2939 TA   Rivendell

Midwinter's Night.  A time of reflection in Imladris.  Gilraen sighed as she stood at her balcony overlooking the Loudwater, feeling the breeze blow through her and around her trying its best to salve her raw emotions. This was always a difficult time for her.  A time when those dwelling here in Rivendell reflected throughout the night upon those whom they loved and lost.  Midwinter's night was the ending of the year.  The feast and solemnity of Rin-gell observed until morning when the day began to lengthen again.  She did not want to dwell on the past, even now five years on.  So much had been lost; so much she still could not speak of.  She had been sanguine, almost at peace with her life here in this verdant ravine that had given them shelter from the world until she had felt Lord Elrond's pain of loss.  She saw another soul in pain and she instinctively reached out.  It had been the anniversary of when his beloved Celebrian had taken ship for the West, leaving to be made whole again after tragedy had struck.  They shared a communion of souls, sharing the pain of loss and having loved.  Ever since, she could not seem to dampen her memories; they flowed unbidden spilling mostly into her dreams.  The solemnity of Rin-gell was going to stir even more emotions, bringing them to the fore. She sighed again but further mulling over such melancholy musings was disrupted by the eight-year old whirlwind that was her son.  Estel ran up to her at the balcony and began pulling one of her hands, "Nana!  Ada said to come, the celebration is about to start!"  

"That is, if you are wanting to join..." Elrond appeared behind Estel, forest green robes gently swishing, then stilling as he looked at Gilraen with a knowing compassion in his pale blue eyes.  

Gilraen's first reaction was to bristle at his reference to her reticence, an intrusion into her private emotions, which swirled and then calmed as she reminded herself that Elrond meant the suggestion to be kind and not any sort of challenge.  She sighed and with a furrowed brow and reluctant nod, she agreed to come.  By then however Estel had grown quiet realising that his Nana's "Troubles" were growing upon her again.  He hugged her and then looked up imploringly, "It is going to be fun, Nana..."

Gilraen once again realizing that she had let too much show on her face quickly rallied, "Of course I will be there. How could I miss an occasion such as this."  Estel nodded happily and detangled himself from the many layers of his mother attire and then ran down the hall excitedly, as only an eight-year boy could.  Gilraen looked at Elrond and a melancholy smile played across her face.  She thought of the life she left behind in Fornost, a life she tried very hard not to remember, because to remember was experience the pain of loss yet again.  She could not go back, however much her heart wanted to.  The only road was forward.  So she forgot or at least tried to.  Until days like today.  She sighed, smoothed her wine red skirts as she gathered up her emotions to place them away once again.  She straightened her shoulders and looked at Elrond. "Let us go," she said with clear resolve in her voice.  

Elrond marveled at the strength, grace and courage of this Dunedain woman, "My Lady," He bowed low and then offered his arm to escort Gilraen to the Hall where the solemnity was to begin. 

~*~*~*~*~

Ever since the settling of Imladris in the middle years of the Second Age, the solemnity of the Winter Solstice had been celebrated.  It was the time for reflection, a time to remember and a time to move forward.  The dying of the light and the rebirth of the new day was celebrated overnight.

Many of Elves were assembled when Elrond and Gilraen arrived at the Hall of Fire where the celebration began.  There would be a feast to begin the celebration, music and song and story.  Those who felt moved to speak of the year that had passed did so in whatever manner they chose, be it song, poem, music. Some in years past had even played a scene of a happening from the past year either comical or tragic.  It was a time to remember the glad and the sad.  A special mulled wine was prepared and sweet meats and tarts were baked only for this night.

Gilraen sat by Elrond on one of the many large velvet pillows that were scattered around the hall as she listened to Elmiran sing of a particular archery contest in which he had bested both Elladan and Elrohir, a fine and unusual accomplishment.  She smiled as she heard Elladan who was sitting on a green velvet pillow, as ever next to Elrohir on the other side of Lord Elrond, call out after the song was finished, “Aye!  That was worthy of commemoration, because it was the only time it has happened!”  Elmiran smiled a knowing smile and gave a little mock bow at the end before he left the middle of the circle.  Elladan laughed merrily and clapped his hands in mirth.

Smiling, Gilraen looked down at Estel who was busy eating a mince pie and sitting in front of her on his own smaller purple velvet pillow.  She reflected on just how elven he had become in the five years since they came to Rivendell.  His long dark hair was braided and tied back like his brothers.  He spoken Sindarin flawlessly as was only natural because he was so young when they arrived.  She stroked his smooth dark hair and took a sip of the mulled wine savoring the spiced taste of the warm liquid as it slid down her throat.  Estel looked up and saw the smile spread across his naneth’s face.   It made him very happy.  He broke off a piece of his mince pie, “Nana? Did you want a bit?”

“Hannon le, Estel.  I would. But only just a bit.  The rest you eat.”  Gilraen took a small portion from her son’s now somewhat sticky hands and popped it in her mouth, “Mmmm!”  She said. “Good tart!” with her mouth full. Estel laughed, “You’re not supposed to talk with your mouth full, you always say!” 

Swallowing down the tart followed by another swallow of wine, Gilraen declared “Details! Details!” and hugged her son from behind kissing the top of his head.

Elrond sat watching them and it gladdened his heart to see them laughing together. He looked at Estel.  He had fostered the Heirs of Isildur since the fall of Arthedain.  It was a responsibility he took with the utmost seriousness, but Estel was different.   He had come to Imladris so young, so scared and in so much pain.  Elrond’s heart opened to the forlorn little soul unlike any fosterling before him.  He became his son.  He loved him.  His eyes shifted to Gilraen.  Never had he met a Dunedain woman with more strength, more resilience and grace.  She had changed almost into a different person since the time that he had known her in Fornost, a happy wife and mother full of life and love.  He reflected on how much she had lost and what she was sacrificing for the hope of her people.  He knew he was partially responsible for what changed her.  He denied her even the comfort of being able to speak to her son of his past, of his father.  It was done to keep the absolute secrecy of the Heirs’ existence but he knew what it cost Gilraen and how it had changed her.  It was good to see her smile and laughing. 

Night had fallen completely and Rivendell, beyond the light of candles, was dark.  It was time for the solemnity to begin.  Elrond lead the procession from the Hall to the Large Falls where the ceremony of candles would take place.  As each elf left the hall they retrieved a candle and lit it from the main fire and walked to the falls. Song soared amid the roar of water and the lush greenness of the riverbank as the inhabitants of Rivendell crossed the bridge to the other bank where the candles would be set afloat.  Glorfindel began the solemnity in the time-honored way, Elrond stood by the riverbank holding the candle to be floated set amid a small bed of flowers. Glorifindel lit that candle from the one he held and set it afloat whispering “Rin-gell”.  Gilraen standing behind him pondered the words “Rin-gell” they were Sindarin words meaning remembrance and joy.  To remember the elves who were gone, to remember the joy they gave and remember the joy one had in knowing them in this life.  She watched as Glorfindel had set the one candle afloat and retained his own candle; floating symbolized the loved ones’ spirits being set free and the candle held conveyed the memories we retain of the loved one.  Glorifindel switched places with Elrond and Gliraen watched as the Lord of Imladris performed the same rite, repeating the same words. It struck her suddenly as to how many these two had to remember, so long were their lives. Each place, as was tradition, was taken up by the next candlebearer. All performed both portions of the ritual.  There was comfort in shared joy and remembrance. It was her turn.  She looked into Elrond’s eyes as she lit the floating candle from her own.  In his pale blue eyes she saw compassion, communion and admiration.  She smiled and then bent to set her floral candle afloat, whispering “Rin-gell, my love” she closed her eyes.  Through her closed eyes she could sense somehow the light was different.  She opened her eyes and that it was almost dawn but not quite though she was still at the riverbank.  She stood up and before her eyes was something she could not believe.  She closed them again, and a voice that spoke straight into her heart said gently, “Why do you close your eyes?”

“Because they cannot be believed.  I do not understand so I close them.”

“Do you believe this?” She felt a gentle kiss upon her lips.  Her heart told her to believe but her mind rebelled.

“This cannot be,” Gilraen stated through closed eyes.

“But it is.  Please open your eyes.  I have longed to see them again.”

Gilraen obeyed her heart and opened them.  Before her stood her beloved Arathorn, his grey eyes as gentle as when they had first met long ago on the shores of Lake Evendim.  “Am I dead?" She paused,"Who will take care of Aragorn?”

“Shh-shh!  You are not dead,” Arathorn said gently as he held her two hands in front of her. Hands that retained the graceful beauty that he had first noticed pushing a shuttle across a loom with swift surety in her father's winter hall.  He kissed them both softly.

“Then where am I, that I am here with you?” Gilraen asked, drinking in the vision of her beloved, denied her these long years.

“You are strong, My dear love.  Stronger than anyone I have ever known, but you are heart weary and Nienna has taken mercy and wishes to give you hope for your life’s journey.”

“You say I am strong, but I do not feel it.”  Gilraen looked at her beloved, touched his face and felt the soft bristles on his cheek.  “I miss you so much.  Are you even real?  How is this happening?  Am I dreaming? I don’t understand any of this.  And by the way you could have at least shaved and combed your hair.”

Arathorn laughed and then teared up a little, “That is my spirited wench!  I come to visit you from beyond the veil and you tell me to shave!” He picked up her up and twirled her around and kissed her soundly.  Gilraen felt her old spirit returning, “Silly man!” she laughed, “Put me down and answer me some questions.” She playfully slapped his arm. 

Arathorn set her down and sobered, “I don’t know if I have any answers.  The Valar wish to give you hope and we have been given this time and place between the worlds to talk and be with each other.”

“So I must go back.”  Gilraen stated sorrowfully, so much of her wanted to stay here with her beloved where no one could hurt them more.  But another part of her thought of Aragorn, now Estel.  He needed her so much. 

“Yes.” Arathorn’s eyes told of how he too, wished they could stay here in the place between worlds and just live.  “But we have been given a modicum of time to share, before…”

There was no need to finish that sentence.  Gilraen looked at her beloved and put reason and reality aside for these moments.  “We will take what we have been given, and thank the Valar for it.”

Arathorn smiled, his love for this woman truly knowing no boundaries.  It was the one great gift he had been given, to have had her in his life.

Time was spent.  Time enough to last a lifetime.  Or at least it would have to be.  Arathorn looked into Gilraen’s hazel eyes and stroked her honey brown hair.  “Time to go,” he said with a bottomless depth of regret in his grey eyes.

“Yes.  I know.” Somehow she knew it, too. 

“But I have been allowed to give you something.” He opened his hand and hovering just above was a tiny white star, beautiful, clean and bright.

“What is it?” Gilraen whispered, enrapted by its beauty.

“A piece of my soul, so I can always be with you…”

Gilraen looked into Arathorn’s grey eyes and saw herself surrounded by the gentle light being emitted by the tiny star and nodded yes.

The tiny star floated and became part of her, warming her heart.  She smiled as Arathorn shimmered and then faded, a stream of starlight leading to a star above her head.  She heard Arathorn’s voice in her mind, “I am that star, in your heart and above you, always watching. If you are lonely or doubtful, look up and there I will be.  Rin-gell." With a kiss upon her senses he was gone.  

Closed eyes told her the light was once again different.  She opened them and it was nighttime and her candle was just starting to float away.  She stood and saw Elrond looking at her with curiosity writ across his brow.  She smiled and took his place as the next candle giver.  The solemnity ritual continued into the night.  Those who had already placed their candles lined the bank and waited, hearing Rin-gell as a mantra of remembrance and joy.  Singing as they were moved to or simply to pause and reflect.

Gilraen sat with a sleeping Estel on her lap.  She hummed gently to herself and stroked his hair, musing on what she had experienced.  She was still unsure whether it was indeed real.

Dawn broke across the water and the hypnotic spell of nighttime and remembrance slowly faded.  Gilraen felt refreshed and more at peace than she had felt in a very long time; a very different reaction than she had at other Rin-gell solemnities. One of the reasons she had always looked to the Solstice celebration ritual with troubling expectation was she had always felt so drained after the ritual.  That was not the case this morn.  She felt alive for the first time in years.  

At the breakfast at dawn Elrond sat beside her at table in the Great Hall, and handed her a cup of breakfast wine.  The unasked question hung in the air between them but he did not pry; he was always very respectful of her privacy.  Gilraen turned to him and without preamble stated in a low but clear voice tinged with wonder, “I saw him last night.”

Elrond froze, and then turned his head to stare into Gilraen’s eyes, “You have been visited…” he finished with awe in his voice.

“I don’t know what happened.  I was setting my candle afloat, whispered “Rin-gell” and closed my eyes.  The next moment it was approaching dawn and I was looking into Arathorn’s eyes.  We spoke.  We touched.  Was it real?” she said gazing out through the open archway to the Falls, the question hanging in the air.

“As real as we are sitting here, I do not know as I have never been to the place between worlds outside of Time.”  Gilraen looked at Elrond.  He nodded slowly, “But have I heard tell of such a place?" he continued, "Aye, I have.  And to those few who have experienced it, it felt very real to them.”  Seeing Gilraen’s confused look, he added, “We Elves are the first children of Iluvatar but even we do not know or understand all the mysteries of the Valar.  If it was real to you then it was real.”

Gilraen looked across to Estel, who was laughing with his brothers, talking about goodness only knew.  She had to be strong for him.  She remembered Arathorn’s words.  Nienna had shown her mercy and wanted ease her path through life’s journey.  That she was indeed a strong woman.  That she had been gifted a piece of Arathorn’s soul to carry with her through life.  The time they had spent together.  There were many things in this world she did not understand but accepted.  This could be one of them.  She wrapped these memories around her like a warm blanket.  She would choose to believe in these words and memories and step forward in life. That is what this night, the Winter Solstice, the Rin-gell, celebrated.  Remembering loved ones and then stepping forward into a new day.  She looked at Elrond, “It was real.”  Elrond looked at her and deep within her hazel eyes he saw a light within that had not been there previously.  “Yes, My lady. I believe it was.” 

~*~*~*~*~*~