Weaving a Song

Chapter 80

November 22 3018 TA

Thranduil kept half of his mind on the feast and the other half on his bond with his daughter. Although things seemed to go well, he felt no change suggesting more than a walk through the forest. And though neither returned to the feast for the rest of the night, Thranduil did notice that when she returned to the Palace close to dawn, she returned alone. That day, it appeared that Almiel had not rested for though she returned at dawn she did not go to her quarters.

At around ten, as Thranduil was passing the guest quarters, one of the Elves from Lórien came out of their rooms and after inquiring of their well-being he found that Haldir had returned at the same time Almiel had, but instead had retired instead of roaming the Palace. "Tell the rest of your party that you may eat and recline in the Palace today, and that you may leave tomorrow at dawn." Thranduil told the ellon who inclined his head and stepped aside for Thranduil to continue on his way.

Thranduil himself wandered the hallways, but his suspicion was confirmed when he found Almiel at the statue of her mother. He paused, watching her for a minute. She had a wilting flower cupped in her hand, and her brow was furrowed. She cocked her head, and Thranduil watched the flower slowly regain its vitality. When it was finished, he walked toward her again.

"Should you really be doing that?" He asked. She seemed to jump and looked at him surprised. Then she looked at the flower again.

"Probably not, but I just…" She started. Her voice fell and she sighed. Thranduil stepped forward and then kneeled next to her.

"You can never be selfish can you?" He said, almost wistfully. Almiel glanced at him amused.

"I know it kills you too." She said, the corner of her mouth lifting. Thranduil could not smile. It was taking his long practiced skill to keep from breaking down anyway.

"Only because it will kill you." He said softly. He looked away from her eyes, knowing that she could read his fear never made it any easier to look her in the eye. In fact, it made it harder. "I knew it, from the moment you told me about that encounter with the Spider, that one day something like that would happen again, except worse. This time you may not come back from where your spirit is leading you. I said I knew it… I suppose I suspected it." He finally took the heart to look her in the eye again.

"For some reason I could never keep you from the fear that I would die." She said. She glanced back at her mother's statue. "The same with my mother."

"When you are told that your child's fate has something to do with the whole of Middle-Earth and that she might not survive… it has stayed with me ever since. But lately," he paused before taking her hand and kissing it, "Lately that has been more of a reality. I know very well what may happen as soon as you leave, or before. I wish I could stop it, wish I could protect you with everything I have. Unfortunately, I have long learned that I cannot. No more can I simply pull you off when you have gone too far. Your gift works from a distance now. I can only ask and pray that your fate will not end where the prophecy said it would, and that you will return to me when this war is over."

Almiel sighed. "I cannot promise that, but perhaps we have both cause to worry for each other." She turned her eyes to his. "What will happen to you, should I really die?" Thranduil's eyes studied hers.

"Ever have you and Legolas kept me from fading," he said softly. "I do not know what would happen to me. Nor would I have my well-being keep you from doing what you know is right, much though I loathe it." His fingers traced the outline of the flower she had healed. "I learned long ago not to tempt the Valar, for cruel the outcome may be. It is cruel of them that they would give me such a perfect Princess only to tell me she might die in the process, but it is also cruel of me to stop you from choosing for yourself whom you may follow."

Almiel looked down at her feet, arms now curled around her knees as she sank into thought. "What made you cave?" She finally asked. "Why did you actually say yes to him?" Thranduil smiled slightly.

"For you, iel nin, long has fate been harsh to you, but ever since it has brought you a savior in him. He is the only one I could ever give you too, and I think he is the only one fate would have you choose." Then he cocked his head, "I feel even now that you love him." Almiel sighed and turned her face so he could not see her eyes at all. "Why?" He asked, knowing she must have turned his offer down.

"I did not reject him fully, Ada, merely told him that we must wait. The time is not right."

"I suppose you are worried you would cause his death if you died?" Thranduil pressed gently.

"In a way, though he seems to think he will Sail or die if I die regardless of our relationship. No, that is not the reason, but you must trust me as I told him too. Our time will come, but that is not now." Thranduil hesitated and then reached out and put his hand on her arm.

"What of you? What if marrying him now could save you?"

"I think… that if my time is to come, nothing will save me." She said so softly he would not have heard her if he had been even an inch farther from her.

"I guess I have no choice but to trust you." He said sighing. "I only hope you know what you're doing."

Almiel sighed, lifting her eyes to her father's. "I wish I could promise that I will come home." Thranduil's eyes seemed to glisten for a second.

"You will," Thranduil said. "If all else fails, we all come home. No matter where home is." He moved closer to her and wrapped his arms around her. Almiel was shaking, and it was not long before the tears started to fall. She moved closer, burying her head into his chest, holding onto him as she hadn't since she was a child. There they held each other, for a minute, an hour, two, perhaps a day. The time stretched without really moving and they had no care to move it.

Father and Daughter. Together. Alone. For perhaps the last time.

*

The next morning dawned same as any other, but there were clouds gathering in the distance. "It may rain on your journey." Thranduil said to Almiel. She did not appear very confident. She was pale, and looked as if she did not really want to leave. Haldir seemed to sense it too, and he was watching her with worry in his eyes.

Almiel glanced up at her father and nodded. "Yes, but we are not going far."

"Perhaps not." Thranduil said casually. Then he walked over to Haldir. "There will be guards around you as you leave the forest. The elf path is safe going west but the Enemy moves through the forest quickly. Once you leave the forest you will be on your own."

Haldir nodded. "Hannon le." He said and the other warriors looked grateful as well. It was not hard to see the relief on their face.

Thranduil turned to his own warriors who would be guarding them. "If it is close to twilight when you are at the edge, stay there until morning. Do not risk the forest at night if you do not have too."

"Of course, Sire." The leader said.

While everyone else mounted their horses, Almiel hesitated. She looked at her father. "I-."

Thranduil waited but when she did not finish her sentence he spoke for her. "Unad nuithatha i nîr e-guren nalú aderthad vín*, no matter when that is." He said gently. "All will be well, you shall see."

Almiel silently nodded and hugged her father once more. Thranduil inwardly sighed, knowing this could well be the last time on Ennor that they would meet. "Gi melin." Thranduil said softly, kissing her forehead. "Now go." He said more forcefully.

Haldir took her arm, and Almiel allowed herself to be led away. Thranduil watched as dignified as he could. He sighed as she mounted her horse. Haldir gave the order and they rode down the slim path over the river and into the woods.

He was alone.

*Nothing will stop the weeping of my heart until our reunion