Elladan

The boulder I am leaning against is warm. A gentle breeze plays with loose strands of my hair, the light behind my closed eyelids is golden. The Sun warms that part inside me that is always cold, that part I have been hiding from everyone for years, even from my brother. That lump of ice in my chest thaws a little bit in the sunlight.

But the moment of bliss is short. Warmth grows faint, the glow fades, and I look up at the gathering clouds with a sigh. The year is too young for a full day of unclouded sky yet, and the spring weather so close to the shore is unreliable.

Elrohir emerges from the copse of tangled trees where he has rested in the shade and turns towards me with a smile and a twinkle in his eye. “Purring like a cat in the Sun again, brother?” But his smile swiftly fades, and we share a stab of grief. That is what our sister often said. Arwen, our sister…

I rise, take a few steps towards the outcrop and watch for a while our destination, Emyn Beraid and the white towers gleaming in the distance. Then I turn the other way. The far-off places we have left behind are clear and vibrant in my mind’s eye. The Great East Road runs to the green hills of the Shire, the town of Bree beyond and further on, crossing the Lone-lands, towards Imladris. There, Bruinen still rushes over the rapids, fed by the melting snow in the mountains, and waterfalls gleam like silver threads in the spring Sun. Songbirds weave their nests in the thickets on the riverside. In mother’s garden the new leaves of rose bushes are close to unfolding. Bright blue flowers scatter the ground at the feet of mighty trees we once climbed as children. The air is fresh and fragrant after the spring rains…

“What a beautiful land this is.”

I speak aloud and wonder at my own words. Did I consider Middle-earth beautiful before? Maybe I did when I was younger. But afterwards… afterwards I paid little heed to beauty, and even now this awareness comes from the mind rather than from the heart. Too many memories of death and pain veil it.

Elrohir comes to stand beside me, and again, not for the first time during these last months, I sense something clouding my brother’s heart. Fear? Uncertainty? I am not sure. Whatever the feeling is, he is hiding it well.

“Do you… regret going away?” My brother’s tone is cautious, his eyes - guarded.

I shake my head. “It is just strange to take leave like this. Forever.”

We stand side by side, watching the winding ribbon of the Road that disappears amid green fields and scattered patches of trees. At length I sigh and shoulder my pack.

“Let us go.”

Stepping down from the hillock, we return to the Road and turn westward. For some two miles, vast fields and grasslands stretch on either side. After that woodlands appear, sparse at first, then growing into dense thickets in places. We have walked five miles or a bit more when Elrohir suddenly halts.

“I hear something ahead.” He tilts his head, listening. “It sounds like—”

“…a battle,” I finish the sentence. “Let us be wary.”

As we advance quiet as shadows through the woodland, the sound of clanking metal and distant shouts grows louder. At the source of it, we cautiously peer from the cover of trees. A clearing, some hundred paces across, is made into a disordered camp, with a firepit and several tents amid scattered boulders. There, a company of King’s soldiers is fighting a band of dishevelled but fierce-looking men.

“These must be the highway robbers we heard of in Bree.” Elrohir takes a step towards the clearing, hand on the sword-hilt.

I restrain him. “This is no longer our fight. They need not our help. There are fifty soldiers against, what, twenty of those brigands?”

“You are right.” He steps back with some reluctance. “Still, I would see how this ends.”

The fight is short. The soldiers are much better armed, far better trained and more numerous, and those they have been fighting are soon in bonds. Three bandits have fallen, a couple of soldiers and some of the brigands have sustained injuries. Still, in a brief while the company has assembled and is heading westward, to the place where the road forks, running straight towards Mithlond and south towards the town of Orfornost. It is the same direction we must take.

We keep behind the company, but at the crossroads where they have halted to rest we catch up with them. As we emerge from the turn of the road, several soldiers rise and reach for their weapons. Their captain, a tall, bearded man who looks to be in his mid-fifties, regards us sternly.

“Halt! What is your purpose on this road, strangers?”

“A peaceful one, captain.” I raise my hands, palms outward. “We are on a journey to Mithlond, my brother and I.”

He frowns. “Are you even old enough to be on the road on your own?”

“We are a bit older than we look, my lord.” Elrohir gives him a slight bow. “And we have our father’s leave and encouragement. He considers such a journey… necessary for our education.”  I catch a glint of mirth in my brother’s eyes. With a bit of effort and disguise, we now deliberately choose to pass for young mortals rather than become objects of wide-eyed wonder. Fewer and fewer Elves travel in these parts of Endor nowadays.

“Hmm, very well.” The captain nods and withdraws his hand from the hilt of the sword. “A wise man, your father. Traveling is good for the young. Mithlond, is it? I wish you joy in seeing it, though it is a sad place, they say, with the Firstborn gone. Still, a beautiful sight. The road is safe now, too.” He casts a glance at the bound prisoners, and his eyes flash. “These sons of Orcs haunted the villages and highways this past winter, but their misdeeds are at an end. We are taking them to Orfornost for a trial.”

“We heard of them in Bree,” says Elrohir. “Thank you for keeping peace and order, captain.”

“That is what we do.” The captain shrugs. “My grandfather fought at the Black Gate years before you, lads, were even born, and maybe some of your elder kin fought there too.” When we nod, he continues, “They fought for a better world, you see, for a world without evil. So we must ferret out the last remains of it.” He looks at his men. “Is everyone rested? We still have a few hours of daylight to reach the town and put these here under lock and key.”

We bid farewell to the company. The dust of their horse-hooves has barely settled, when Elrohir looks at me expectantly. “Shall we go as well? If we walk through the night, we will be in Mithlond before the dawn. We should use the fair weather while it holds. The winds on the coast are unpredictable in this time of year, and adding to that our skill with boats…”

Again, I sense in him that feeling I cannot name. Is he uneasy about the journey? True, we have little skill in sailing, but I trust that under protection of the Valar the grey ship will carry us safely to the Undying Lands. When I try to catch his gaze, my brother averts his eyes.

I shake my head in frustration and step on the road, but then something stops me. It is like an insistent whisper, an irresistible pull.

“Brother?” Elrohir looks at me with a question in his eyes.

I stand still for a moment, listening to the sounds of the woods and fields around. Nothing unusual there, and yet... “We should go back.”

“Back?”

My brother slightly pales. The shield slips briefly. He is hiding fear, I am sure of it now. But – fear of what? I watch him closely as I reply: “To the place of battle. To the camp of outlaws.”

Elrohir releases the breath he has been holding. The fear fades. “Are you certain?”

It is clear I will have no explanation from him now, so I nod, slightly irritated. “Yes. I know we should not tarry. And yet…”

He questions me no more. “Let us go then.” Through the years of fighting side by side we have learned to trust each other’s senses.

“The captain spoke of a world without evil…” Elrohir breaks the silence when we have measured a few miles. “But those men, those robbers… They looked so unmistakeably wicked. Everything we heard in Bree about their deeds confirms this. And yet… Darkness is gone. Why are they like that? How does evil endure?”

Can you root out Darkness entirely? All our long history bears witness that we cannot. The very thought of a world without evil is a deception.

“I think Darkness never departs fully, not from the hearts of people like these,” I slowly reply. “Evil simply is. It has a foothold on Arda Marred. Father used to say this, remember?” I fall silent and stare ahead, unblinking.

“We shall see father soon,” Elrohir says quietly, aware of my mood. “And mother. And our grandparents.”

“I hope they are well. Father… he looked so worn out when leaving. So tired. Almost like…” My voice breaks. I cannot finish this sentence.

My brother suddenly stops and grips my hands. “They are well,” he says firmly. “They must be. Valinor is a place of healing. They all are well, and we will see them soon.”

I nod. Elrohir knows what I was about to say. When boarding the ship, father seemed almost as weary as Estel in those last weeks ere he laid himself down to rest. My eyes sting. Our brother is gone. Our sister is gone, and only a small mound in the once-majestic woodland marks her last resting place. Will the grief for the lost loved ones ever fade?