Chapter 7

The second watch of the night had begun, and again Elireth could not sleep. The Queen’s words had comforted her for a while but, once darkness fell, despair and restlessness had fallen with it.

She decided to walk back to the Houses of Healing, as there were still some few possessions not recovered from her old apartment. The streets were silent, except for a few guards, and her footsteps echoed on the stone pathways. As she reached the Gardens of Healing, she paused, for it brought back to her the first day when she had seen Legolas. How distant that day seemed now, and how she longed to see him one last time.

Suddenly she froze. Someone was walking in the garden! Then her fear turned to relief and pleasure as she realised that the figure she could see was Legolas. She wondered why he should be there, but did not feel wholly surprised, as he had said these gardens were the finest in Minas Tirith.

He turned his golden head, and saw her standing beneath the trees, and he smiled.

“A star shines upon the hour of our meeting,” he said. “Don’t you ever sleep?”

“I may well ask you the same question,” she said.

Legolas laughed, softly.

“My kin do not need the sleep of mortals,” he said. “I can dream deeply even as I walk under these trees. However, the same cannot be said of you, Mistress Elireth. I have not forgotten the day when I carried you swooning to your quarters, and I would not have it repeated.”

“I too will never forget it,” Elireth replied. “But whether or not I would have it repeated, I cannot say.”

She trembled as she spoke, and both fell silent. The full-throated song of the nightingale could be heard in the clear night air.

“The Company departs tomorrow,” said Elireth.

“Yes,” replied Legolas. “There are many journeys to make before I stand once again under the eaves of my woodland home.”

“But the Queen says you will return,” said she.

“Then the Queen has indeed the wisdom of her father,” he replied, turning away from her, as if looking at something she did not see. “For I have pondered that very question these last two hours as I have walked here: whether to seek the Havens at this time, or whether to return to Ithilien as I said previously and abide in Middle-Earth while Aragorn yet lives.” He turned back to her. “Friendship won the argument in the end.”

“As it always should,” she said.

Again there was silence. And though Legolas did not have the wisdom of Elrond, he yet looked on Elireth with the clear vision born of immortality, and he knew why she had come. But still he did not speak. And the silence became in Elireth’s ears an unbearable sound, louder than the roaring of the Anduin as it lead into the sea. And she knew that the moment of truth had come, but her heart failed her.

“Gimli, your friend,” she began at length, “once, I believe, dared to speak to the Lady of the Galadhrim of her grace and beauty, and to beg a token of her, that he may carry the memory of her always, and bear his love for her wherever he went. But he is a warrior, and I am but a handmaid and a healer, and have not his courage.”

“You have courage enough, daughter of Gondor,” said Legolas. And, as he spoke, he gently took her hand. And the moonlight shone upon the two hands, both pale and fair in the cold, blue light of the midnight sky.

“You have courage enough,” he said. “Courage to face the sorrow and loneliness which this love will bring you. And yet I would not counsel you to forget it, for I see in your eyes that it would be futile."

“It would,” said Elireth. “I will love you until I die, short time though that will seem to you.”

And, though it seemed to Elireth in that moment that her heart would break, yet it was Legolas who had tears in his eyes, and he bent forward and kissed her forehead.

“Such love is now beyond me,” he said, “for I have set my heart on Eldarmar and on the long home of my people. But your love I will treasure even there. And I promise that, when I return to Ithilien, you may walk there as often as the Queen allows. And I will meet you again there.

“Now go and sleep,” he said, “for the Queen will have sore need of you tomorrow.”

Slowly, they unclasped hands, and it seemed to Elireth that the light of the stars shone more warmly than that of the sun had ever done, and there was peace in her heart. She took one last look at Legolas as he stood beneath the small and delicate trees of Gondor’s garden, and the starlight shone there too, within his Elven eyes.

“May Elbereth protect you,” he said.

“And you,” she replied.

In the morning, the sun was shining warmly in the wide blue sky of a land still rejoicing in its liberation, and the fragrance of Ithilien was wafting through the open windows, borne on the still, summer air. Elireth stood before the looking-glass in her chamber, her robing for the morning’s duties just completed. There was a knock on the door and Breda, the chambermaid, entered.

“The Queen is waiting, Mistress Elireth,” she said. “And I found this outside your door.”

Elireth took the small, white object, which Breda held out towards her. It was an envelope with a single word written on it; her own name in light, Elvish script. She broke open the seal and drew out something she knew only too well – the buckle of Legolas’ quiver-belt, wrought of some precious metal she knew not, of exquisite craftsmanship. It was threaded onto a string of plaited Elf-hair, which glistened like gold in the morning sun. Elireth placed the necklace, for such it now was, carefully over her head and re-arranged her hair.

“The Queen awaits,” repeated Breda. “Are you ready?”

Elireth glanced in the looking-glass one more time, and the sun caught the buckle so that it gleamed as if with fire, or as if a star had fallen from the sky to nestle close to her heart.

“I am,” she said.

THE END