4 - Young Love - Ereinion

Rómeniêl had grown into a young Dúnedan woman and had been sent to Mirkwood to learn of the ways of the Woodelves. Thranduil’s Halls were full of miracles for the young, dark hair woman and for the first time she had neither Estel in her wake nor her father keeping a watchful eye on his heir. She was allowed to make her way over the Misty Mountains over the High Pass and down into the valley of the Anduin to enter Mirkwood at the Elven Gate alone.

She craved to prove herself and for once not bother if Estel was the son of Arathorn and that she was meant to guard him and his secret. He was her age and they were like siblings. It seemed like a blessing when Elrond revealed to him that he was Aragorn and he sent him to Lothlorien. At least now she didn’t have to keep the secret of his heritage from him anymore.

Rómeniêl was hungry to learn more and wanted to see the world. She wanted to be free of the burden for once, which was a lot to bear for a teenager. Elrond and the White Council had decided that it would be best if Aragorn would learn to rely on himself, while she was to learn to stand her ground. Her father was reluctant to agree, but Gandalf and Elrond set her free of her duty ever since she had taken the oath. Every step over the High Pass eased her heart and let her mind work a lot easier. Her heart sang when she saw the Elven Gate.

Her father had warned her of the passage through the darkening forest, but she had barely set her foot into the forest when an arrow landed at her feet. Rómeniêl drew her bow and looked around. Another arrow landed just in front of her feet. This time she took time to look at it and saw that the deadly arrowhead was missing and instead a padded bundle was attached to it. Soft laughter was heard from above and she rolled her eyes. “Very funny!” She put her bow and arrow away just in time to find a young, dark haired and handsome Elf land right in front of her. He picked the arrow up and handed it to her. “Goheno nin, it was meant as a welcome. Are you Rómeniêl?” His voice was pleasant but with the slight singing tune and a heaviness which told her he wasn’t used to speaking Westron.

He picked up the arrows and handed them to her with a radiant smile. “Elen sila lumen omentilmo, Rómeniêl. Though I think it is your light that seems to shine upon our meeting.” Rómeniêl blushed.

She was surprised that someone expected her and even more at the unexpected compliment, but nodded. She hadn’t earned her name as a Ranger yet, and the Elves usually cared little for those names anyway. “Mae govannen, mellon. Though you acted only half a melon.” She teased him and it took him a moment until he understood the joke.

“Oh, aren’t you a witty one?” He crossed his arms and walked with her. “Your father sent scouts ahead and they told us to expect you. I am Ereinion.”

“You already know my name.” She smiled boldly at him and watched him closely.

Over the next weeks Ereinion became her shadow. He was always lingering about in the shadows of trees, between the foliage above or just happened to stroll across her path ‘by chance’. Rómeniêl and Ereinion constantly grew fonder of each other, yet he kept his distance. It was like a cautious dance between them. She taught him Westron, he taught her how to kiss.

One day they both sat in the grand hall, where Rómeniêl once more admired the stone carved trees and birds. The halls inside these mountains were like a living forest made of stone and she expected to hear the leaves rustle while the stone birds started to sing. Ereinion sat next to her, but his eyes were glued to her young, pale face and suddenly he took her hand.

She turned her head quickly and with mild surprise. They exchanged deep glances. “You know I would give it all up for you, don’t you?” He spoke softly and she swallowed. She had learned enough about the tales of Luthien and Beren, about Earendil and Elwing to know what he meant. “But Ereinion! You want to become Captain of the King’s Guard you said.” She looked at his hand holding hers.

He nodded and moved closer. “But I would give that up for you too.” She looked up into his dark eyes and flawless face. A face she had looked at often in admiration and love. Now she leaned forward and kissed him. They both jumped, even though only for a moment, then their lips met again.

Their kiss was interrupted by a quiet cough and the one of the king’s advisors looked down at the two of them with a raised brow. “Ereinion, the king is looking for you. Go see him at once.”

Rómeniêl blushed and looked at her feet, while Ereinion stood and bowed his head. “At once, my lord.” He turned once more and his hand gently ran over her face and cupped her chin to lift it. His dark eyes held her captive immediately and she forgot her worries when he smiled and leaned down to kiss her head. “Amin mela lle.”

It was easy to ignore the judgemental gazes the king’s advisor gave them when all she could see was Ereinion’s smile. So Rómeniêl just waved when he followed the advisor to see the king. They both couldn’t know that there weren’t many more days like these nor many more kisses.

Only when he was gone and she sat alone the realization came to her once more what his words had meant. She knew darkness was stirring in Barad Gularan and Dol Guldur. The huge spiders grew fatter and bigger daily. They both had their duties and they both knew that their love would not easily find approval.

The day passed and Rómeniêl had taken to walking through the gardens. She had no eye for the beauty of the flowers nor the sound of Elven voices that began to sing to the stars and the moon. Her mind was occupied with worries and she longed to see the handsome young Elf. She prayed to the Valar that he would come with good news, but then he suddenly stood next to a tree and his eyes gave away how heavy his heart was.

She ran to him without hesitation and ignored the curious gazes of the Elves in the garden. Ereinion’s strong arms wrapped around her and he looked down. “I will have to leave immediately. King Thranduil even wanted me to go without a good bye, but I couldn’t go without seeing you, Lirimaer.” He kissed her once more and then Ereinion took his leave heavy hearted and with promises on his lips that his vow to give his life up for her remained.

Rómeniêl wanted to run after her but a strong hand stayed her. One of the Rangers of the North stepped out of the shadow and stayed her. She was called to the Shire by her father.

The young Dúnedan woman left Thranduil’s Halls the same night. Her father like knew about her and Ereinion. She wasn’t sure how he had heard about her love to an Elf, but she was sure that she would earn a proper scolding.

She met her father when she came to the High Pass over the Misty Mountains. She prepared for the worst, but her father greeted her without scolding her and instead send her off with errands in the Shire to get to know the local folks better. His face seemed to older, worn and his stern gaze almost seemed softened when he looked upon his daughter. He even accompanied her to the Shire and never lost a word about Ereinion, although she knew that he had sent for her because of him.

Rómeniêl took up her duty among the Rangers of the North near the Shire, far away from Mirkwood and far away from Ereinion for a few years. Her father often sent her to Cirdan in the Grey Havens too. There she one day met Aragorn again.

3 - Youth - Growing Pains

With a loud clatter a sword dropped to the stony ground, followed by a backpack angrily thrown into a far corner of the room. The woman, whose age could hardly be guessed, stomped around into the room, her dark hair trailing after her. She jerked at straps of her belt and jammed a sword against the doorframe with a little too much force, so it dropped and clattered too.

Her brows were wrinkled and her face fuming with a mix of anger and disappointment.

Her father followed after her, walking regal and looking calm. His appearance was just as dark haired and his age could hardly be guessed either, but here and there frost had touched the dark hair and left small wrinkles around his steal blue eyes.

He picked up the sword and leaned it against the doorframe, watching how the woman strode across the room, cursing to herself.

“Are you done yet. Rómeniêl?” His voice was calm, almost cold.

“Done? Done with what?” She didn’t even leave time for him to answer the question as words and tears poured out of her. “Done with what? With being bruised, shoved, shunned, screamed at, tortured, rejected and alone? Done with doing my duty and stepping back from what others call a fulfilled life?”

She made a fist and hit the wall, flinching at the self-inflicted pain. But instead of turning around she just formed a tighter fist and hit the same spot again.

Silence followed as the man watched her leaning her head against the cool stone walls.

Slowly he stepped up behind her after a long moment and gently placed his hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off and moved to the side.

Another few moments passed until he stepped up again to once more place his hand on her shoulder this time earning a glare from angry but tear-filled eyes.

“Are you done yet?” He asked her again with the same calm voice and held her gaze. She shrugged and her shoulders sank as the angry look on her face made room for a rather sad look.

“I guess,” was her plain and timid answer.

With a slow, gently but determined grip he turned her around and placed both hands on her shoulders. “You’re frustrated. I understand that. We all have been one way or the other. Again and again and again. But it is not for us to decide what we can have sometimes, nor what we are. You are my daughter and as such you have a duty. You are strong and will-full, but you will need to learn to step back. There are things we cannot have and there are things we shall not desire. Remember what happened to Númenor. Let our history be a warning not to desire what we are not destined to be or have.”

She swallowed hard and looked to the ground, unable to hold his stern blue gaze. “I know Adda. I have sworn an oath and I will not fail you.”

He nodded sternly and spoke softly. “You’re needs don’t count sometimes. See to those you love and find peace and happiness in knowing that they are safe and happy. A ranger leads a life in the shadows, we cannot allow ourselves to crave for anything else but the safety of the land for the sake of our people. If you love, then let love be the strength to keep you hidden and fortified against your own desires.” His voice was stern but warm in this moment and the stern gaze of his steal blue eyes softened for a blink of the eye. She looked up and in this moment his face revealed a sudden softness, before it returned to a grave almost cold expression. The tone of his voice changed and he held the gaze of her green eyes, sounding almost cold. “You are my daughter and of the line of the Arandil. Never forget your duty, failure is not acceptable.”

She swallowed hard and nodded, wiping the tears of her face, feeling that this display of weakness was already a failure. “Yes Adda, I understand.”

She straightened her shoulders with all the power her will gave her and pushed back the urge to lean forward to rest her head against his shoulder.

He plainly nodded at her and gave her a pat on the shoulder. “Good.”

He turned and left her standing tall and alone in the grand hall. She stood for a while and stared at the wall, before she dropped back and leaned her back against the wall.

Her eyes slowly watered but she forced back the tears and swallowed hard. “I shall not fail.” She repeated this sentence ever so quietly as if it was a prayer and finally pushed herself of the wall.

Her face had become pale and stern, a last flicker of sadness in her eyes. “Love, light and hope shall I give to the world, even if I keep none for myself.” Her steps seemed hesitant for a moment and each stepped seemed to be a burden. She rubbed her shoulders and flinched, as the bruises were still fresh, making her way across the room to fetch her belongings.