Dawnstar and Friend

Eleanor’s POV
A little while after the revelation of his ancestry, we take Aragorn with us when we return to Eriador. Well, actually Miriel and I do, Ginny having rode on ahead to forewarn of the return of the Chief of the Dunedan.
We went straight to the town in which we had our house, because that was the one with his house in. He had inherited his father’s house in the centre of the town and, when forewarned, the women of the town had gone in cleared it up for him, correctly assuming he would have little understanding of house cleaning himself. There was also the fact that it would be nice for him to see the house all neat and tidy when he first arrived.
It was strange seeing him go into that house and exploring, when for the last 18 years or so it had been sealed, awaiting his return.
Much to our amusement, when he started to join the patrols, he joined our patrol group, one which also contained Halbarad now. Halbarad had improved somewhat and now realised that anything he could do we could do better.
What was even more amusing was the way the patrol group went on the exact same tours, in the exact same order as we had gone on when we had joined. Aragorn had less to learn though.
Aragorn also had the added pressure of going to all the villages in the Angle, because he was their lord. He found the instant respect of the people rather unnerving, though we girls and Halbarad tried to smooth it over for him as much as possible.
It was in about the third or fourth village we went to that we actually met Gilraen again, this being her family’s village.
The reunion was very touching and his introduction to family he had never known he had was very moving.
This was also the first point he found out that Halbarad was his cousin, his mother’s sister’s son to be precise. We had sort of known, but never really registered this as we had not got to know either Gilraen’s family or Athabad.
***
We stayed with Aragorn all through the next few years, only returning to Rivendell once or twice, knowing that he needed us more than our families did. Elrond, Erestor, and co thankfully understood this, though I think my darling nephew was still feeling a little pissy about Aragorn falling in love with Arwen.
Soon the twins also joined in and life got more interesting because, though they were much more serious outside of the safety of Rivendell, they were still very fun.
They were even more welcome than they had been before, as they were not only exceptionally distant blood relatives of the royal line, but now the foster brothers of the Chieftain of the Dunedan.
After a while though, we felt Aragorn was properly settled in and went back to our own explorations for a while.
We went back south, to properly explore the lands of Rohan and Gondor, with our amazing skill at being in the right place at the right time, making sure we were able to see Mount Doom burst into flames, though admittedly from the safest distance possible. Ginny and I knew too much about pyroclastic surges (or whatever they are called) and had studied the eruption of Vesuvius in enough detail to not want to be all that near to the fire.
This time we didn’t bother hiding our identity; our pets ensured we had no trouble.
In Rohan we have to meet the new King Thengel, who gives us leave to travel in Rohan in return for some stories about the elves and an explanation of how we got the giant cats. I quite liked the man and I could see why Aragorn would choose to serve him in a few years time.
When he found out that he actually had two princesses and the ward of one of the highest ranking elves around he was quite shocked to say the least. We had originally been planning to keep it secret, but the man somehow had manoeuvred us into a position where we almost had to tell him.
The Rohirrim fussed over our horses hugely, elfin horses being absolutely amazing.
Ginny and I were both rather amused at meeting the very young Théoden, who was totally taken by our horses.
***
It was late 2954 when we migrated down to Dol Amroth.
For once, by complete coincidence, we managed to bump into the pregnant wife of the Prince of Dol Amroth.
We soon made good friends with the family and decided to stay in the city a while.
Ginny, who by now was a very proficient healer, was chosen to be the midwife. One huge advantage to the family was what they didn’t know was what Ginny knew from our world, us not having told them about who we were and definitely not about the place Ginny and I grew up.
Hell, even my biology from my A-levels told me more about child birth than was known here. I knew what hormones were and could name the main ones involved in a pregnancy.
The baby was a boy, the third child and first son of the family, and he was named Imrahil. It was probably the only event we managed to insinuate ourselves into by accident.
At the end of the year, we left to finally return to Rivendell.
We took a scenic route though, once again stopping in Lorien.
We hadn’t seen Galadriel and Celeborn for a while and the reunion was fun.
We actually stayed there for much longer than intended, the lovely effects of Lorien making us forget time, something we had not done in a very long time.
While we were there we discovered that the elves of Lorien like to throw a party more often than the elves of the other nations.
This pleased Ginny and I as that meant we got lots more pretty dresses.
Our cats, on the other hand, managed to scare the life out of many peaceful Lorien elves. They, at first accidently, would climb trees and find nice branches to rest on, which would result in elves climbing trees to suddenly find huge animals lying there, purring contentedly.
After a while, I got the impression that our cats had begun to go look for elves on purpose because they found the reactions amusing.
It did not take long for our cats to become nearly as infamous as Sauron.
Ginny insisted the Murrlin was lovely and would never hurt a fly and lots of other cat-lover goo that I’m not sure even she could take seriously.
On second thoughts, I am pretty sure that she was serious. She really could be disgustingly sickly about her cat at times; she definitely had been about Merlin when we were at university. At least she no longer went on about having favourite lap status; Murrlin was a little too large for that really.
Eventually we left, thanking the heavens for us not getting hangovers. There had been a leaving party that somehow Rumil, Orophin, and Haldir (all of whom I am sure had had too much to drink) had managed to get a fair amount of alcohol down each of us. Thankfully, the alcohol in Lorien was not as strong as either in Mirkwood or Rivendell.
We only hurried when crossing the mountains, we were not really sure that they were safe.
We had what could be called skirmishes, but they were not really, our cats got to do most of the fighting after all.
When we reached the border, we met the guards who seemed rather tense.
We then sort of dawdled through the woodland round Rivendell.
We decided that we could also afford to stop for a while when we found a large, beautifully hot spring. We spent hours splashing in the fresh water.
We washed ourselves all over and helped wash each others’ hair.
To the edge of the pool is a large rock, which is perfect to lie on for massages and so we give each other a massage.
It occurs to us that this is very much like how we were being cleansed before a change to come; it was almost like something new is coming. Jokingly we speculate about what it could be.
On a whim, we decide to change into the light silk dresses we carry with us and put on our jewellery, and then we all put on makeup.
In true Rivendell style, the dresses only just covered us up. My one is made of just about opaque silk-gossamer and is white. It is quite simple in its design, though leaves a huge amount of skin bare.
The neck I think is technically a cowl neck, but the fabric of the neckline doesn’t even see my shoulders. There are ribbons that come up around my neck and criss-crosses my back linking to the fabric which drapes down the lower section of my back.
The points at which the ribbons cross there are sapphire clips. There are sleeves, bell-shaped ones which flow down my arms from the point at which the fold of the neckline of the dress cross my arms, above my elbows. The back stops a little above my behind. The ribbons are the only things holding it up.
There is only simple embroidery in gold and dark blue with a certain amount of ribbon-work. Though it is more revealing than I would normally choose to wear, it is really beautiful.
Miriel’s dress is almost as revealing as mine though of a different design. It is also white with aquamarine and gold embroidery.
She looks very much the faeries of the legends of our world with the floaty dress that leaves large amounts of skin and her gold hair flowing down her back.
We looked at the way we were now dressed and sit down to weave flower garlands to put in our hair. After this we really look like the nymphs and faeries of legends at home.
Strangely enough, the earthy look brings out the very slight red tint to my hair and we decide all we need little wings.
We also brushed off and cleaned up our horses.
On an impish whim, we hide our belongings somewhere safe before mounting up side-saddle and riding to Rivendell. We only join the path when we were almost at the palace, bypassing the town.
This meant that there was no warning to the people of Rivendell that we had returned and so we, of course, did not receive any warning either.
When we got to the main courtyard there was a group of riders there, all dark haired except two at the front of the group; that is they were closest to the palace. All the riders have forest-green cloaks on, though the two blondes clearly had better quality cloaks on.
When we ride through the group, who part to let us through, Elrond, Erestor, and Glorfindel, who are on the steps saying something to the blondes, catch sight of us and go pale. Then the pair of blondes turn to us.
Miriel was, amazing enough, the first to find her voice. Personally, I was sitting there like a gaping fish.
She smiled sheepishly, biting her lip before speaking. When she spoke her voice was falsely bright,
“Suilaid, Ada.”
Ginny’s POV
I don’t ride with Aragorn, Miriel, and Ellie when we set off for the Angle, instead I ride ahead in order to prepare everyone for their chief’s arrival.
This makes for very interesting preparations in the days before we leave. The chief among them being who would actually ride ahead; Elrond and Glorfindel didn’t want Ellie to go, Ada didn’t want me to go, and absolutely none of the men wanted Miriel to go seeing that, if anything unfortunate did happen, they would be the ones explaining to Thanduil exactly how and why his daughter was injured or killed – no one exactly relished that prospect.
In the end, we drew straws. Ada tried desperately to overturn the decision, but backed down when he realised that no one else was fighting his cause.
Even so, he’s still in quite foul mood when I’m preparing to leave.
He only relents when it’s gently pointed out to him that I’m actually on my horse, am starting to move off, and that this might be the last time he ever sees me. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone run so fast in all my life.
When I get to our town, the women immediately open up the house and begin to give it a thorough clean.
Halbarad has really improved since I last saw him; he’s longer quite so cocky when I’m around. In fact none of the men are. I’ve managed to perfect the hard stare that my mother was so fond of – I can silence the men with one look.
Of course, if I really want to punish them, I call Murrlin who (like all cats) makes a beeline for the person who ignores her most, lays her head in his lap, and generally falls asleep. I then leave and the poor ranger has to stay there until I decide he’s had enough punishment and call Murrlin off.
Owing to the fact that Aragorn is still relatively young and that he has very recently been told of his true ancestry and that he’s buoyed up by his romance with Arwen, his ego is rather inflated. He tells everyone that he doesn’t need any help, but this doesn’t stop him from joining our own patrol despite the fact that other patrols are down on numbers.
Halbarad also joins our patrol – I grin when I hear this as it seems that Halbarad has finally learnt that travelling with us girls will keep him far safer than if he joined another patrol. I think I may have found a good needling tactic for the future when Halbarad becomes the big, tough ranger that Tolkien portrays him as.
***
We remain with the Dunedan most over the next three years, only returning to Rivendell once or twice when we felt we really needed another of those fabulous massages.
Eventually, however, we leave Aragorn with the Dunedan and go back south towards Rohan and Gondor.
On the way, we ‘mysteriously’ find ourselves in the right place at the right time to watch the eruption of Mount Doom – ‘right place’ being as far away as possible, but with still a spectacular view; ‘right time’ being arrive day of and leave day after.
Surprisingly, Miriel doesn’t say anything, whether that’s because she’s so gobsmacked by the event or, by now, she has given up asking about our fortuitous arrivals, I don’t know.
King Thengel of Rohan is more than pleased to let us have a free rein to move about his lands; he and all his people are completely bowled over by our elfin horses and giant cats.
His little boy, Théoden, insists on being allowed to ride each one (horses and cats). I remember a scene from ‘The Two Towers’ when Éowyn asks Aragorn about his age, she was surprised then and I think she would be even more surprised if I ever tell her that I had to sit behind and hold her uncle because he was too small for my horse.
During our trip through Gondor, we travel through the same village where we had previously kicked the butts of a group of drunken men. This time around, however, absolutely no one bothered us – I think it must have been the presence of three very large cats padding along beside us rather than any memory of the incident that kept people at a respectful distance – a very respectful distance.
***
Later on in the year, instead of heading straight back to Rivendell, we decide to visit to visit Dol Amroth. This was for absolutely no reason whatsoever, just that we felt like taking a little detour.
This genuine coincidence results in me being midwife for the birth of the Prince Imrahil.
Maybe we should stop trying to orchestrate excuses for us being present at all these major events as we seem to be able to do it purely accidently anyway.
At the beginning of December, we leave our new friends to return to Rivendell.
We intend to go back in order to celebrate Christmas again, but we are distracted by the beauty of Lorien.
Well, actually, we stop because our cats are entranced by all the trees and immediately clamber up them to sleep leopard-like in the branches.
This causes a very entertaining incident when we are met by the border guards who almost jump out of their skins when three very large cats jump down from the trees and place themselves protectively between us and said guards.
During our stay in Lorien, the cats get up to even more mischief, although, I admit I may have orchestrated one or two of the incidents. I’ve discovered that the punishment Murrlin and I served up in the Angle works just as well here.
By the end of our stay, Celeborn is almost ripping his hair out when, for the millionth time, he cannot send out a full patrol because Murrlin is refusing to budge. Galadriel, on the other hand, simply smiles and doesn’t say anything – that woman is a marvel.
Eventually, Miriel begins pining for the company of the twins so we pack up and leave for Rivendell.
As we reach the border of Rivendell, the guards come out to meet us. They seem to relax when they see who we are, but, as an Empath, I’m more sensitive to others’ feelings and I can definitely sense some underlying tension.
The guards also look like they have something to tell us, but don’t really know how to express it.
As we ride on, I look back; the guards are standing together, heads bent in deep conversation.
I don’t say anything, but, as we wend our way through the woods, I get a feeling that something’s well, not exactly wrong, just different.
I brighten up when we find a concealed pool. It’s down quite a steep slope so we leave the cats guarding the horses and, flinging off our tunics and leggings, run and spring into the deliciously warm water with joyous shouts.
We then spend ages dive-bombing the water as well as holding a proper diving contest. God only knows what any males would have said if they’d happened on us at that moment. Actually, they probably wouldn’t have said anything being too busy gawping at us.
After we’ve expended some pent-up energy, we lie back in the water and float along lazily. We then discover a smooth, round rock that makes for a perfect massage bed, so we break into the bottles of massage oil that Galadriel had given us and give each other a massage.
The Lorien oil smells different to the Rivendell oil, earthy instead of fruity... change...
Thinking about this brings to my mind the tension of the guards. I put a voice to my feeling that something’s different,
“Don’t you two feel that something new is about to happen? I mean if you think about it, we do seem to be cleansing ourselves in a similar way to when a change was about to come.”
Ellie and Miriel look at each other, clearly not taking me seriously. I continue,
“I mean it may be nothing, but didn’t you notice how tense the border guards seemed to be?”
Another exchange of looks.
“I suppose they did seem a little different,” answers Miriel eventually. “You two haven’t ‘mysteriously’ come back for something specific, have you?”
Ellie and I shake our heads,
“When have we ever done anything like that?” says Ellie in a mock offended tone.
Miriel decides not to answer that, but adds that we should really be getting dressed.
My dress is made of a light silk-taffeta and is a rich reddish shade of amber. The low, loose neckline falls to just above my bust and is embroidered with golden thread with a petite bow in the centre.
The back of the dress forms a low v-shape; the sides are laced together by a long gold ribbon that criss-crosses elegantly down my back.
From under the silken puff-sleeves flow floor-length bell-sleeves, these are made of filmy gossamer and are in the same colour as the dress.
The dresses that the others are wearing are just as low-cut.
We look at each other – standing there in a patch of dappled sunlight with shiny, waist-length hair wearing beautiful floaty dresses reminds us of tales of faeries and nymphs so we make ourselves delicate flower garlands and wear them in place of our circlets.
We decide, now we look like delicate earthen nymphs, that riding up to Rivendell complete with packs and weapons would rather spoil the effect so we find a hollow in a tree and stow away our belongings.
We then mount our horses; wanting to be ultra ladylike, we ride them side-saddle.
Upon entering the courtyard, we find our way blocked by a wall of dark haired riders.
There is now definite tension in the air.
As the group parts to let us through, we notice that the two riders at the front are blonde as well as wearing far better quality clothes.
Whispers begin to fill the air; subconsciously, I sit up straighter and look up the steps at Elrond, Glorfindel, and Ada. When they catch sight of us, all three go pale and Ada makes to step forward, but is held back when Glorfindel lays a hand on his shoulder.
The two blondes turn around.
I gasp and stare dumbstruck at them, Ellie is equally silent and shocked. Surprisingly, it’s Miriel who first finds her voice.
Smiling awkwardly, she opens her mouth, pausing slightly. When she does speak, her voice is falsely bright,
“Suilaid, Ada.”