Chapter Twenty-five

Citadel

Minas Tirith

Gondor
20 Lothron, Year 29 F.A.

"Tell us a story, Naneth! One that your Ada used to tell you!"

Eldarion paused in the hall at the sound of Glassiel's excited voice. The past few weeks, the girls were constantly begging their mother for a story. It was their way of coping with the absence of their father. He had done the same when he was a child, and their mother, being Elrond's daughter, had a plethora of tales to tell, although she did not tell them in quite in the same manner as his father did.

His mother's ballads at bedtime had swept him away and made him feel as if he were in the famed Hall of Fire in Imladris when she spoke, while his father could take him directly to the place and time of the tale and feel what the characters experienced.

He missed those tales, but at twenty, he was a bit old to ask his mother to tuck him into bed. Yet, it was only afternoon, and the girls were most likely just missing their father. He found his feet wandering down the hall to his sisters' chamber.

"Oh, an ancient story," Merilin's voice chimed in, "from the beginning of the Third Age."

He heard the familiar creak of the rocking chair, which sat before the large fireplace that warmed the room, and the sound of Glassiel clapping her hands with glee at her mother's acquiescence.

Eldarion peeked around the doorframe as Arwen laughed, her grey eyes twinkling with mirth. "Does that mean you think I am ancient, my darlings?"

Glassiel looked at her perplexed. "How old are you, Naneth?"

Eldarion revealed himself to his mother by slipping into the doorway and leaning against the door frame to hear her explanation. It was impolite to ask a lady her age, despite the fact their mother looked young, unless one looked into her eyes. He smirked at her.

"You look like your father when you do that," she told him.

"Eldarion!" both girls squealed. Glassiel lept from where she had sat on her bed and ran to him. He scooped her up in his arms and tickled her as she giggled, then at a look from their mother, deposited his little sister in a heap on her bed.

"No fair!" Glassiel said from under her skirts.

"When did you get back?" Merilin asked, considering herself too old to act so impulsively, he knew, and yet he could see her wishing she could have done the same.

He strode to the other bed and leaned over to kiss Merilin on the forehead. "About an hour ago. I hope father returns soon. I did not realize just how much he has to do every day."

"It is good for you to learn," Arwen told him with what he hoped was a proud smile.

He was doing his best, but he felt far from adequate for the job. He was too young, too inexperienced and, well, too bored with it all. He would rather be doing drills with the soldiers his age, or riding patrol along the great road leading to Ithilien. Instead he was stuck shadowing the Steward and handling his father's duties while the king was in Mirkwood checking on Legolas.

He frowned at the thought and hoped all was well with his father's elven friend. Legolas had been a fixture in his life for as long as he could remember.

"Naneth!" Glassiel straightened herself and reminded their mother, "You were going to tell us how old you are!"

Arwen turned her attention back to the girls, and Eldarion let thoughts of duty fade as he listened to her speak.

"Have I never told you how old I am? Surely you have heard this story many times!"

Glassiel pursed her lips tightly into her thinking face, which Eldarion thought made her look like one of the fish in the garden ponds. "No, you never have — at least I have never heard you say how old you are," Glassiel said, sounding much older than her eight years.

"Are you older than Lord Legolas," thirteen year old Merilin asked, flipping her long hair over one shoulder. Both girls adored their father's good friend, and despite his youthful appearance, thought him to be quite old, for their father teased Legolas often about how ancient the elf was.

Eldarion laughed and sat down on the bed behind Glassiel, pulling her into his lap as he leaned back against the headboard. "Yes, Naneth, tell us," he teased. "Surely you cannot be older than the ancient elf of the Fellowship!"

Merilin slipped from her bed to climb in beside them, cuddling up against his side. He put an arm around her, and the three of them looked expectantly at their mother.

Arwen looked at her children cuddled up on the small bed and smiled. All their children had dark hair. Glassiel and Eldarion with their father's curls, while Merilin's dark hair flowed straight to her waist. Arwen's smile grew as she locked eyes with Eldarion. She knew her son was baiting her. He knew very well how 'ancient' she was.

"I was born not too many years after your uncles, in the year 241 of the Third Age. So, I am more than two thousand eight hundred years old, my children." Arwen laughed inwardly as her girl's eyes grew huge at the thought of their mother being born so long ago.

"If you are that old, then how old is Leg'las? He must be very, very old!" Glassiel asked, blue-grey eyes wide in amazement.

Arwen laughed, amused that her children thought the princeling to be older, when in fact she was Legolas's senior by more than eight centuries. "You will have to ask 'Leg'las' yourself, when he returns from Eryn Lasgalen," she told them, using Glassiel's pet name for the elf. "I am sure your father will return with the 'ancient' elf before long, then you can pester him with your questions."

Glassiel nodded, her dark curls bouncing. "Well…tell us a story that was ancient to you, when you were little. A love story…like Luthien and Beren!"

"No!" Merilin gasped. "Please Naneth, I do not want to hear that story again," Merilin begged. "Ada tells it all the time! And it always makes you so sad…" The dark-haired girl bit her lower lip, and for a moment, a sheen of tears glistened in her grey eyes.

"But I want to hear a good story, and that one is the best!" Glassiel fumed, glaring at her sister. "And it is Ada's favorite! That is why he tells it all the time."

Merilin frowned at her little sister, and Eldarion jumped in as both girls both drew a breath to argue. "Actually…it is only one of Ada's favorite stories. Perhaps, Naneth, you should tell them instead about a mysterious elf maiden." The young man paused for effect, "Tell them the legend of the Olrendis — the Dream Wanderer."

Both girls turned to look at her curiously, and Arwen gave her son a grateful smile. "Very well."

"Olrendis?" Glassiel asked.

"Who is the Dream Wanderer?" Merilin queried. "We have never heard that story. Is it really Ada's favorite?"

Arwen sighed before smiling wistfully. "The tale of Luthien and Beren is your Ada's favorite story from history, but the legend of Olrendis is his favorite fable."

Arwen paused as she remembered herself as a child, tucked up against her two older brothers much as her children were piled in now. "My father told the tale to my brothers and I long years ago when I was only a child. He did not know if it were a true story or just a legend. The details were vague, for it began long ago, soon after the elves first awakened. Legolas told the story to your Adar when he was just a boy in Imladris. Legolas called her Rainiriel, but I have always heard her called Olrendis, for it was said she appeared and vanished, as if she were only a dream. Is this the tale you wish to hear?"

Three heads bobbed in agreement, and Arwen laughed and let the rocking chair slowly begin to rock as she thought for a moment. "Very well…

"Long ago, not long after the elves awakened at Cuivienen, Oromë, the great huntsman of the Belain, found them, and was the first to name them the Eldar. He summoned the elves to come with him to Valinor to protect them from the taint of Melkor."

"Naneth?" Glassiel interrupted. "I thought this was story about a mysterious maiden. This sounds like a history lesson…" She pouted up at Eldarion as if he had forced an extra lesson on her and cheated her out of a story.

"Oh daughter," Arwen told her, "many good tales have their place in history, as does the tale of Luthien and Beren, which you love so much. You do not complain when your Adar includes history in his tales! Now, may I continue?"

Glassiel frowned to herself, but nodded.

"Now, as I was saying, Oromë summoned the elves on behalf of the Belain, but not all the elves heeded the call. Some refused because they were suspicious of the Lords of the West. Others, because they simply did not wish to leave the shores of the land they called home.

"Among the various people of Cuivienen was a young girl, who we shall call Olrendis, for no one knows her true name. Olrendis had a dear friend whom she loved very much. Although they were mere children, they had planned to wed when they came of age, which is not uncommon among my people, but you two do not get such ideas into your heads!" Arwen narrowed her eyes at the girls.

Glassiel giggled, but Merilin made a face. "I do not understand why girls like boys so much," she said. "They are silly and say silly things and often smell funny."

"Do I smell funny?" Eldarion asked with a mock look of indignation.

Merilin sniffed at him, then shook her head. "No, because you have not left the Citadel today. You do when you practice or go to the stable."

Eldarion snorted.

"I like boys," Glassiel added. "They are fun. They climb trees and get to practice with swords and do archery! Why are we not allowed to do those things, Naneth?"

Arwen stared at her daughter in disbelief. "You do get to do those things, child!"

"Not without our maids complaining, or the ladies of the court whispering about us! And we are not allowed to handle swords!" Glassiel complained.

"Why do you want to swing a sword?" Merilin asked. "That is a man's job!"

"Oh good grief." Arwen dropped her head into one hand and looked to her son for help.

Eldarion blinked, then said, "Gondor has many different traditions from the elves, and we are of both worlds. But I suspect when you are old enough, Adar will insist you both train with a sword."

"But I do not want to train with a sword!" Merilin squeaked in protest.

"Nor did I," Arwen stated, "but my brothers insisted upon it and I am glad they did! I can defend myself if need be, even if that is not my chosen path."

"Oh," Merilin said, looking satisfied with the answer.

"When?" Glassiel asked, her eyes wide.

Eldarion shook both girls. "Do you want to talk about future lessons or hear the story?" he asked.

"Story!" both girls chimed.

"Very well! Where was I?" Arwen asked.

"There was a girl who loved a boy and they were going to get married when they grew up," Merilin said in a bored voice.

"Yes, except the boy's family chose to follow Oromë!" Arwen told them.

Glassiel gasped. "Oh no! Did Olrendis's family stay?"

Arwen nodded. "Yes, her family remained by the shores of Cuivienen, while the boy's family followed Oromë, and in her heart, the girl knew she would never again see him, and her heart was broken and she did not think she would ever love another again."

"That is sad," Merilin said. "Did she never find another love?"

"Uh-uh," Eldarion shushed her. "You are getting ahead of Naneth's tale. Let her continue."

"The boy's family was one of the Teleri. Do you remember who they were?" Arwen asked.

Merilin nodded. "There was a lot of them," she said. "So many, they had two kings."

"That is right!" Arwen agreed. "And this boy's family was of the people of Elwë, who was also called…" She paused, giving the girls a chance to help fill in the details of the story.

"Elwë Singollo," Merilin said in a bored voice of one quoting a lesson. "That was his Quenya name, but he was also known as Elu Thingol, which means grey cloak and it was from his name that his people later became known as the Sindar."

Eldarion blinked at his sister. "You actually remembered all that?" he asked.

"You would not let me leave the library until I did, remember?" she snapped at him.

"Yes, but I did not think you would remember it after that day."

Arwen decided she did not want to know why her son had forced lessons upon her eldest daughter.

"Thingol? You mean the one who built Doriath and was the father of Luthien?" Glassiel asked in an excited voice.

Arwen smiled patiently at her daughter's excitement. "Yes, the boy belonged to King Thingol's people and lived in Doriath."

"Who was he, Naneth?" Merilin asked, her ire with Eldarion already faded. She might try to pretend she was not interested in the story, but Arwen could see her daughter was entranced. "Was he related to us?"

"I do not know. I have never heard the tale give the boy's name. That is one reason why the tale is considered a fable, for no one knows exactly who he was. But it is said he was there when Thingol led his people to Beleriand. And although he had never thought to love again, he did just that. He grew up and fell in love with a maid of Doriath, bound himself to her and had a son. They were very happy, although he never forgot the girl who had first stole his heart as a child."

"That makes me want to cry." Merilin sniffed.

Arwen sighed as tears slipped down Merilin's face. Merilin always cried during sad tales, and sometimes Arwen felt her daughter's sensitivity was a bit overdone. Perhaps it was just her age. Arwen had seen some of the same in other girls the same age. But Merilin had quite a dramatic flair at times, which is why Arwen tended to avoid being the one to tell the girls stories. Another reason for Aragorn to return soon; he was needed in his role of storyteller.

Glassiel rolled her eyes and made a face. Eldarion shifted a miffed Glassiel over and pulled his weeping sister into his arms, calming her almost as easily as Aragorn would have done. He winked at his mother, and she shook her head in exasperation. That young man was too much like his father!

"What happened to his first love, Olrendis, the maiden who stayed behind?" Glassiel asked, giving her sister a miffed look then handing her a wadded kerchief from her pocket.

"She remained with her family and became one of the Avari. Now, the Avari became forest dwellers, and in time, some joined with the Nandor in Eriador and in later days became known as the Silvan elves."

This brought a squeal from Glassiel, who clapped her hands in glee. "Like Leg'las! Leg'las is a wood elf!"

Both Arwen and Eldarion laughed at the girl's exuberance over the lord of Ithilien, and even Merilin smiled. Legolas was quite dear to all of them, but Glassiel had claimed him as hers from the time she could entangle a tiny hand in his long golden hair. Her toddler's nickname for him had stuck, though she was the only one allowed to use it in his presence.

And the elven prince returned her feelings, if his indulgence of the girl was any measure of his attachment. It amused Arwen and Aragorn to no end, to see their dignified and noble friend reduced to childish games, and even Gimli's teasing did not deter the elf from playing with the child. Such times were the only ones in which Legolas seemed to be his old self, before the War and the affliction of the Sea Longing.

She shook off her concern for Legolas and instead explained about Legolas's kin. "Yes, the Silvan elves became known as wood elves and in time came to dwell in the great forest near Erebor. It was these elves that Legolas's grandfather, Oropher, was named lord over when he moved from Doriath to Greenwood the Great after the War of Wrath. But we are getting ahead of the story…

"Olrendis grew up, and for many years she pined for her lost friend and love. But then in the forest, she met another and he won her affections, and they were bound. They had a daughter and it is said Olrendis spent many hours braiding grass chains with flowers for her daughter to wear in her hair — a tradition still practiced among the Silvan elves. I remember Legolas's mother made them for her children."

"What happened to Leg'las's mother, Naneth?" Glassiel asked, her never ending curiosity getting the best of her.

Arwen hesitated. She remembered getting word of the queen's death when Legolas had only been an adolescent, but she did not think Glassiel needed to know the details.

"That is Legolas's story to tell," Eldarion answered for her. "And it is not a happy one. Some things are best left unsaid. Olrendis was happy for a time, was she not, Naneth?""

Arwen gave her son a smile of gratitude. Just like his father in so many ways. "Yes, those days were happy ones. Olrendis had her family, and to her delight, word came of her long lost friend who she had never thought to see or hear from again. A wandering group of Avari had traveled as far as Beleriand and brought news that many of the Teleri had not gone West, but settled there in Doriath, her lost love among them. She learned of his wife and child and was happy he had also found love."

Merilin sighed and blinked dreamy eyes at her. That child was a romantic like her father. And Glassiel reminded her of the stories she had heard of Estel as a child. Did any of her children take after her at all? She did not remember ever being so curious, mischievous or melodramatic as the girls, and Eldarion was the spitting image of Aragorn in both appearance and temperament, except for the lack of beard on his face.

"Long years, Olrendis's heart was full of joy, but then tragedy struck. Their people were a wandering folk, and as they journeyed, they were attacked by orcs. Olrendis managed to escape with her granddaughter, but her husband, her daughter's husband and her daughter were all killed."

"No!" Merilin cried out. "No, that is not fair!"

"Life is not always fair, little one," Arwen reminded her.

"Not even Beren and Luthien's story was really fair," Glassiel stated with a haughty air.

Eldarion snorted. "Beren and Luthien were returned to life from the dead to marry. I would say that makes up for a lot of what they suffered."

"Hmmm." Glassiel sulked.

"Please tell me, Naneth, that Olrendis's story has a happy ending too?" Merilin asked.

"Oh child," Arwen soothed. "Not all stories have a happy ending, but this one is far from complete. Shall I continue?" The girl nodded.

"Olrendis would have wasted from her grief if not for her granddaughter, who had not yet reached her majority. The two comforted one another, but having lost so much, Olrendis found she wished to see her old friend again, to meet his family, to perhaps find refuge there with her granddaughter. But it was not to be.

Merilin sat with a shocked look on her face. "Did she die?" she whispered.

"No," Arwen assured her. "Her granddaughter met a young man and fell in love. His people, some of their scattered kindred, were migrating back East, across the mountains to the Great Forest they had once lived in long ago. But Olrendis could not bring herself to return there without her husband and daughter. Although her heart had changed and her love for her dead husband was strong, she wished to see her old friend again. That desire was so strong, it drove her to part with those who became the Silvan elves that settled in the forest that became Greenwood the Great. With a heavy heart, she kissed her granddaughter goodbye, and instead sought out Doriath."

"So, Olrendis's granddaughter became one of Lord Legolas's people?" Merilin asked. She had calmed down but was completely enthralled by the story.

"She and her husband settled in Greenwood the Great, where many Silvan elves still dwelled. This was before King Oropher traveled there, or so the legend says. But the legend does not tell us their names, so we do not know to whom they are related, or if they truly existed at all." Arwen smiled as her children remembered that this was not true history like the tale of Luthien and Beren. This was just a legend, though a very intriguing one.

Glassiel bit her lip as she pondered what they had heard so far. "So what happened to Olrendis? And why does she have that name? I do not think she is mysterious at all. She just has a sad story."

"Let Naneth finish the tale, Glassiel. She is almost to that part," Eldarion added, and the girls looked at their mother expectantly.

Arwen continued, "Olrendis traveled to Doriath, to meet again with her old friend. And she was welcomed there, and her joy at being reunited with her old friend was great. Olrendis was welcomed by his family. His son was grown and had a grown son of his own. For a time she was happy.

"That means something bad is going to happen again," Glassiel said, almost gleefully.

"You want something bad to happen?" Merilin asked her with shock. "You do not wish Olrendis to find happiness?"

"Well," Glassiel said thoughtfully, "it is just that when bad things happen, the story gets exciting and people do extraordinary things! Like Luthien and Beren!"

Merilin groaned and Arwen was tempted to join her. She would have to tell her husband to avoid that story for a while with their youngest.

"While bad things can give people the opportunity act heroically," Arwen stated with narrowed eyes on her youngest, "we should not wish it upon them."

"No Naneth," Glassiel murmured repentantly, ducking her head.

"As it turns out, bad things were happening in many places at that time., The First Age was dark with many battles fought against Morgoth and his subjects. Many elves and Men lost their lives, but in Doriath, the worst loss of life was not at the hands of Morgoth's hosts, but due to greed and the terrible oath sworn by the sons of Fëanor."

Merilin turned pale. "She was there when they destroyed Doriath," she correctly guessed.

"Yes," Arwen said. "During the first sack of Doriath, when the dwarves killed Thingol and stole the necklace containing the Silmaril, Olrendis's friend was killed protecting his family. Olrendis herself was grievously injured trying to help her friend's son and grandson escape."

"This is where it gets really interesting," Eldarion told the girls, who were pale and shaking. Arwen would have stopped the tale then and there at the sight of her daughters, if not for the memory of Aragorn relating the tale of Luthien and Beren, a story far more intense than the one she told now.

"Near death, Olrendis cried out to Ilúvatar to help her — to help her save her friend's family and to reunite her with her own. She wished only to protect those she loved, for her heart was pure and her intentions noble, and Ilúvatar heard her cry. He sent Elbereth to her, who washed her in starlight and strengthened her spirit.

"Her fëa then seemed to consume her body, removing her need for it, and yet she was not dead nor houseless nor truly without form. She had simply faded, vanishing from the sight of mortals and immortals alike, unless she wished to be seen."

Merilin wrinkled her nose doubtfully. "That seems a little far fetched," she said.

"No more than Luthien turning herself into a bad and Beren into a werewolf!" Glassiel reminded her. "It is possible, isn't it Naneth?" The girl turned hopeful eyes on Arwen.

Arwen sighed. "I have found just about anything is possible, my children. But I would remind you, this is a legend, passed on person to person and not always told the same. The story I was told is a bit different from the one Legolas tells, even the woman's name. So, if this did happen, it is possible the story we have now is not exactly how it all came to be, or some things were added or others lost." She wondered if the same was true of the tale of Luthien and Beren, but did not say such.

"All I know is that it was said Olrendis lingered in this world, having the ability to move unseen by all unless she so desired to be seen, and to take the form she chose. She eventually returned to the Great Wood, and it is said that to those who encountered her strange and unusual appearances that she was naught but a vision or a dream. Thus, she became Olrendis, the Dream Wanderer, showing herself only in times of great need."

"But what did she do?" Merilin asked. "Did she fight and protect her family and the family of her lost friend?"

"It is said she warned of danger, for she is wise above all the Avari, because of her years and the favor granted her by Ilúvatar and the Belain. Some believed she guided elves at the Belain's direction, though most believe she acted on her own, helping only her descendants or those of her childhood friend.

"She was usually seen as a golden-haired maiden, often singing softly in a strange language as she wove grass chains for those she helped. It is said that the light of the stars filled her eyes and she appeared as almost one with them, for Varda used starlight when she bolstered Olrendis, and by the power of the stars, granted upon the lady her gift."

The children sat staring at her, not a word spoken for the past several minutes. Even Eldarion looked stunned.

"My father once told me that during the Last Alliance at the end of the Second Age, he heard of a captain from the Greenwood who had sustained mortal wounds. This captain said he had seen a golden-haired child warning King Oropher to stay with Gil-galad's forces. No one else saw her, and the captain died of his wounds. If indeed, the king was warned, he did not heed it, and Oropher fell in that battle, along with one of his grandsons, and two thirds of the elves that came with him."

"Lord Legolas had a brother who fought in the Last Alliance?" Merilin asked.

"Yes, but his father never spoke of him after that terrible tragedy. That battle left Thranduil king of the wood elves, and he returned to their realm changed by the loss of so many of their people. My father said that after that battle, no one ever saw Olrendis again. He thought perhaps with that battle, the last of her kin and those she watched over had passed to Mandos, and that she followed them there — if she ever existed at all."

To Be Continued…

Reviews are very motivational! And I'm really interested in what readers think of this legend!

Ilúvatar – Eru, the One, creator of all

Belain – Sindarin word for the Valar

Elbereth – Sindarin name for Varda, maker of the stars

Fëa – elven word for spirit

Author's Note: To the best of my ability, I have retold the history of Middle-earth in this chapter as it relates to my original character, Olrendis. I have taken some liberties, but remember, this story is a legend or fable. While many elements are straight from the History of Middle-earth and the Silmarillion, it is a retelling and some elements may have been exaggerated or changed, but the core of the story is true to my universe, and I believe it works within the boundaries Tolkien gave us.

If you are interested in the history of the elves, please read the Silmarillion by JRR Tolkien. I have only touched the surface in this tale. The story of Olrendis and her childhood love and any association with canon characters are my own creation as well as her petition to the Belain and their bestowing of her 'gift'.

However, Olrendis' gift has a strong basis in something I stumbled across when reading Morgoth's Ring, concerning the process of 'Lingering'. I have taken some liberties with this concept…but here is what Tolkien said about it:

"As ages passed the dominance of their fëar ever increased, 'consuming' their bodies. The end of this process is their 'fading', as Men have called it; for the body becomes at last, as it were, a mere memory held by the fëa; and that end has already been achieved in many regions of Middle-earth…

…the Lingerers, whose bodily forms may no longer be seen by us mortals, or seen only dimly and fitfully….

They do not seek to converse with Men at all, save maybe rarely, either for the doing of some good, or because they perceive in a Man's spirit some love of things ancient and fair. Then they may reveal to him their form (through his mind working outwardly, maybe), and he will behold them in their beauty. Of such he may have no fear, though he may feel awe of them.

- excerpts taken from 'Laws and Customs of the Eldar' in Volume ten of the History of Middle Earth - Morgoth's Ring, The Later Silmarillion Part One by Chistopher Tolkien