Stars of Varda - An Elven Love Story (Thranduil)

9. An Unexpected Meeting

If not for my tormented conscience, I would skip the scheduled visit with Lady Aethel. What better reason than the need to work on my writings for the King? She would understand without question, affording me a week's respite.

But my guilt carries me over the winding, narrow bridges and past the tall, carved columns resembling trees until I reach the deepest part of the caverns. I walk down the amber-lit hallway leading to Aethel's rooms and anticipate another letter-reading and one-sided conversation on the perfection of Galadriel's realm.

Perhaps today will be about how Lórien's springtime rivals ours. Or how Caewen has been asked by Galadriel to play her harp again...

But I shall endure it. Feeling responsible for encouraging Gwendes down a dangerous path, I do not wish to risk causing further pain to anyone else. Aethel has been good to me, and after all she has suffered, a few hours of inconvenience are little to ask.

Before my mother's departure from Middle-earth, she spoke of Aethel's husband dying only the day after Caewen's birth. With her daughter's long absence, she has been left to live alone. Is it any wonder why the Lady seeks companionship?

The door is ajar. I lightly tap the oak and walk in, assuming she anticipated my coming and left it open.

At first glance, the room is empty, the swan-carved chair without its usual occupant. I wonder if she is even home, and if I should wait for her. A small movement in the corner of my eye makes me turn.

Sitting near the bookshelf, under the silver swan sculpture with its outstretched wings, is a flaxen-haired elleth who could be Lady Galadriel's granddaughter.

I open my mouth but cannot find my voice.

"You must be Rîneth, daughter of Gailon the Advisor," she says in a voice both high and soft, and stands. "I am Caewen."

Without conscious thought, my hand flies to my mouth. I had not made the connection upon first seeing her. Caewen does not share any of her mother's darker features. It is as if her time in Lothlorien transformed her appearance into one more fitting of Galadriel's elegant kindred.

"This is indeed a happy surprise," I say. "I heard of your coming but did not know it would be so soon..."

"I arrived only yesterday. The journey was long and arduous; I cannot say I am eager to repeat it."

Though Caewen maintains a small smile, it does not reach her dark blue eyes. There is a secretiveness about her. Her face is devoid of much discernible emotion, as though it is hidden away. It is in stark contrast to her mother. I cannot decide if I am a welcome visitor or not. Where is Lady Aethel?

"It is not a road for the faint of heart. You must still be tired." I sit down, relieved Caewen follows my lead. "Tis a shame we have not seen each other since we were children."

"It is."

"Have you enjoyed being home after so long?"

Lady Aethel enters from her bedchamber before Caewen can reply, the permeating scent of citrus and vanilla following her footsteps.

"Rîneth, henig, is she not more beautiful than any gemstone?"

Though Caewen seems adept at hiding emotion, her embarrassment is as noticeable as her mother's bright lavender robes.

"More beautiful than even the gems of Lasgalen."

It does not seem possible for Lady Aethel's smile to widen further.

"Why have you not come before now?" I ask. "We have been so eager for your return."

"I could never stop learning in Caras Galadhon, even when I believed it was impossible to learn more. I was reluctant to depart from my teachers and friends...they were all so kind. But of course, I missed Nana..."

I notice Aethel's warm, cheerful expression does not extend to her eyes as she listens. There is sadness in them, and confusion as well. Does Caewen realize the hurt she has caused by being away for so long? With the way Caewen stares at her lap instead of making eye contact, it seems there is more to the story.

"I traveled to Lothlórien when I was much younger," I say. "I remember it as being full of light and splendor like I had strayed into my dreams of the gardens of Aman, yet still I was in Middle-earth. I explored every corner and every tree, yet I could never explore it fully. But I have often thought the same of our own realm."

"Yes." Caewen looks up. "But with the growing darkness in Mirkwood, I felt safer under Lady Galadriel's protection. Nana has kept me well informed of the enemy's servants who roam freely near the borders."

Roam freely? It is an interesting choice of words; the Woodland Guard maintain a close watch on the borders at all times. If they were not successful, the realm would have been overrun long ago. A tingle of irritation ripples through me at Lady Aethel's continued lack of faith in Thranduil.

"A few marchwardens offered to accompany me or I would not have risked travel," Caewen says.

"Why did you decide to return?" The words pour from my mouth before I can stop them.

Caewen studies her hands again, her face inscrutable. "Nana has gone without my company for far too long. And after all, the Greenwood is my home. I am here to stay." She looks at her mother. "And I am happy for it."

If Caewen is happy, I decide anything is possible, including Elros suddenly professing an abiding love for Gwendes. Or the creature Gollum making for pleasant company.

Lady Aethel's smile never wavers.

"Caewen, tell her about your mishap. And, more importantly, who saved you."

"Nana, please..."

Aethel turns to me, her eyes holding a newfound sparkle. "The night before her departure from Lórien, she nearly died."

"Nana!"

I lean forward. "Died?"

"Yes," says Aethel, delighted. "She was on a midnight stroll through the Golden Wood and climbed a tree for a better view of the starlight, knowing she would miss the skies above Lórien dearly, but the branches were slippery and she lost her hold. Luckily, someone caught her before she met her end."

"Who?" I look at Caewen.

"Lord Haldir," Aethel answers.

"I remember hearing his name before..."

"He helps patrols the borders of Lórien, a favored marchwarden in the realm. He...accompanied me on my journey here," Caewen says uncomfortably.

"How fortunate it was he was there to catch you. He must be quicker on his feet than most."

Lady Aethel nods. "I said the same."

I doubt Caewen would have fallen to her death, no matter how high the branches. As a child I fell from the top of an oak tree without as much as a bruise, Legolas more than a few times – the Eldar are nimble-footed and not prone to injury as easily as Man or Dwarf.

"Is Lord Haldir still here?" I ask.

Caewen shakes her head. "He left this morning."

"Tis a shame...I would have liked to meet him," says Lady Aethel. "And see the fair face others have mentioned, though Caewen will not admit it."

"He is just as any other, Nana."

I bite the inside of my lip to prevent laughter over the comical scene. The visit has become more intriguing by the moment, the opposite of the dull conversation I expected upon my arrival. If Haldir and Caewen are in a courtship or interested in starting one, why would she have braved the perilous journey to return home? And if Haldir accompanied her, why did he not stay to be with his lady?

It seems Caewen is a mystery, even to her own mother.