolas.”

“If you could be happy there I would enjoy your company as always, my friend.”

Acknowledging the elf’s tacit reluctance the dwarf grunted and nodded. “Well, we’ll never have to test it, will we? Good night, Legolas.”

Legolas watched his friend thoughtfully as Gimli ambled into his chambers, wondering why Lord Elrohir would bring up such a question when the answer was a moot point. Or was it?


Gimli was grumpy when he woke the next morning. He had slept fitfully, a combination of reposing in the unsettling open air of Rivendell when he was again used to the safe, enclosing walls of rock of Aglarond and the muted peacefulness that was yet tense with melancholy rather than the more raucous, happy noise of his own folk. He had tossed and turned a great deal before dropping off at last.

Though he would never admit it to his friend, the dwarf was also perturbed by the conversation he had with Legolas upon retiring.

Perhaps he thought the elf would not go through with his plans to sail into the West; that once he was among his own folk again, he would see how pale and uninteresting they were. Why would Legolas go to a land populated entirely by more of the same when there was still much to experience and enjoy in Middle-earth?

But he saw in Legolas’ eyes that he meant to go. So, what did that mean for Gimli? Did his friend not even care what would become of him upon his departure?

“Hmph!” he growled angrily aloud. “Who needs that pointy-eared princeling anyway?”

Gimli was tired, though. He had gotten used to his life in Aglarond, only venturing out of the Caves when Legolas could no longer stand being underground. The journey to Rivendell, while not taxing, had left him somewhat weary, he found.

Perhaps that was why Legolas wanted to abandon him in Middle-earth? Perhaps he sensed the dwarf nearing the end of his years and rather than watch him wither away, he wished to spare him that indignity.

“Elves really do have it in them to be quite noble!” he suddenly thought fondly.

The dwarf then made some of his own decisions concerning the future.

-end of Chapter Three-

Translations:
Tenna san -- Until then
Elleth -- Elfmaid


Chapter 5 - Chapter Four

When Gimli finished his breakfast, which some kind soul left while he was still sleeping, he went looking for Legolas.

Not finding him in the room next door, the dwarf went wandering abroad in Imladris only to discover that his friend went out riding with Elladan and Elrohir. If the day before was any indication, Gimli did not expect to see Legolas until after luncheon, for it was well past midday when they rode in themselves and Radagast had informed them the elf brothers had just returned to the Last Homely House.

The goodwill he was feeling for the elf prince was quickly fading while he pondered what to do among people he did not know.

As he wandered aimlessly through the airy corridors and porticos of the elven village, he finally came upon a familiar face.

Eruwestiel was sitting on a carved bench beneath a great tree. Ostensibly she was reading, but Gimli noticed she looked up from her book frequently as she watched her fellow elves to and fro on their daily business.

Not exactly his first choice of companions, but she was someone to talk to at least.

“My lady,” he gave her a perfectly correct bow of his head, “would you mind some company? I find myself alone and looking for someone to pass the time with…’

The elfmaid looked somewhat startled to be addressed by a dwarf, but answered with her cool graciousness, “Not at all, Master Dwarf. Do have a seat…”

Her bench, however, was filled with her needlework and other books. As she made no move to clear them away, Gimli contented himself with a nearby tree stump.

“It’s been many years since I’ve been to Rivendell,” he commented as he looked around the courtyard, “but nothing seems to have changed much.”

She gave him a delicate shrug, “If you were to live as long as an elf you would see that real change comes along very slowly.” He had no answer to that and waited to see if she would pick up the conversation. “Your friend seems determined to make the voyage to the Undying Lands,” she said finally.

“Aye,” he sighed.

“Why now? Most of us left in Middle-earth have made the decision to stay.”

“He’s been putting it off for some time, so he says. What has kept him here, I do not know for certain.”

Coyly, she asked, “Is there perhaps an elleth waiting for him in Valinor that he is anxious to go to?”

“If he has,” Gimli’s eyebrows raised, “she left long before I met him. He’s never mentioned anyone in particular, so I doubt it.”

Her expression brightened, “So Prince Legolas is not spoken for?”

“Not that I know of, my lady,” he answered.

“Excellent,” Eruwestiel replied, and then added quickly, “I mean, it would be cruel to leave someone behind here if he is so determined to go. There isn’t anyone here in Middle-earth either, is there?”

Gimli crossed his arms on his chest and looked at her askance, “Why do you ask?”

Before she could come up with an answer, they were surprised to hear the dwarf being called from across the courtyard, “Gimli, there you are! I’ve been looking for you, my friend.” Legolas strode towards the pair, taking a moment to give Eruwestiel a polite nod of greeting.

“Looking for me?” Gimli grumped. “I’ve been looking for you, and was told you went riding. I didn’t expect to see you for hours.”

The elf prince gave his friend a tolerant smile, “Now, Gimli, would I leave you alone, in an unfamiliar place, to fend for yourself?”

“Humph!”

Legolas laughed at his friend. “I was going to see if you wanted to join me in a hike through the woods, but you seem to have found a more pleasant diversion.”

“Do not bother about me, my lords,” Eruwestiel gave the elf prince one of her most enigmatic smiles and stood. “I have much to do before this evening. My uncle wishes for us to open the Hall of Fire tonight in your honor. I do hope you have a song or two share with us.”

Legolas acknowledged her with a polite nod and she looked to Gimli archly.

“Dwarves don’t sing,” he stated firmly.

“No?”

“The only music a dwarf loves is the ring of metal on rock or the satisfying thud when an axe bites into an enemy’s flesh.”

Eruwestiel looked frankly appalled, and Gimli gave her a hasty smile to soften his words.

“Perhaps we’ll leave dwarf music for another time. Tenna telwan…”

After the elfmaid departed, Gimli chuckled heartily, and Legolas could not help but join in, though he admonished his friend, “Gimli, you are incorrigible.”

“That one needs taking down a peg, I think,” he explained. “And you need watch yourself, my friend. She has her eye on you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re leaving tomorrow. I’ve made no secret of it – why should she bother?”

The dwarf crossed his arms on his chest, “She thinks a lot of herself, that one. I imagine she believes she can convince you to stay.”

Shifting his weight, Legolas asked, “And what makes you think that?”

“She was asking a lot of questions about you – such as if you are spoken for.” Legolas’ elegant forehead furrowed with skepticism and Gimli added, “You mark my words, Legolas.”

The problem was, the elf-prince soon began to believe him.


Legolas enjoyed the evening in the Hall of Fire. Many songs were pieces that he had not heard for some time, and there were also quite a few he had not heard at all. He sang briefly, but left the bulk of the night to the more practiced singers.

Eruwestiel’s performance was the centerpiece of the evening, singing a long ballad written about the love story of Elessar and Arwen. He discovered later it was written by the elf brothers together when Elrohir presented a copy of the music and lyrics to him to take to their father, Elrond.

It was obvious Eruwestiel was keeping an eye on him, and he tried to ignore it. He supposed he should feel flattered. The elfmaid was the most eligible elleth in Imladris, perhaps even Middle-earth. Yet, he had no interest in any romantic entanglements while still in Aman. Perhaps had he not smelled the Sea and felt the longing to sail into the West, he would’ve already found a mate. Yet, knowing he would leave Middle-earth sooner or later he did not want to feel torn between taking the ship or leaving someone behind – leaving Gimli was going to be difficult enough.

Eruwestiel knew she sang well. She was sought after for her talent as much as her beauty or even her rank. However, the elf-prince remained unmoved, which piqued her. Did he not know what an honor she was conferring upon him? Why, she had three proposals alone this week! Stronger measures would need to be taken. Quietly, she slipped out of the Hall.


Legolas sent Gimli off to sleep long before he was ready to retire himself. The reveling finally wound down after moonrise, however, and the elf-prince slowly strolled back towards his room.

The Last Homely House was still and peaceful. Most residents of Rivendell had gone to their own lodging and only a few could be seen abroad, silently making their way home.

He was startled then to hear movement in his sleeping chamber when he arrived. Cautiously he drew out a small dagger from his belt, his other heavier weapons stowed away until the morning, and glided toward the door.

The intruder made no move to hide, for candles were lit and food was laid out on the bed table.

Unsurprisingly, Eruwestiel was reclining on the bed.

“Mae govannen, herumin,” she purred. I hoped you would join me soon. You don’t mind me coming, do you?”

Legolas tried to get out of the situation diplomatically. “While your invitation is flattering, arwenamin, I’d hope to get some rest before leaving early in the morning.”

Eruwestiel was not going for his tact, ”Why must you leave? You have plenty of time to visit your father. In fact, you don’t have to leave at all. I and Rivendell have much to offer you.”

He re-sheathed his dagger as he answered tolerantly, “While I have no doubt of that, arwenamin, I have made the decision to sail to the Undying Lands – and you belong with your family here. I would not play with your emotions to make promises I have no way to keep.”

She held out an inviting hand, “Then make no promises, Legolas. Just come lay with me for tonight – no regrets in the morning…”

“I can’t do that,” he solemnly shook his head. “I would have regrets, and so would you, Eruwestiel. Go find one of your other lovers to keep you company tonight, for I in good conscience cannot.”

Several emotions played across her pretty face: disappointment, disbelief, hurt and finally haughtiness before she finally answered, “Very well.” She got to her feet, her wine-colored shift showing all her lovely curves – and more, but she did not bother to adjust it for modesty’s sake. “You will regret this someday, Legolas of Mirkwood.”

“Then that will be a burden I will have to bear alone. Good night, arwenamin. I hope you find better luck with your next companion.”

“Humph!” she turned on her heel and departed in a huff, her filmy gown trailing seductively after her.

Trembling, Legolas sat on the edge of the bed. That was a close call. He had no interest in Eruwestiel as a wife, but her blatant invitation to be lovers for one night was appealing. Still, he sensed that once would not be enough for her, like it would be for him. He knew his own mind, and that was to take the ship. Eruwestiel would have to bed and wed one of her many suitors in Imladris instead.


The next morning, only Elladan, Elrohir and Celeborn saw Legolas and Gimli off on their next leg of the journey. Rúmil and Orophin stood by to escort them on their way, but no other residents took their time to wish them well. Eruwestiel, especially, was conspicuously absent.

Legolas sighed, “Lord Elrohir, I think I have insulted your daughter unintentionally last night. I’d hoped to make amends this morning, but as she’s not here I hope you will convey my apology for any hard feelings between us.”

The elflord cocked an eyebrow at him, “I will certainly do so, Legolas, though I think she may’ve learned a lesson in all of this. Thank you for not giving in to her whims.” Apparently Eruwestiel’s motives were more transparent than Legolas perhaps thought.

“The temptation was great, my lord, believe me,” he admitted. “But I don’t regret my decision not to give in to her. My mind is made up, as you well know.”

“Indeed,” Elrohir held out a hand, which Legolas shook warmly. “Safe journey to you both…”

Celeborn gave him a profound nod of the head, which the elf-prince returned, then Elladan spoke, “You said you would deliver any message I might have for my daughter Carantaliel…” he held out a vellum packet. “I hope you don’t mind?”

“Not at all, my lord,” he answered. “I will be happy to do you this favor.”

As Legolas accepted the letter and tucked it in his saddlebag, Elladan gripped his shoulder, “Hannon lle.”

Finally, the fair elf said, “Come, Gimli. Let us be on our way. We’ve disrupted our friends’ lives enough for two days. Shall we go impose on my father for awhile?”

-end of Chapter Four-


Chapter 6 - Chapter Five

If Legolas thought that was the end of their contact with the residents of Imladris, he was mistaken.

The pair of friends was some quarter hour on the road when they were surprised to find Eruwestiel ahead of them on the path.

She was mounted on her dappled gray mare and the elfmaid looked both regal and grave as they approached. Wearing riding clothes of pewter velvet to match her horse’s sleek coat and her silky, jet hair pulled back severely from her patrician face, she was the picture of cool, elven beauty.

It was obvious she was awaiting them, but Eruwestiel did not smile in greeting.

The elf prince sighed lightly beside Gimli who glanced up at his friend, but Legolas made no other comment. Together they continued towards her.

“Good morning to you, my lords,” she greeted them soberly when they at last met her on the road.

“And to you, my lady,” replied Legolas civilly.

Gimli merely answered, “My lady…” and nodded curtly.

“I felt that we left things unfinished last night, Your Highness,” Eruwestiel stated without further preamble. As Legolas seemed to be indifferent to her game-playing, she had decided to dispense with it entirely.

“I think Legolas was completely done with…” the dwarf began.

“Gimli,” Legolas said sharply then added with a less intense note, “why don’t you ride ahead on the path? I’ll catch up with you in a few moments.”

Gimli gave his friend an appraising look, but Legolas merely answered with a twitch of an elegant eyebrow.

Unconvinced, but trusting the elf knew his own mind, the Lord of Aglarond grunted in a surly manner then urged his sturdy pony forward past the elfmaiden.

“Namárië, arwenamin,” he stressed in perfectly accented elvish. “Don’t keep him long. I have a feeling his father is waiting for him at home.”

She made him no answer, but watched as he leisurely made his way down the path.

Patiently, Legolas waited for Eruwestiel to return to the situation at hand.

When she did, he could see that her serene demeanor was merely a façade and that she was quite nervous. Yet, he remained unmoved.

Wetting her lips anxiously, she said in a rush, “Will you sit with me a moment?”

He considered refusing, but finally he nodded once and swiftly dismounted. Ever the gracious elflord, Legolas held Eruwestiel’s stirrup and lent her a hand as she also alit from her mount.

There was a fallen log close by and the elfmaiden made her way unerringly towards it. Her reluctant companion followed somewhat slowly, uncertain what the elleth might do or say.

In a swirl of burnished skirts Eruwestiel claimed a seat on the deadened wood and motioned for him to join her. “Will you sit?” she invited.

“Say your peace, arwenamin,” was his only answer.

Her brows creased unhappily and she held out an insistent hand to him, “Please? I promise to behave…”

Legolas did not exactly trust her to “behave,” yet he ventured closer and squatted before her to meet her gaze evenly. “Better?” he asked.

It would have to do, and she knew it. Taking a deep breath, she finally plunged forward, “I admit that I do owe some sort of apology for last night. I was forward, Your Highness. It’s not like me, but I was desperate. I’m sorry if I offended you, but I’m not sorry I tried to keep you in Imladris. You could still come back…”

“I cannot come back to Imladris, Eruwestiel,” Legolas replied evenly. “I must…”

“Yes, yes… take the ship… I know…” she finished impatiently.

“Look forward, not behind,” he completed his own thought. “I have made my plans… plans that were set in motion long before I set out for Rivendell, just as you have made the decision to stay.”

“What if mine was the wrong decision?” the elleth asked uneasily.

“The decision has been made – right or wrong -- you must abide by it, arwenamin.”

Desperately she took hold of his tunic and pulled him close to bury her head on his chest, “But I am so bored by them all, Legolas! There is no one who holds a candle to you. Am I to live out my days alone?”

Relenting, he patted her on the shoulder and allowed her to relax against him a moment. “You make too much of me, Eruwestiel,” he murmured. “In fact, you barely know me. There are plenty of worthier elflords from which to choose residing within your arm’s reach, I promise you.”

“But I know all of them. What is there to learn in the intervening years? Look at Celeborn and Galadriel…”

He sighed heavily. That the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood were in no hurry to reunite after so many years apart was just as distressing to him. “We do not know what motivates their separation, Eruwestiel. It is not our place to second guess their relationship.”

“I suppose…” she whispered, moving her hand across his broad suede-clad chest without thinking. Vaguely she heard and felt something like paper crinkle under her palm and she was suddenly seized by jealous anger. “What is this?” she ripped out a folded packet of vellum from beneath his tunic. “You’ve been lying to me! There is someone in the Undying Lands waiting for you!”

Coldly he responded, “I beg your pardon, but I have not lied to you. Give me back what is mine, arwenamin.”

On the verge of tearing the letter into pieces, Eruwestiel saw the address on the front said, “Uncle Frodo Baggins,” in a pretty, childish script.

“Oh!” Immediately, she handed it back to Legolas. “I’m sorry… I didn’t know…” she stammered.

Accepting the letter, the Prince of Mirkwood stood. “I’m afraid I have no more time for you now, Lady Eruwestiel. I must be on my way. I wish you good fortune. Namárië…”

“Wait!” she scrambled to her feet. “It was a mistake. I am sorry, Legolas! Please don’t leave angry…”

He stopped in his tracks and told her frankly, “I am not angry. I am disappointed. Disappointed that the daughter of such a fine elflord, an elleth who has had every advantage, has squandered the possibility of love with any number of good elves with haughtiness and indifference. Perhaps you have found no interesting elflord at home because you have not offered the same of yourself. Cultivate goodness, grace and compassion, Eruwestiel, and I promise you that you will have better luck.” Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to cry in front of him. He softened a little as he added, “I know these are hard words. I am not perfect either. For my part, I forgive your jealousy and misunderstanding if you will forgive my frankness.”

Eruwestiel could not trust herself to speak. Instead, she slowly made her way back to her mare and made haste to mount before the elf prince could help her. Without another look back at Legolas, she spurred her horse back down the path towards Rivendell.

With sad regret to have hurt her feelings, Legolas leapt into his own saddle and started in the opposite direction to catch up with Gimli. After a few long moments in preoccupied contemplation, he realized the letter was still in his hand.

Perusing the girlish handwriting the elf prince had to smile at the promise he made a certain young hobbit lass so many years before to deliver the effusive missive to her “Uncle” Frodo when he reached the Undying Lands, no matter how long it took for him to get there.

Elanor Gamgee asked her elven friend every time she met up with him over the years if he still had the letter, which of course Legolas did. She had refused offers of updating the funny, little note as she grew up, insisting even when she was an old matron of Westmarch that the feelings she wrote then still held true. Legolas was looking forward to be able to deliver Elli’s tribute to her hero-uncle at last.

Still, first he had to bid farewell to his father…

-end of Chapter Five-


Chapter 7 - Chapter Six

Gimli hummed tunelessly to himself as he let his pony slowly meander the path on his own. He gave up worrying about Legolas alone with the elfmaiden and allowed his mind to wander freely. He was considering where to go once he and his friend parted. Back to the caves of Aglarond? Or visit his old home in Erebor, perhaps?

While his mind was drifting, he paid little attention to the road, so the dwarf was startled when his mount suddenly stopped short.

“Greetings, Master Dwarf! I am delighted to see you once again! And where is your elf-friend?”

Radagast the Brown stood in the middle of the path looking up steadily at Gimli with a benevolent smile wreathing his weathered face.

“Humph!” the dwarf thought, but managed not to voice it. “Greetings to you, sir,” he grumbled civilly, at least for a dwarf. “Legolas is coming. He will be as surprised to see you, I think, as I am.”

“Not so surprising, perhaps. I have dwelt on the edge of the Mirkwood. I hoped you might let me travel along with you for a bit?” He gestured carelessly ahead of them on the path.

Gimli shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he answered and spurred his pony.

Radagast fell in beside him, walking the path with long, easy strides. “This is excellent!” he exclaimed after a moment. “You and I can have a bit of a private chat…”

Rolling his eyes, Gimli schooled his expression to placidness before he looked down at the wizard. “And what have we to chat about privately, Master Bird-tamer?”

He gave the dwarf an unreadable smile and said, “You think I am a simpleton. Yet, I am not so empty-headed as I appear.” His companion had the grace to look slightly abashed and he continued, “For instance, I can tell you that before you stopped here, you were deep in thought about what you will do once Legolas has left Middle-earth."

His answer left Gimli unimpressed. “That is no revelation, wizard or no, Radagast. Of what else might I be thinking?”

The wizard gave him a sly glance upward. “Perhaps you were wondering that should you go home to Erebor, might you find your cousin Lîm Bloodplate still living? And further… you were hoping, if that was the case, was her mountain ale was still as heady as you remembered it?”

Giving the brown-clad being at his side an arched eyebrow in response, Gimli suddenly burst out laughing. “Indeed, sir, that thought did cross my mind! Lîm brewed a good ale – made from nutty barley and hops scented with the barest hint of honey and mountain heather. Even Legolas has admitted he enjoyed it!” Again he looked down at the wizard, “I don’t suppose you’re of a mind to tell me what has become of her?”

Slowly, Radagast replied, “It has been some years since I visited Erebor myself. Nor have my feathered friends brought me news from the mountains. The fate of Lîm Bloodplate is unknown to me, my friend.”

Just as the dwarf expelled a heavy sigh, Legolas joined the pair at a brisk trot. Reining in his mount, the elf quietly fell in beside his friend on the opposite side as the wizard on the path.

“Have you made your peace with Lady Eruwestiel?” asked Gimli gruffly.

“As well as may be,” the elf prince answered, but offered no more than that.

Sagely, Radagast commented, “She will come to thank you for it in the end, Your Highness. Think no more on her. We should enjoy ourselves while we can before we come to the Misty Mountains.”

Legolas and Gimli took their companion’s advice and reveled in the pure joy of riding with the sun on their faces and the breeze at their backs. Their impending separation dropped away and it was as if all the intervening years were still ahead rather than behind them.

-end of Chapter Six-


Chapter 8 - Chapter Seven

The elfmaid sat on a pile of discarded sailcloth facing inexorably towards the mouth of the gulf that led to the greater sea beyond.

A casual observer might have thought her a piece of Elven statuary, which was plentiful enough in the ancient and abandoned city. She was still and silent, her eyes closed to the fiery sunlight that was beginning to wash down the walls as the day came to a close. Her alabaster skin also took on a brief glow to show that she was more than mere stone.

“Mídhenaer, it is time to come in to dinner,” spoke the elderly Sandy Downholm who currently stood as Círdan’s steward. It had been a solemn honor to have been asked to serve the famed shipwright thus, and the old hobbit took his duties very seriously. That included clucking after Círdan’s strong-minded daughter.

“Yes, yes, Sandy,” she sighed without a trace of impatience in her voice, though she may have felt some. “I just wanted to keep watch ‘till the sun set completely.”

Feeling bolder than usual, Sandy asked, “Why do you not just go with him next time?”

Her graceful head swung around to meet his gaze fairly. “What would be the difference, my friend?” she replied sadly. “I would be just as eagerly looking for his return from the other shore.” The hobbit nodded, ceding her point, and Mídhenaer continued, “In any case, I have promised to stay with him until all those who have made the decision to sail into the West have done so.”

“I fear you have a long wait, my lady.”

Her smile was sweetly wistful, “I have the time, Sandy.”

“Well, come in to dinner now, my dear. The sun is well and truly set, and a message came for you a little while ago by way of my wife’s nephew.”

At word of the waiting message, Mídhenaer joined the hobbit eagerly to return to the castle.


Dinner was laid out in the airy dining room just off a wide veranda facing the Sea. Mídhenaer did not need for Mistress Downholm to cook for her as regular meals were of little importance to her. Yet, it pleased the couple for the elfmaid to eat with them and so she joined Sandy and his wife for the evening meals.

A roll of vellum was set next to her plate, and looked rather grimy and travel-worn. Mídhenaer smiled to herself, thinking of how Radagast must have sent forth the message to get it to her. It would wait until the niceties of dinner were through before she could read it. She imagined the note would be brief enough.

Brief enough it was. Sandy was perhaps even more eager than Mídhenaer to know what it contained, as she and Círdan had not filled the Downholms in on her plans. He urged her the moment they had finished eating to read the missive, and the elfmaid found she was a little reluctant to do so with them watching. They would be lonely without her, she knew, but there was no help for it.

“It says,” she read, “’Plans progressing. Begin your journey by and by…’”

“You’re going on a journey, my lady?” asked Beryl Downholm with shock. Mídhenaer had never left the castle environs as long as they had known her. “Are you leaving for the Undying Lands then?”

The elfmaid smiled affectionately at the hobbit woman, “No, Beryl. It is not yet my time. But I am going to help another make his journey. I’ll be sailing down the coast then up the river into Gondor and Ithilien. I’ll most likely be gone several months, but never fear… I’ll come back to you both.”

Ever practical, Sandy nodded at the note and asked, “Is that all it says there, my lady?”

Looking at it again, Mídhenaer noticed there was a postscript. “Well, this is odd…” she murmured when she read the mysterious phrase below Radagast’s mark. “He adds, ‘Make it big enough for two.’”

“Is that unexpected?” asked the hobbit.

“I was only expecting one to sail,” she replied. “Radagast must have found another elf who is ready to leave Middle-earth.”

Beryl bravely sniffed back the tears that threatened, “When will you leave, my lady?”

“Not for a few days, mistress.” She grinned, “Will that give you enough time to bake all that you think I need to take with me on the journey?”

Laughing heartily at the elfmaid’s teasing, the steward replied, “Not nearly enough, girl!”

She ignored her husband and lamented to Mídhenaer, “I still haven’t mastered your lembas recipe, my lady!” and then burst into tears at last.

Reaching across the table, Mídhenaer clasped the hobbit woman’s hand and told her gently, “Then we will make it together, my dear. Don’t fret. It may seem like a long time to be away, but I promise, I have no plans to desert you. I’ll return before you hardly realize I’ve been gone!”

“Small chance of that, my lady!” answered Beryl once she wiped her eyes with her husband’s proffered handkerchief. “We will make the best of it without you here, but you will be missed!”


A week later, Mídhenaer set sail in her small but sturdy craft for the southern climes of Middle-earth. Her good-byes were heartfelt but brief. And if Sandy and Beryl were stoic as she pushed off from the pier, the elfmaid knew they watched her for a long time with tears in their eyes.

She would miss them dearly, but she found that once she felt the wind take up her sail, her mind was already away on the sea. It had been too long since she had felt the roll of waves beneath her. It would be hard to come back to the castle, even with her friends waiting impatiently for her return.


-end of Chapter Seven-


Chapter 9 - Chapter Eight

The captain of the marina in Pelargir watched from the deck of his own sturdy vessel as the elfwoman tied up her small craft in an available slip. They saw few elves these days and certainly none in any ships or watercraft. The only reason for them to be on the water was to leave Middle-earth for the Undying Lands, and they sailed from the Grey Havens as they always had since before his ancestors had settled in this port of call.

She would have caused a stir on the wharf in any case, elf or no. Women did not frequent the docks so freely unless they were harlots, and her carriage spoke of high breeding and nobility. She walked down the pier like a queen of Gondor, and indeed looked like the description of Arwen Undómiel in all the great tales. With her long curtain of hair as black as night and a tall form as graceful as a willow tree, this she-elf could be Elessar’s queen stepped out of the romantic ballads recounting their long love story. But the King was dead, his son Eldarion now ruling Mankind, and his once-immortal love now gone and presumed dead in the Golden Wood of the Elves.

Nor was the queen known to be an expert sailor, or have even boarded a ship of any kind. Captain Cardolan thought perhaps she could be one of Arwen’s children, for the royal couple had produced several daughters. However, this elven daughter was an independent and solitary sort, and all the princesses of Gondor had been married off to proper husbands. None would be found sailing into Pelargir alone. No, this was a singular woman and he would soon be able to satisfy his curiosity. She was headed his way.

“Are you captain of this port, sir?” she called over to him. Her voice was soft and melodic, but it carried well across the dock to him. “I would have a word with you, if you can spare the time.”

“As much as you please, my lady,” he answered. “I was just about to go below for some supper. Would you care to join me?”

She seemed to think about it for a long moment, but finally responded, “Perhaps another time. I have many details to see to and would like to get to as many of them this evening as I can. I was hoping you might be able to point me in the right direction?”

Amiably, Cardolan said, “I will be happy to do what I can. Will you come aboard?” He extended a hand to steady her over the side of the boat. He doubted she needed the help, but she was gracious enough to except it nonetheless.

Guiding her to a seat on deck, the captain then sent for some wine and sat down across from her. He thought he had heard and seen it all, but her brisk introduction took him by surprise.

“I am Mídhenaer, daughter of Círdan the Shipwright, and I am on an errand for my father while he is across the Sea. I need to book passage up the river to Ithilien, as well as lease a slip for my own craft while I am away.”

“Nothing is easier, my lady. I myself am getting ready to take a ship up the river to the capital. From there we can find you transportation the rest of the way. My rates for the slip are reasonable as well.”

She nodded in acknowledgment then added, “I also need to speak with a reputable tradesman dealing in lumber. Do you know of such a man?”

“Not off the top of my head, my lady, but I have no doubt we can find one for you,” he responded. “Is there anything else?”

“Just a place to lodge until your ship sails.”

“You may lodge here on the ship, my lady,” Cardolan said. He thought she might be anxious, thinking herself the only female on board, so he added, “I will send my wife to you to help you settle in if you like.”

“That is kind of you, Captain. You seem to be the answer to all my needs all rolled into one.”

He grinned, honored to be able to serve the great Círdan’s daughter, “Then I hope you will reconsider my offer to sup with us?”

“Sir, now I have no reason to refuse.”


Captain Cardolan wasted no time in introducing his young wife to the venerable elfwoman. Mistress Petronilla was a pretty blonde with a winsome and lithe frame. She had married the captain only the year before, a second wife to him, and had not yet given him a child. Her hope was that spending time with him more frequently aboard The Ainulindalë instead of at their home in town might produce that first offspring they both desperately craved.

In the meantime Petronilla was thrilled to be able to act as Mídhenaer’s companion on the cruise up the Anduin. Eager to please bother her husband and their guest, the captain’s amiable wife provided a generous supper that the crew would have envied if they had been aboard. However, as the ship still had several days before departing, Cardolan gave them leave to go into the town to enjoy themselves while they had the opportunity. While on duty he did not tolerate drunkenness or insubordination – better the crew get it out of their system now!

Consequently, they were largely alone on board; so when the sound of footsteps echoed above their heads on deck Cardolan stiffened in his seat.

Gravely, he pushed his chair back from the table and said, “I’ll go on deck to see who’s prowling around up there. You two stay here…”

Petronilla gave Mídhenaer a brief anxious look, but then forced a smile when her companion patted her hand sympathetically.

“I’m certain it’s nothing, mistress,” Mídhenaer assured her calmly.

Please call me ‘Petra,’ my lady,” she replied, trying to ignore what might be happening above deck.

The elfwoman nodded and replied, “Nor must you be so formal with me, Petra.”

“That is kind of you, my lady,” she answered, “but my husband would not favor me doing so…”

With a quirk of a smile and a raised eyebrow, Mídhenaer stated, “What is private between us is of no concern to Captain Cardolan. If you are to be my companion on this trip then we should be friends, should we not?”

Petronilla smiled gratefully, “Indeed, Mídhenaer! Can you tell me more of your errand to Ithilien?”

As she began to explain, the captain returned below deck accompanied by another man – a tradesman by the looks of him. He seemed to be middle-aged and well-fed, so a prosperous tradesman at that.

“My lady,” introduced Cardolan, “this is Barach, the lumber merchant. I am given to understand that he is considered the best at his trade in Pelargir.”

“Captain, you are indeed a marvel,” Mídhenaer smiled warmly. “So far you have been able to accommodate all my needs. I look forward to setting sail with you.”

Very pleased by her compliment, Cardolan finished the introductions and then stepped back to allow Mídhenaer to conduct her business with the man. Drawing his wife aside as well, he sent her off to make sure their passenger’s cabin was all prepared while he cleared the table of their supper.

By the time he joined Petronilla in their own quarters a little later, the lumber merchant was on his way back to town with a generous order for hardwood and hardware to follow the elven woman up the Anduin to Ithilien.

This would be a most profitable trip!

-end of Chapter Eight-
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