Status: complete

Thalion Faer, Doltha Hún

Departures

“Vanya?”

A whisper stirred me from my sleep, pulling me forth from my dreams and casting me into the mercy of my senses. I sat up slowly, eyes picking up on a silhouette at my door. I attempted to focus my eyes, but there was far too little light for me to make out who was calling to me. They entered, upon seeing me awake, and I smiled sleepily at the approaching Arwen.

“Is it time to leave already?” I asked.

“No,” She replied, sitting on the edge of my bed. “It is not yet dawn.”

“Is something the matter?” I questioned, growing more awake with each passing second. She smiled in response, shaking her head. Taking my hand in hers, she released a small sigh. Not one carrying any particular emotion, merely an action.

“There is something I must ask of you.” She announced. I nodded, scooting closer to her and giving my full attention. “The time of the Elves is ending, Vanya. My race is leaving middle earth, boarding the ships and leaving for the Grey Havens.”

“You do not mean to say…” I began, but realized in her silence, in the sadness hiding in the corners of her smile, that I was right. She was leaving. “Arwen, surely you cannot leave!” I cried out, my features warping into despair. She choked out a laugh, a few lone tears sliding down her cheeks.

“It is my destiny, Vanya. After today we shall not see one another again, until you join me in Mithlond.” She announced sadly. Tears began to spring from my eyes and I pulled her towards me in an embrace. I did not want her to leave me, leave this world. I cared for her too much, knowing if she left I would have none to recollect our memories with. My mind would not suffice.

“Is there nothing I can do to dissuade you?” I choked out. She nodded slowly, wiping the tears from my face.

“It is not by choice I leave you, but by need. Just as I need you to carry out a task for me.”

“Anything.” I said sternly.

“Aragorn…You must look after him in my stead. From Valinor I cannot see him, cannot sense him, cannot dream him.” She drifted off, eyes turning out towards the window before coming back to me. “Will you care for him, in my stead?”

“Of course.” I breathed, nodding my head vigorously. Aragorn reminded me of Boromir, Boromir when he was younger; quiet, and sometimes all too serious but good-hearted in nature. Honest. Brave. Strong. I would look out for him; look after him with all of my power.

“I have this for you.” She smiled, stroking her hands over my head and getting up. From the table in the room she took a selection of objects, and brought them to me. The first was a sword, I realized, and I carefully unsheathed it.

“Arwen,” I protested, knowing this was the sword she had had for many, many years.

“Take it. I will no longer have a use for it.” She smiled, and then handed me the second item. It was clothing, a dress and set of pants designed for traveling. “At first it seems too long to be good for wandering the world, but the material is light and the cut aids in movement. I assure you, it is much more useful than what you have worn thus far.” She teased.

“Arwen, I do not wish you to leave.” I said quietly. She kissed my forehead and wrapped her arms around me.

“I will not forget you, Vanya.”

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My pack was full of things that I would need; clothing, nonperishable food, and odd things I’d collected over the years. I was wearing the clothing Arwen had given me, my twin swords strung across my back, and the sword she had given me tied at my waist. The boots upon my feet were new, specifically designed to remain comfortable over the many days I would be wearing them.

A knock came at my door, and I announced that the door was open. Lord Elrond smiled at me as he entered. I slipped my pack on and turned to face him. I smiled sadly at him, taking steady breaths as I thought about what lay ahead of me.

“Are you ready to depart, Vanya?” He asked.

“Lord Elrond, are you leaving as well?” I questioned quietly. He sighed, walking over to me and resting his hands on my arms.

“No, Vanya, I am staying in Rivendell.” He promised, tilting my head up to look at him. “You will see her again, one day.”

Out of me came a smile that part of me questioned, part of me believed. It was a sad smile, one of acceptance. All the protesting in the world would not sway Arwen’s decision. It was what was best for her; she belonged with the others of her kin in Valinor. Yet this knowledge did not put to rest the tugging at my heart, the unhappiness forming in the shallows of me. It was a future I could not change, and therefore one I would come to accept.

“I should do well to get Feredir if I do not wish to be left behind.” I said lightly to Lord Elrond. He nodded once, holding the door open for me as I exited the room. Some of the Elves had already gotten him prepared for the trip, his coat gleaming and his stomach no doubt full. “Come, my friend.”

We walked through the gleaming halls of Rivendell for the last time, my fingertips trailing nostalgically along the stone walls as if retracing memories planted there. Feredir tugged me in the right direction, tugging me right out of my absent-mindedness. I admired the bond we had; the fact that years spent together could truly produce a wonderful friendship; coexistence in its intended form. Some days I struggled to convince myself he could not read my mind; for there was many a time when he exhibited such abilities.

For I knew that there was a certain magic in all creatures dwelling on middle earth. Something in their souls, their spirits, had an undeniable blessing contained within the nonexistent walls. It was a beautiful thing, one that could not be ignored but that could not always be seen. Like the moon. It existed, but some days the clouds obscured its luminescent glow, its salvation powers—like candlelight from the grey havens.

In the courtyard the Fellowship was ready to depart; anxious to begin our long journey to the black gate and beyond. The journey that would no doubt be so much more than any of us had bargained for, but we would keep to our word. Mordor was our destination, but keeping Frodo alive was our job. And something in my heart told me it would not be easy.

But I was with Feredir, and Boromir and Legolas—my friends. When one is surrounded by those who can comfort you, laugh with you, cry with you, it all becomes less hectic: more manageable. Life becomes worth living, life has purpose. If one has beings which fill their heart and their mind, taking out of them emotions and thought, then one will always have a reason to exist. Otherwise, we are just bodies.

Cold air enveloped my body as my legs dangled over the edge of the wall. It took swift maneuvering of limbs on my part to make it up here, but it was well worth the effort. The moon was out and she brought the stars. By the looks of it, tonight the clouds would be banished from the sky. Last night I had dreamt of my mother, how I imagined she was. And my mind’s concoction of her being was only possible thanks to threads of memories relayed to me by my father in his sleep, in his tears, or in his laughter. She was with him, always.

She is with you too, he would say. In my heart, listening to each beat. I looked at the moonlight dance off of the Andurin River, gentle waves rocking the image back and forth. The night was a time when one could find peace, if you knew where to look; how to feel it in your heart. Inner peace was often something I took for granted; its beauty fading into the shadows of every smile, laugh, and hug.

A rustling noise sounded from below and my eyes darted downwards. Squinting in through the dark, I made out the silhouette of my dearest friend. He was struggling to join me in my hiding spot, and I found his perseverance amusing, charming even. I waited patiently until he joined me on the cool stone wall. He took a few moments to recapture his breath, and I watched as his chest heaved in and out, in and out, in and out.

“I do not understand why you must pick a spot so hidden, Vanya.” He grumbled; it was momentary irritation that would be smote out by the happiness coursing through his body.

“What good would a secret hideout be if it were visible to all?” I teased, the corners of my lips twitching up into a smile. He laughed lightly in response, lifting his hand to cover my eyes. Beneath his hand my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What are you doing?”

“Do you recall what the day is?” He questioned, a smile laced into his voice. And it was contagious, flooding into me and taking control of my muscles.

“My birthday.”

“Hold out your hands.” He commanded. My protests were halted by his hand covering my mouth. I kept my eyes shut, giving in and holding out my hands. Cold metal met my skin, and curiosity began to fill me with each passing second. He retracted his hand from my mouth, leaving me to endure a few more torturous moments of anticipation. “Open.”

My eyelids flew open, and I focused on the necklace cradled in my palms. I gasped in a breath, the beauty and unexpectedness of the gift overwhelming me. It was made of intricately woven metal vines, twisting and turning in a fit of beauty. Encased in the middle was a white gem that resembled the moon that hung in the sky. It felt improper to be holding it; as if I had stolen it. I was not meant to receive such gifts, they were meant for people like Boromir and his kin.

“Boromir, I cannot take this.” I breathed.

“Do you not like it?” He asked with sadness. I raised my eyes to his before responding.

“It is not that I do not like it, I adore it. But this is not a gift that should be bestowed upon a stable girl. This is a gift meant for princesses, for queens.”

“You may be a queen one day.” He said quietly. There was something in his voice that led me to believe he did not simply speak out of encouragement. There was a promise about what he said, as if he would see to it that his words became reality. A blush flooded my cheeks and I looked down, not objecting as he took the necklace from my hands and carefully clasped it around my neck. When he was finished his hand took mine, and the night took our need for speech.


I hadn’t taken the necklace off, not one time. Wandering over to the Fellowship, I took my place between Legolas and Boromir, standing tall and happy and full of hope. Lord Elrond looked at us all, a faint smile on his lips as he surveyed us. Everything had worked out just as he’d liked.

“The Ring-bearer is setting out on the Quest of Mount Doom. On you who travel with him no oath nor bond is laid, to go further than you will.” Elrond announced.

“Do not feel bad if you should miss the comforts of your kingdom then, Boromir.” I teased in a whisper, earning a playful shove in response.

“Farewell. Hold to your purpose. May the blessings of Elves and Men and all free folk go with you.” Elrond added, spreading his arms to give his blessing. I placed my hand on my heart and bowed, performing the usual return gesture. I took in a deep breath and turned to look at Gandalf as he spoke.

“The Fellowship awaits the Ring-bearer.” Frodo slowly turned towards the stone archway that would lead us out of Rivendell. He looked up at the trees longingly, experiencing the same desire to stay in such a beautiful place as I. He then began to advance forward, taking the first few steps on this long journey across the world. I cast a glance back at Arwen, but found her focus to be elsewhere. Following her eyes, I found they landed on Aragorn and I was filled with a sudden sadness. They would be parted for far too long a time, something that neither of them deserved.

“Mordor Gandalf, is it left or right?” I heard Frodo whisper up ahead.

“Left.” Gandalf replied, patting the hobbit’s shoulder reassuringly. I smiled at the innocence he held, but admired the bravery he exhibited at the same time. Such a wonderful little hobbit he was. And I would most definitely stay to my word and keep him safe from harm at all costs. Even my own life.
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clothing,
necklace