CHAPTER 37: ELROND’S DAUGHTER

“Please finish your lunch, Eldarion,” Arwen coaxed as her son attempted to get up yet another time from the picnic mat to chase after squirrels. “I know you are excited that your father will be home today, but it may be much later in the afternoon. He will not appear yet no matter how many times you ask the guards.”

Nearly two months after Legolas and his party left for their home in the Greenwood, Faramir and Arwen had found themselves waving farewell to the king of Gondor, who had to journey North to preside over important court proceedings and procure land for a new office of the King’s representative – affairs which would keep Aragorn away for three weeks.

A downcast Eldarion had tried very hard to hide his unhappiness over the absence of his father over the coming weeks, but his disappointment had been obvious nonetheless.

“When you are older, you will be able to ride with the King’s company,” Faramir had said consolingly, and the little prince had put on a brave face every day for three weeks. 

Now, the king was due to return, and no matter how much Eldarion wished to do as his mother told, it was difficult to keep still when he knew his father might ride into the City at any time.

The queen had decided on a picnic lunch in the gardens with Eowyn and her children, so that the prince would have some space to vent off his restlessness. But she was beginning to wonder if it had been a mistake when the little prince could hardly sit still to finish even one sandwich.

“The squirrels need my sandwich more than I do, nana!” he argued, hoping the excuse would work. Eowyn chuckled while the queen kept her composure and her smile.

“Well, in that case, they might want this too,” she said sweetly, placing a blueberry tart next to his plate, “for when they finish the sandwich. They cannot go without dessert now, can they?”

Eldarion looked undecided for a moment, but the sight of his favourite dessert was too tempting, and he proceeded to finish his sandwich, keeping an eye on his tart the entire time. The two ladies and Eowyn’s older daughter suppressed their laughter at the success of Arwen’s ploy.  The children finished their lunch and were allowed to move around more freely, while their mothers looked on with amused faces.

“He misses his father,” Eowyn observed.  

“It is hard for him when Aragorn has to be away, but he has to learn to bear it,” said the Queen.

“As do Floréan and Boromir, when their father has to be absent,” Eowyn agreed, looking at her daughter, who had inherited her father’s gentleness, and her three-year-old son, who had not only been named after Faramir’s departed brother, but who already seemed to resemble him in character as well. “If Lord Elessar returns today as expected, Faramir will leave for Dol Amroth in a day or two.”

“Ah, that is the fate of our young ones, Eowyn,” Arwen remarked, smiling ruefully. “But they will learn patience that way. Eldarion, in particular, will have to become accustomed to the life of a ruler, for such responsibility will be his one day.”

“And speaking of responsibility, I had better keep a closer eye on Boromir – he seems to think that squirrels are toys to be hugged to death!” she exclaimed laughingly, and rose quickly to join the children.

“Well, everyone seems in a merry mood!” came a voice behind Arwen, and she turned to see the Steward walking towards her. He waved to his wife and children and accepted a goblet of berry juice from the Queen before sitting down.  

“How is Eldarion?” Faramir enquired. “His tutors have been hard-pressed to keep his attention for two mornings, I have been told – since Elessar’s rider brought the message of his return.”

“I am not surprised,” Arwen said, laughing. “He has much to learn, but he is still a child who finds it hard to quell his excitement. It is even harder when Legolas is absent as well, and he has been away from the City for close to three months now. Eldarion has missed them both sorely.”

“He is not the only one who misses Legolas,” Faramir mused. “I think Elessar had hoped for the elf prince’s company on his journey.”

“I am certain of that, Faramir,” Arwen concurred. “I think those two make each other feel younger when they travel together!”

“I would not mind such a companion then,” Faramir remarked with a grin. “Yet, even without Legolas, this journey north should have been good for Elessar, for he had seemed too restless the months before that.” He paused in recollection. “He had not been distracted from his duties as king and governor, but I knew he was brooding over something in his quieter moments. He hid it well from the rest of the City… but I saw it.”

The amused smile on Arwen’s face turned into a wistful one. “Indeed, he has been troubled, Faramir; you are an observant Steward and a good friend.”

The Queen and Steward kept a comfortable silence for a while, watching Eowyn and the children and enjoying their laughter. Several guards stood a distance away, discreetly watchful over the whole group.

“Has he not spoken to you about it?” Arwen enquired suddenly of the Steward, startling him a little.

“About the matter troubling him? No, my Lady,” Faramir replied, shaking his head, “but I would be much relieved if I could learn of it, and if there is something that requires my attention…”

“This is something neither of us is able to resolve for him, Faramir,” Arwen said, and she told the Steward about Aragorn’s qualms over the possible loss of his dearest friend, which she had learnt of the day after the elves had left. Faramir listened attentively, feeling surprised and not a little saddened himself at the news.

“There is yet no certainty that Legolas will sail for the West,” Arwen stated when she had finished. “But Aragorn is trying to prepare himself for that event.”

“It does not seem that he is succeeding very well,” Faramir remarked.

“No, Faramir, and to speak truly – I fear for him,” said the Queen. “I was grieved myself when I heard of it, for Legolas has been a much loved friend, as close as family, but it will be all the more bitter for Aragorn. I do not know what he would do – or how long it will take him to accept it should Legolas really leave now.”  

Faramir kept a thoughtful silence as he pondered the elf’s possible departure from Middle-earth. His own friendship with Legolas had grown as well during the past decade, and the elf’s absence would be missed by many. But his greatest concern was for his king, for he knew the closeness between him and his elven companion.

For a long time, he had wondered how two different races of beings could have developed such a deep commitment to each other – he saw it in his King and Queen, and between Aragorn and Legolas. To this day, he could not fully fathom the reasons for that unbreakable bond between Man and Elf.

Arwen saw the pensive, questioning look on his face and waited, watching Eowyn and the children walk towards the little pond where the young ones began to feed the ducks instead of squirrels.

When the Steward remained silent, she prompted: “Is there something you wish to ask me, Faramir?”

The Steward started at her query, and grinned sheepishly. “Your eyes see much, My Lady,” he remarked. “And they see truly, for I do indeed muse over a matter about which I have little understanding.”

At Arwen’s prompting, he voiced his thoughts.

“I know now King Thranduil’s puzzlement, for the same question is in my mind,” he said. “I do not fully understand this friendship between Elessar and Legolas, just as I find it hard to understand how Legolas and Gimli could be such good companions.”

Arwen smiled her slow, wise smile. “Perhaps if we had been through what they did, Faramir, we would understand,” she replied. “Those companions have looked death in the eye many times together, in the direst of situations, and counted on one another to evade its stroke. There is a bond of trust and devotion between them that others find hard to fathom.”

“Yes… I too have been through much conflict, and I can feel such trust in those men who have fought by my side,” Faramir said slowly. “But… it is harder to understand why Elessar continues to seek the company of an elf in this world of Men.” He fidgeted a little, fully aware that the queen herself was of the race of elves, though he would not mention it.

“Ah, I see the true source of your query,” Arwen smiled in understanding, making Faramir cast his eyes down in embarrassment.

“Forgive me, my Lady, if my inquiry is out of place…”

“Worry not, Faramir, it is a fair question,” Arwen assured him. “I only hope I can answer it to your satisfaction.”

She paused to compose her thoughts before continuing, finding a rapt listener in the Steward.

“I have not the wisdom of the Istari, Faramir, but I come from the world of elves, and I have now lived long enough in the dominion of Men to see both sides with my own eyes.

“Everyone knows that Aragorn grew from infancy to manhood among elves, yet, sadly, few can appreciate how powerfully his mind is moved by elven thought, and how his own blood pulses with all that is loved by elves and natural to them. It should not be any wonder that he yearns for elven companionship even now. He misses it, needs it, and will always do so.  

“He seeks the passion of elven emotions: their easy laughter and quick anger, how they can show both quiet gentleness and fierce hate. He appreciates their devotion towards preserving all that is naturally beautiful, and admires their own unconscious grace and fairness.” Arwen made the statement without any arrogance, fully aware of her own origins.

“He respects their pride and is amused by their obstinacy. He is in awe of how they will unyieldingly uphold an oath to secrecy – yet fail miserably at weaving untruths to protect that same secret.”

Faramir listened to her words in fascination as elves were portrayed for him with greater insight than he had ever been shown before.

“Estel sees much of this in Legolas, so it is no surprise to me that he seeks his company,” the queen continued. “He would find it in many other elves as well, but there is one other thing Legolas offers that other elves would not: the willingness to spend time with an adan and understand his human ways – behavior that is as strange to them even as elven manners may surprise you.

“Believe me, Faramir, not many elves possess that kind of patience and open acceptance of the Edain as Legolas does,” she said with a smile. “And for that, I will ever be grateful to him.”

“But you are an elf too, my Lady,” Faramir said, “you possess the same traits.”

“Aye, Faramir, my acceptance of Estel as one of the race of Man is obviously beyond question – but remember that Estel and Legolas have been together through many intense moments of which I was not a part; their bond is something different from what Estel and I share,” she said honestly. “Also, I do not seek the same…” she paused and knitted her brows as she sought a suitable phrase, smiling as she did so: “…the same wild freedom that those two are used to.”

Her choice of words brought a small smile to the lips of the Steward as well; he understood what it was that Aragorn and Legolas enjoyed: the delirious joy of being in open spaces and the thrill of facing the challenges of the wilds.

“Aragorn is an elf among Men, and a Man among elves. Besides me, Legolas is the only one who understands that and provides a way for Estel to savor it without discomfort or guilt. On his part, Legolas has found in Estel one of the Edain who both accepts and shares his elven tendencies.

“Those two, Faramir, are different beings, as Firstborn were meant to be different from the Followers – yet they share much. They see no need to explain anything to each other, nor do they apologise for the ways in which they are different. They know and accept who the other is, and that is enough for them. Do you now wonder at the bond between them?”

The Steward shook his head slowly.

“No longer, my Lady,” Faramir smiled, “and I must say that the bond between Legolas and Gimli puzzles me less now as well. I feel privileged to witness friendships that I doubt the world will see again, for the time of the elves is fast ending, and the fair folk will all sail, leaving only Men to hold dominion, and dwarves and hobbits to live in scattered places and quiet solitude. For Elessar’s sake, I hope Legolas will not sail yet.”

“That too is my fervent hope, Faramir, more than I can say,” Arwen agreed sadly. “But it is his decision – and his right.”

Faramir nodded in solemn agreement. “I thank you for helping me see much, my Lady, not least your own wisdom and insight, which should itself bear testimony to the marvelous good that comes of a close union between people of different races. Not for naught were you born the daughter of Lord Elrond, my Lady, and Gondor is indeed gifted with your presence,” he finished.

Standing and bowing deeply to his Queen, he walked over to his wife and spoke briefly to her and the children before returning in the direction of the Citadel, leaving an  elleth in quiet, wistful reflection.

Arwen sighed. Having had to articulate the relationship between Aragorn and Legolas had made her face a painful truth that she had not wished to dwell on before this moment. The children’s laughter and the peace of the gardens soothed her little as she pondered the consequences of Legolas’ departure.

If Legolas left Middle-earth now, she too would miss him greatly, for he was her closest link to her elven past. Her brothers came too seldom from Imladris to visit, and no other elves would reside here but Legolas and his Greenwood kin. Gone would be her haven in Ithilien, and the only place that Eldarion could go to learn elven ways. Gone would be the songs and grace of the Eldar from Gondor, and the White City would be robbed of the beauty of the fair folk if Legolas came never again to visit. What a loss it would be to a world from which the elves would surely depart, but she had not thought it might be this soon…

Besides Aragorn, Legolas was her one anchor in the world of Men, and suddenly, his impending departure filled her with fear and immense sorrow – she who had given up her immortality and who drew strength from the company of the elves of the Greenwood for the years she had left in Middle-earth. Forgetting where she was, she let tears escape her eyes and flow unchecked down her fair cheeks as she contemplated life without the elf prince’s presence in and near the Gondorian city.

“My Lady?” a voice called gently, startling the queen from her sorrowed thoughts.

Arwen turned to see an elf standing a respectful distance away. For a fleeting moment, she thought it might have been the very elf she had been thinking about, for he too had long golden hair – but it was Lanwil. She quickly dabbed the tears from her cheeks with a dainty kerchief and smiled at the elf.

“Mae govannen, Lanwil,” she greeted him, rising gracefully from where she sat. “When did you return from the Greenwood? Is the prince with you?” She looked expectantly behind him, hoping to see the familiar face.

“Nay, my Lady, he is not here,” Lanwil replied. “It is in fact on his account that I have come, for I bring a message from him for Lord Elessar.”

Arwen stared at him, not knowing whether she wished to hear what he had to say.