To Live Again: Waiting Between Worlds {Lord of the Rings Fanfiction}

29. Shadows of Time

The indigenous Woodmen of Greenwood and those that live in villages on the borders of our home are relatively simple folk. They are not grand like the noble men of far off Gondor, or the proud horse lords' of Rohan. They remind me very much of my roots, the people who raised me; hard-working, tough, not unkind but not warm in nature either.

It is funny how my attitude towards my old family has greatly shifted, now that I have been gifted immortal eyes to see. Humans have so little time to make an impact, if they even make an impact at all, and truly their lives are spent just surviving. I look back now at the man and woman who raised me and think how fortunate was I, that blood kin would have the means to raise me so comfortably. Sometimes I wonder over them and imagine how I could thank them for their care. Having a family of my own now and a marriage, though uniquely different than any mortals, well, it helps me appreciate the complexity of love, and I am especially reminded of my fortune when I spend time with these mortals.

The winter is coming, and with it a lack of certainty from a poor harvest yield this year for these poor people. My home has many centuries of practice in agriculture, and to be truthful we elves are not too affected by the hunger pangs and the icy bite of winter as these more fragile beings. So, after an audience with some ambassadors from these tribes I was automatically moved to help.

Our harvest yield had been adequate, and with Thranduil's influence over trade further afield I felt we could spare some essential items for our neighbours. In exchange the chieftains and their sons pledged continued allegiance and friendship with the Woodland Realm, and were quite understanding of Thranduil's strict privacy policy - they would not use the Elven Road without permission and would continue to assist our guards in its protection. So, as a promise to myself and to my daughter, I overseen the movement of trade aid and for the past six weeks I have lived among the main settlements. Coming at last to the very same settlement where I saved Avi, all those years ago.

On this morning, nestled by a rough open fire in the centre of the village, I watch fondly as an ancient woman with snow white hair paints runes on my daughter's palms. The lady's skin is creased and worn like old leather, her filmed eyes sunken in to her crumbling bones, her smile nearly completely toothless and gummy, and her memory just as foggy. She can no longer walk, and her great-grandsons' carry her out to the village fire circle as often as her failing health can allow. Her voice is weak and coarse, but she still sings all her memories just as proud as any elf, and as she rubs my daughter's hands with her own twisted and hooked ones, she sings to her of the passing angel that saved her life.

Avi is an old women, very old, even in the eyes of her kin. Her youngest granddaughter sits with us, tending to her beloved Grandmother, who has become quite the matriarchal figure of her community. She tells me that the people say Avi has lived so many long and blessed years because she was touched by an elf maiden. I sit quietly and listen to the story, a mere myth and bedtime story to this young woman before me, yet I know the truth. I did help Avi, but I don't believe that I should carry all the praise, for that child was strong and she was never going to fade...she and I shared the same heart.

Sadly, Avi cannot see me and her memory is so muddled now that I am afraid her family would think her ramblings mad if she claimed I was that angelic creature. I brought Celairiel to meet her, and at first my daughter was confused and even frightened to see mortality so plainly in front of her, but her fear soon ebbed to wonder. She finds Avi fascinating, and was keen to tell her family that their Grandmother had a soul of the forest - a woman of the woods that sang with the chords of nature. Sadly I don't think the family quite got my daughter's excitement, they are after all people of the wood, but I understood her astonishment. What Celairiel was trying to convey, was that she felt a similarity in her spirit with mortal men, a strand of something she could affiliate with, and I am glad this little trip has opened her heart a little. She may not be mortal, and neither am I, but that does not mean that our hearts are not that far removed from theirs...we all sing the same soul-song.