At the Mercy of a Burning Coal

Disclaimer; See chapter one...or two...or three...

Personally, Lathwen was shocked. The tavern was...abandoned. There were charred scorch marks along the walls and the ceiling inside, and the furniture was either turned over and broken lying on the floor, or missing altogether. Her footsteps echoed, bouncing off walls. The fireplace held nothing but ashes, which were easily blown away by the wind.

The other Outlaw Maidens were waiting just at the doorway, along with Glorfindel and Nestaron. Lathwen whirled around and stalked toward the door, her eyes gleaming with anger. The others silently parted, making way for her. Lathwen strode toward the side of the tavern which was shaded by the trees' shadows.

She halted and crossed her arms, her voice rough as she spoke one single word, "Why?" A figure moved and stepped out of the shadows, frightening everyone. A crowd had now gathered, watching and waiting suspiciously. Eothain answered softly, "I am sorry Lathwen. I thought you should know. Your uncle has passed."

Lathwen's eyes widened. A wave of emotions crashed down upon her soul, but she quickly mastered herself and asked, "Why not send word by letter?"

"There is something else I needed to show you."

Lathwen's eyes twitched, the only indication that she understood the unspoken message. "Very well." She said heavily, and turned to the crowd. She scanned the motley group and said, "This tavern...it is abandoned I suppose?"

A few in the mob nodded. Lathwen uncrossed her arms and said, "Then do with it what you will." She turned to walk back to her girls and the two other elves, but a hand on her sleeve stopped her.

Lathwen turned slowly, startled...amazed that someone had the bravery to speak with her...much less touch her! Not that she minded, but it was a surprise that any of these wary people would do such a thing. She saw a short somewhat chubby man standing before her, his quick eyes holding fear. Lathwen saw that he had curly hair and pointed ears...she looked at his feet. They were covered in hair also, and somewhat large. She smiled at the man, whom she realized now was a hobbit.

"Yes?" She said kindly. The hobbit stuttered a bit before getting the message out, "M..my...my lady? I was...um...it was agreed that I may use this tavern for my own purposes. I to, wish to own a tavern, but you'll excuse me if I say that you're uncle's tavern was a bit...er...rough." Lathwen knew what the hobbit was trying to ask and nodded, "Of course you may use it! No need to ask permission..."

The hobbit smiled with evident relief. "And my lady? We...I...I was wondering if you could give it a name? I'm afraid I'm no good at all with those things...and after all, it does rightfully belong to you..."

Lathwen smiled faintly, her eyes far away from the present time. The first thing she thought of was Rosethorn. She sighed and said, "How about the Prancing Pony?" The hobbit grinned, "Perfect my lady..." Lathwen smiled back at him and turned to go, but then hesitated and added, "Please, call me Lathwen..."

"Butterburr. Barliman Butterburr."

Lathwen nodded, "Call me Lathwen."

The leader of the Outlaw Maidens cast an inquiring look at the ranger behind her, then walked over to her girls and the two elves. Eothain quickly joined them and said, "My...I thought you'd be upset." Lathwen looked grim and said, "Of course I'm upset. I had hoped I'd get the chance to spit on his grave. But then...duty calls."

Eothain looked shocked, and was no doubt about to scold her when Glorfindel jumped in and said in elvish, "I'll tell later." Eothain nodded vaguely and said, "Er...yes. Lathwen, I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty to look about your parents house while you were away on your various escapades..."

Lathwen blinked, "Fine. And?"

"Come with me."

***
Lathwen and the others rode with Eothain in the lead. Lathwen felt a twinge as she recognized where they were headed. Though she hadn't walked this way for a half decade, she knew it immediately. She winced against Glorfindel as a small cabin came into view. Glorfindel felt her shift and tightened his grip on her waist for a moment before releasing her so she could dismount.

Lathwen swallowed as she walked with Eothain up to this little house. The others stayed behind, uncertain if they should go or stay. Eothain pushed the wooden door open, and with a creak it swung inside to reveal an empty house.

Literally, empty. The furniture was gone, the floor covered with a centimeter of dust, the cabinets empty...the two roomed house was completely desolate. Eothain strode to the middle of the floor and knelt down. Lathwen knelt beside him, giving him a questioning look.

The ranger pried one of the floorboards up to reveal a pure white piece of parchment tied with a frayed green ribbon. Eothain gently lifted it out while saying, "Your mother knew about the curse Lathwen. But she told no one, not even your father. I knew she wouldn't leave without saying goodbye."

Lathwen's mouth opened and shut a few times before she took the parchment and with trembling hands untied the ribbon. The parchment was smooth and pure, untarnished by dirt, and unravaged by time. The writing inside was hastily scribbled and wobbly, as if the person had an unsteady hand.

My dearest child,

If ever you wander upon this letter, know that your father and I loved you with all of our heart and soul, for by the time you read this, we will be gone. We did not choose this path Lathwen, and yet, it was inevitable. You are, no doubt, wondering how and why your father and I passed away. Under normal circumstances, I would write it down, but circumstances have prevented it from being safe to do so.
I wish with all my heart that I could save you the trouble and danger of finding it out for yourself. I will do my best to make it easier for you by saying that you should look to Imladris, where my relations dwell, and perhaps even the rangers. If you have found this out already, please, forgive us for not telling you sooner. Forgive us for the hardship we have put you through.
Lathwen, even as I pen this I feel as if the fires of Melkor are consuming me. Your father, because of his mortal blood, is fading more swiftly than I. I can hear his shouts and screams as he fights with the specters of the curse. Death is upon us both. I am beginning to see the faint outlines of that which I fear most. I will lay a spell upon this so it will last for as long as it has to until you find it.
It will be all I can do to put this in a safe place, in the hope that you and you alone will find this.

You Lathwen, were our greatest pride and the thing that we loved most, in this world, and outside of it. Know that we do not have any regrets. Please, do not fault yourself for what has happened. As I said before, our fate was inevitable. I beg you, do not become hard and cold because of this knowledge. Do not build a barrier around your emotions as those of human blood most often do after a loss. Always remember to love Lathwen. Always.

We love you with all of our hearts my sweet, sweet, child,
Your mother, Lireal



The parchment crumbled to dust in her hands the moment she finished reading it. Eothain was no longer in the room, and no one else was either. Lathwen sat back on her heels and thought about what her mother had said. Tears pricked her eyes and her throat swelled with the effort to hold them back. She finally gave in to a storm of tears, sobbing quietly, her forehead resting on her knees.

About ten minutes passed before Lathwen could collect herself. She raised her head and wipped away the moisture. She cleared her throat and grimaced at its sandpapery feeling. The door behind her creaked open again, and then shut. Lathwen didn't need to look to see who it was.

"Glorfindel?" She asked. The golden haired elf quietly sat down beside her, his presence the balm for her distress.

/Always remember to love Lathwen.../

"Are you better now?"

/Always/

Lathwen looked the elf in the eyes and said quietly, "Yes."

***
Lathwen sat against the huge oak tree near the lake where Glorfindel had gotten pushed in. After returning to Imladris, Lathwen had become less stern, and more open to strangers and friends alike. Everyone noticed a change in her...she was more relaxed and patient.

Lathwen watched the sunset with evident peace and pleasure. It was her favorite time of day. The wind blew gently, tugging at her dress and hair. Lathwen jumped in surprise as a twig snapped behind her. She looked behind herself and smiled slightly. Glorfindel stood there, leaning against the tree. He had obviously snapped the twig to alert her of his presence. How kind of him.

"The wind changes...fall comes. Time for the Outlaw Maidens to return to Tanglewood." The golden warrior drawled. He loped to her side and sat down with an easy, willowy grace. Lathwen plucked a few strands of grass and twirled them between her fingers, "Nothing is for certain," She said lightly, "Fate has a way of changing your plans."

Glorfindel eyed her and said sardonically, "Ah...the rich irony." Lathwen smiled and they fell silent.

Then Lathwen spoke up, "I've been meaning to tell you something for a while now. I've already told my girls, but no one else."

Glorfindel grinned, "So I've made the list? I'm honored."

"Glorfindel! I'm serious!"

"So am I."

Lathwen huffed and rolled her eyes. She sighed suddenly and said, "I've made my choice. Just after we left Bree I made my choice. Nothing can reverse it now." Glorfindel looked confused, but the leader of the Outlaw Maidens went on, "I chose to honor my elven blood."'

Glorfindel's mouth dropped open and his eyebrows skyrocketed to his hairline. "YOU DID WHAT?!" Lathwen frowned at him, "What? It was my choice, and I made it. What's so bad about that? After all, Lord Elrond chose to honor his elven blood and I don't see you shouting at him!"

Glorfindel answered, "That's because I finished doing that many many years ago! Lathwen, do you realize what it means to be immortal?"

Lathwen eyed him and said in a steady tone, "Yes." Glorfindel's intake of breath came as a hiss.

"I considered all of my options and the outcomes of each of them before I chose Glorfindel. I made no hasty decision. Just as you chose to live, I chose this."

Glorfindel stared at her for a good thirty seconds before he said weakly, "But Lily..."

"Is satisfied with mortal life. I *will* however, ask the Valar to make an exception whenever I choose to sail...if she lives till then. I've reviewed my various plans with her, and she agrees. Though she highly doubts she'll live until that time. Glorfindel, you must understand that I...we...understand what could, and what will happen. We are satisfied with my choice. Please...don't ridicule me for it."

Glorfindel shook his head soundlessly and the two fell into a comfortable silence.

They sat until the sun was almost gone, and then Lathwen said timidly, "There is also another thing I must ask." Glorfindel turned to look at her inquiringly.

"Are you...upset with my decision?"

Glorfindel waited a while before he answered, "Upset because you will have to suffer along with the elves. Not upset with your decision."

"Will you stay upset?"

Glorfindel looked at her in amusement, "Is this an interrogation?" He shook his head and said, "No. I will not stay upset for long." He looked at her and shifted so he could sit closer to her.

"There is something I must ask *you* now."

Lathwen looked back at him, waiting.

"I know in the past you have denied it. I know you say that I am not true...my love is not true. A few months ago I asked you...and you weren't sure..." The golden warrior faltered, but Lathwen smiled. She decided to make it easier on him.

"It is true," She said softly, "That I did not believe it when you first told me. Countless others saw what I did not." She searched for his hand and entwined their fingers. A ray of hope glimmered in the warrior's eyes.

"But I understand now. I know my answer."

"The answer is?"

"Yes. I love you."

Glorfindel grinned and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tender embrace. Bright blue eyes sought stormy gray. They met, and saw a mutual affection.

"I love you Lathwen."

"I know."

Glorfindel cupped her face in his hands and pressed his warm lips gently against hers. Lathwen stiffened in shock, but then melted into his embrace and returned the kiss.

***

Farewell we call to hearth and hall!
Though wind may blow and rain may fall,
We must away ere break of day
Far over wood and mountain tall.

To Rivendell where elves yet dwell
In glades beneath the misty fell,
Through moor and waste we ride in haste,
And whither then we cannot tell.

With foes ahead, behind us dread,
Beneath the sky shall be our bed,
Until at last our toil be passed,
Our journey done, our errand sped.

We must away! We must away! We ride before the break of day!
________________________________________________Fin_______________________________________________________________

(THERE IS AN EPILOGUE COMING SOON...LIKE, TODAY PROBABLY)