Chapter 23 - “So Long, Farewell...”

The day after Halbarad’s arrival, Mireth and Gandalf met Penny after her riding lesson. Mireth had a pair of leggings with her and Gandalf was explaining their purpose. These were to be worn under her skirts for her riding lessons from now on. She was to start riding astride the animal since she would need to learn how to trot and then progress to a canter and gallop. These last two were too precarious for her to try – as someone without the innate balance, skill and athleticism of an elf – sitting sideways on. She did not flinch when Gandalf explained that Elrond wanted her to learn to move a horse fast: that it may save her life one day.

“If Rivendell is attacked, for example, you may need to escape yrch or worse, Lady Pen-ii. It is a serious business.”

She did not, of course, explain that she would never need to escape yrch in Rivendell.

It did occur to her, though, that maybe Rivendell had been subject to some sort of lesser attack that was never mentioned. There was little enough in the books about the big attacks on Lothlorien and Dale, so it was always possible. She knew there were wolves around out there, even now. Suddenly she was very grateful that Elrond was taking so much trouble over her.

Glorfindel was there for breakfast the next day. Aragorn arrived late in the evening. One or two more Dúnedain and elves returned or stayed briefly over the next day or two, till soon all the scouts had reported back to Elrond except Elladan and Elrohir.

Penny found herself better able to cope with things since that evening on the steps with Arwen. She had a melancholy about her that a few sensed – Gandalf, Elrond, and Arwen in particular – but it was not strong, and she did her best to cover it. She was aware, particularly with the return of Aragorn and Glorfindel, that it would all begin very soon.

She did her best not to think about it, though, but if sometimes the realisation hit her in a wave (as would sometimes happen, especially if she saw Boromir and Halbarad together), she reminded herself of Arwen’s song, and of what every elf must feel every time they looked at a mortal, even when they looked at Penny herself. It did not make it less distressing or painful but it made it seem more ‘the natural way of things’: an inevitability that would come to all rather than a blow from out of nowhere visited solely on two individuals. Arwen had given her a sense of perspective that was helping her cope a little better, basically.

Penny managed to convey to Arwen that her bleeding was due in a few days and that there was no way she could ride when that was going on. Arwen said she would talk to Lindir, explaining that there were things Penny needed to do and learn that Arwen would be helping her with and that her mornings would be otherwise occupied for a week. As it happened Lindir did, inevitably, put two and two together and come up with four, of course, but kept his mouth shut and decided discretion was the better part of valour. For once.

Mireth had given Penny a combination of herbs to make an infusion from and drink as a herbal tea once a day for a week prior to her bleeding starting. As a result she did not feel nearly so ill and had little cramping when it started, which meant her routine was not disturbed as it had been the last time.

In the meantime, though, she still had a day or two of riding lessons and the morning after Aragorn’s arrival she had her first lesson astride the horse. She still had not mastered the trotting sideways on terribly well, but in the new sitting position she certainly found it a lot easier. Her skirts were big enough that, if she arranged them a little, only her ankles showed or possibly a little calf. Not that it mattered: the leggings came down to the anklebone.

However, she was mortified when, halfway through her lesson, she glanced up to see a familiar figure leaning against the fence of the paddock with a pipe in his mouth and a smile on his face. As she caught his eye, Halbarad nodded in approval. She flushed and immediately mistimed her rise, got hopelessly out of rhythm with the horse and ended up bouncing up and down like some idiotic jack-in-the-box.

There was a word of irritation from Lindir. She slowed the horse to a walk, recovering herself, then looked up to find Halbarad had left. She groaned. She felt very foolish for having bungled it quite so badly. He had completely thrown her.

What the hell was he doing coming to gawk at her like that, like she was some kind of spectator sport? He might have guessed he would put her off. He had hardly made himself discrete, either, puffing on that bloody stinky pipe of his. Ranger? One ‘skilled in not being seen’? Hardly!

She snickered.

Lindir raised an eyebrow at her. The expression on his face showed he was not amused. She had not fluffed her rise and fall quite so badly for a couple of days, and it should be easier, not harder, astride the saddle. He was less than impressed. He knew perfectly well what had happened. He had smelt the pipesmoke even before he had seen Halbarad. He would have to have a word with him about putting his pupil off like that. He had been far more discrete the day before: Penny had not even noticed him watching her. Coming to see how she was doing was one thing, throwing her completely was something else.

“Concentrate, Pen-ii, Halbarad or no Halbarad. In fact, it should not matter if the entirety of Imladris were staring at you, you still need to concentrate on what you are doing. Now, try once more. Again, Pen-ii. Trot.”

After lunch she managed to catch up with Gandalf as he went for his regular ‘perambulation to aid digestion’, as he put it. Aragorn was deep in conversation with him, Halbarad walking beside them both nodding as he listened.

Penny had not eaten with them since she had come late from her riding lesson and had sat with Eleniel instead.

“Mithrandir?”

He turned, smiling on seeing her. “Ah, Pen-ii. Do join us if you are not off somewhere or have things to do.”

“Le hannon, Mithrandir. I don’t want to interrupt you, though.”

“Nonsense, nonsense. Not at all. I do not think there is much we could discuss that you do not already know, in truth, not that you would understand much of what was said anyway unless I choose to translate for you. You are not disturbing us.”

She nodded and thanked them once more. She was not sure how she was going to broach the subject but she was glad Aragorn was here since it involved him. “I have a request,” she said at last.

They looked at her. “Indeed?” asked Gandalf.

“Yeah. I... well... I realise that Narsil will be reforged at some point soon. I would like to watch if it would be alright, if I wouldn’t get in the way.”

Gandalf grinned and, after he translated, there was a moment’s silence before Halbarad and Aragorn, catching each other’s eye, burst out laughing.

Penny looked baffled, then vaguely irritated. “What? What did I say that’s so hilarious?” Then it dawned on her, “Don’t tell me it’s already done? I’ve missed it? No! Please, no! It’s... it’s... well it’s the reforging of Narsil. This is, like, HUGE! This is history in the making!”

As Gandalf translated the two Dúnedain recovered themselves, looking more serious and with not a little interest at what she was saying.

Aragorn smiled gently. “No, you have not missed it. It is not yet complete, but it has already begun and very nearly finished. How long did you think it would take to make a sword, even to reforge one from an already existent blade?”

“Ahh... err... a day or two? Maybe a week?”

There were gales of laughter as this was translated. Halbarad was wiping tears from his eyes, “Ai, Pen-ii, you are priceless!”

“I take it that it takes a bit longer, then,” said Penny sourly. They did not need to find her ignorance quite so hilarious. It was hardly her fault. “You know, in my time swords haven’t been used in battle, seriously, for about two hundred years. No one uses them.”

This was greeted with confusion and astonishment. “There is no war?” Gandalf asked.

“Oh no! There’s loads of war. More than ever before, probably. It’s just that they don’t use swords.”

Her voice trailed off as she saw Gandalf looking at her but not translating. He had very deliberately avoided questions about her time and he was possibly about to find out more than he would ever want to know if he followed this subject to its conclusion.

“Mithrandir, you are... well, you are who you are. You know better than most, perhaps, what men are capable of. They don’t use swords. They use things that are much worse. Things I really don’t think you want to know about.”

Gandalf nodded. “No, Pen-ii, I am not sure I do.” He turned to the other two, “Let us just say that they have no need of swords since other weapons have superseded them. I do not know what. She would prefer not to say and I, for one, would prefer not to know. I do not think I would like what I would learn.”

Aragorn and Halbarad looked bewildered by this, but both knew Gandalf well enough to take his word on trust absolutely and without question. If he said it was better not to know then it was indeed better not to know.

“Some people still make swords, but only for people who pretend at this sort of thing. They recreate wars or battles from long ago, but it’s not real.”

They looked slightly confused at this. War and battle were serious matters. Why anyone would want to ‘play’ at it was completely beyond them.

“You mean children? Small boys?” Aragorn asked.

Penny snickered. “In a manner of speaking.” She coughed and tried to look serious. “Umm, no, not really. Just really sad adult men.” She looked at Halbarad. “That’s what I thought you were when I first met you, Halbarad. One of these blokes who pretends at being a warrior.”

Halbarad was managing to convey astonishment, amusement, indignation and bafflement all at once. It was quite an achievement.

“When I touched your sword that time... well... I was not expecting it to be sharp. I was very frightened when I found out it was. Thought you were a madman. I didn’t think I would survive the night. Where I come from people just don’t walk about carrying weapons. You have to be mad, bad or dangerous to know if you do. It was the reason why...” She looked at him quite seriously for a moment before she continued, “It was the reason I was so rude with you those first few days. I treated you with no respect and I still feel guilty about it. If I had known, Halbarad, if I had realised for one moment that you were really Halbarad, or even a Dúnedan I had never heard of, I would never had spoken to you the way I did. I hope you can believe that.”

As Gandalf translated Halbarad’s smile warmed. He nodded. He had guessed most of this, had realised that her behaviour in Bree had been entirely due to her struggle to accept where she was and what she was involved in. It was nice to hear such a detailed apology from her, and to know that his name was enough for her to consider he needed respect. Nice to know his work, and that of the other Rangers, was actually appreciated at last.

‘Even if it is two Ages from now,’ he thought ruefully.

“Do not worry, Pen-ii. I have told you before it is all in the past, forgotten. Still...” His eyes twinkled a little. “You certainly showed some spirit. No one would dare speak to me the way you did.”

“I realise that. You were very patient with me. I must have driven you mad.”

“Well...” He nodded and, catching each other’s eye, they laughed.

Penny continued. “Look, the point is that I know nothing about swords or how they are made or how long it takes. So forgive me but you shouldn’t laugh at my complete ignorance.”

Halbarad and Aragorn murmured apologies.

“It is a long process,” Aragorn explained, “and takes nearly a month. They have been working on Narsil for a few weeks already. I am surprised you had not noticed in your visits to the forgery.”

She opened her mouth to say something then closed it again as her brows furrowed. She cast her mind back. Now she thought about it, she had seen them working on something sticklike in the past few weeks. She had thought it might be a blade, in fact it had become fairly obviously one as she had watched, but it had never occurred to her that it was Narsil or, rather, Anduril. Nor had it occurred to her it was the same sword she was seeing being forged every time.

She was annoyed she had not seen the earlier processes now, from when the shards were first brought there and onwards. The noise and heat meant she rarely stayed with the blacksmiths for very long and invariably headed over to the craft workshops whenever she was in that direction after only a short time.

They could see her disappointment.

“Tell you what, Pen-ii, we shall head over there now and you can see it. I shall explain what has happened so far and what is yet to come. How would that be?”

She beamed at Aragorn. “That would be wonderful, Aragorn. Le hannon.”

Halbarad was pleased he came with them. Watching the expression on her face was extraordinary, as both Aragorn and Gandalf agreed afterwards. The awe and reverence with which she watched, almost hardly daring to breathe, as the metal was heated, hammered, and heated again, struck home to all three just how much she knew about their history... and their futures.

The following day Halbarad was to leave Imladris once more. The wolves were gathering in larger numbers in the north and there was a lot to do.

He came to track Penny down at her riding lesson. He called to Lindir, saying something to him as the elf turned to him. Lindir called “Stop” to Penny and then pointed at Halbarad, gesturing for her to go over to him.

“I have come to bid you farewell once more, Pen-ii.”

Understanding ‘navaer’ well enough, she could not hide the disappointment in her face though she tried her damnedest to.

Halbarad smiled ruefully, “Pen-ii, you cannot get too dependent on me. You are finding your own feet here. Besides,” he looked at her, “I do not want to give you the wrong impression.” She would not understand him, could not, but it needed to be said.

He had been shocked to hear, yesterday afternoon, of her less than subtle behaviour with Boromir.

It had been Aragorn who had said something. Legolas was with them, and they had seen Penny walking in the distance, see Boromir and suddenly veer off in a completely different direction, blushing furiously.

“She does her best to avoid Boromir, does she not?” Aragorn had said.

“Ah, so you have noticed too?” Legolas had smirked. “So has Boromir.”

Legolas was not inclined to divulge what he knew, but when Aragorn jokingly said something about ‘it’s as if she has some infatuation for him’ Legolas found it hard to keep his face entirely impassive.

Aragorn, chuckling, had then caught Legolas’s eye, seen the expression on his face and gasped, “No! You ARE joking, Legolas?”

Legolas then had little choice but shake his head and, as Aragorn fell about with laughter, explain the whole affair.

Aragorn had found the whole thing nearly as amusing as Legolas clearly did, but Halbarad had been irritated by it. She had risen so much in his estimation that for him to suddenly discover she had been behaving like some idiotic love-sick girl irked him beyond belief.

That evening, as he had watched Penny sitting next to Mireth in a crowd of elves in the Hall of Fire, he had suddenly remembered all that had irritated him about her when he had first met her: her arrogance, her impatience, her utter refusal to behave in a reasonable manner or treat him with anything less than contempt, as well as her sheer wilfulness and bloody-mindedness.

He had watched, too, as Boromir, talking with one of the hobbits, had joined the company she was with and how Penny had, after a few minutes innocuous chatter, left the group entirely to join Legolas, Aragorn and Elrond.

Not before she had cast a surreptitious glance in Boromir’s direction, though.

Halbarad saw it clearly enough but only because he was watching her intently. He found himself muttering a phrase he had not used of Penny since a day or two after they had left Bree: “Stupid bloody woman.”

By the Valar, she had some audacity, he had to give her that. Did she not know who she was fawning over? None other than the eldest son of the Steward – he who ruled in place of the King himself – the Steward of Gondor.

Halbarad stopped himself. What was he thinking? Of course she knew. That just made it even worse. What was she playing at? There was ‘instant physical attraction’ and then there was ‘making a damn fool of yourself’. She was fortunate that, as far as Halbarad knew, only a small number of people were aware of it. That Boromir knew was bad enough, though. He shook his head. Unbelievable.

In a way it had made the inevitable leaving of Imladris all the easier for him. She had no need of him any more, that much was certain. Not that he had entertained any thoughts of her in that regard, but it still hit home that he, really, knew nothing about her, that any friendship he felt for her was based on the trauma she had been through with only him to lean on and nothing more.

As he sat there that night, still watching her, he remembered her distress, her terror, her near madness as it had seemed to him then. Yes, she had needed him. Needed him and been grateful for him even in the midst of her raging at him. Now, it seemed, she was so at home she could make eyes at the sons of near princes with impunity. Halbarad’s eyes narrowed. She needed a damn good slap, he thought to himself.

It was not the first time he had thought THAT, either.

“I am leaving Imladris,” he was now saying to her as he stood by the paddock fence. “As I told you I must. I thought I should bid you farewell.”

Penny was picking something up from him. Some vibe. As if he was pissed off with her. She had noticed it yesterday a little as well. He had not been quite so warm with her or as friendly over supper, nor this morning at breakfast. In fact at breakfast he had barely said two words to her and had very deliberately ignored her to the best of his ability. Or at least that was how it had felt at the time.

She wondered if she had done some massive social ‘faux-pas’ yet again (it would not surprise her if she had) or if this was just him brooding on the things he had to do or even Aragorn heading South. His good friend (best friend perhaps?) was, for all Halbarad knew, facing certain death by walking into Mordor with the One Ring. That could not be easy for him.

‘About as easy as knowing you will go to Rohan in a couple of months and not come back, I suppose,’ Penny thought to herself.

“Halbarad is everything okay? Are you upset with me?”

He did not understand her question and there was no way she knew of making herself understood. The concern in her eyes, though, told him enough to guess near enough what she was asking. He did not reply.

Penny could have sworn his eyes flashed and narrowed a little. She was suddenly reminded of how he had been in moments of irritation and rage in Bree. Back then she would have laughed in his face at his ridiculousness. Now...

Bloody hell, what HAD she done?

Before she could ask or say anything more he nodded and, with a fairly curt ‘Navaer’, he was gone. Penny watched his retreating form and felt tears prick her eyes. He had not even commented on her riding. Not once.

As she turned the horse and went back to her lesson she could feel her annoyance building. It was as if a black cloud had settled over her. The fact that she was ‘due’ tomorrow or the next day did not help her peevishness.

God, he was an irritable sod! Every time she thought he was a pleasant enough guy, a good friend, someone she could think of as her rock and someone she could turn to, he managed to utterly piss her off or prove her wrong.

She was aware her teeth were grinding. She glanced up to see Lindir was regarding her with some interest. “Oh bog off, Lindir,” she muttered to herself, “You are the last thing I need right at this moment.”

As soon as her lesson finished she ran down the path to the gate, hoping he might still be here, that she could find out what was going on. He had explained to her, with Gandalf’s help, of course, that Rangers often called in to Rivendell to let Elrond know what was happening. Gildor called occasionally too. Halbarad had explained that Gildor had been with him when they had first seen her. She had not quite known how to deal with that piece of information. Anyway, the point was that she knew that it was likely she would see him again before...

She could hear talking as she drew nearer through the trees. Then she saw them: Aragorn, Halbarad, Gandalf and Elrond.

Gandalf and Elrond were standing back a little, side by side, but Aragorn and Halbarad were talking quietly, earnestly. Penny slowed, then stopped, as she watched Halbarad clasp Aragorn’s forearm with his hand and then Aragorn pull Halbarad into an embrace for a few moments as they patted each others’ backs.

She should not be here. It was not her place to intervene in this.

Her throat tightened, and not just from the touching scene she had witnessed, the shared moment of comradeship between the two who, as far as they knew, may not see each other ever again. She was desperately sad that Halbarad was leaving while upset with her about something. She did not even know why, or what she could do about it either. There was no way she would be able to speak to him in front of the others as it was.

She turned and walked back towards the halls as quietly as she could.

Elrond had glanced up in her direction, seen her arrive, hesitate and then turn without a word towards the halls. Gandalf too at noticed her approach and retreat.

“Pen-ii,” Elrond called to her.

She stopped, not turning round at first and muttered a curse under her breath. When she did turn, Elrond was beckoning her over to them. As she joined them she was apologetic.

“I did not mean to intrude, only to say goodbye properly.”

Halbarad’s face showed nothing, though it was clear to the three males, who knew him very well indeed, that he was being quite cool and stiff as he nodded his head to her, with the barest, thinnest of smiles.

“Navaer, Pen-ii.”

That was all he said.

He turned the horse, raising his hand in farewell to Elrond, Gandalf and Aragorn, and headed down the path to the gate.

Penny realised she had been snubbed. Not only that, she had been snubbed with Elrond, Gandalf and Aragorn as witnesses. Her cheeks flushed in anger and shame. What on earth had she done to deserve this? She was mortified and distressed. She could not let him go like this. She simply could not.

As she stood there in shock and bewilderment, a thought occurred to her. If he was THAT pissed off with her he might deliberately avoid coming to Rivendell and she might never see him again.

That settled it. She ran after him.

“Halbarad! Wait!”

He was quite some way down the path, passing through the gate. He did not stop his horse. He could not be doing with her. She was stupid, childish and clearly not worth the effort he had expended on her. Let Elrond deal with her and her ridiculous behaviour. He had had enough of her.

“Halbarad! Please! Halbarad!”

He gritted his teeth, stopped his horse and turned.

“Yes!”

“Aragorn, why would Halbarad be angry with Lady Pen-ii? Did he say anything to you?” Gandalf’s voice was quiet, his expression thoughtful as they watched this little scene just beyond the gates unfold.

Aragorn’s brow furrowed. “No. I do not know what this is about.” He paused. “Unless...”

“Unless?”

“Well, he was less than amused to discover she had been mooning over Boromir.” Aragorn smirked. “Personally I think it amusing, if extraordinary. She never fails to entertain, does she? Erestor told me about the river incident as well.” He chuckled.

Gandalf’s eyebrows had raised a little as Aragorn had spoken. “How did you know about Boromir?”

“Ah, well her behaviour has been fairly obvious. I noticed it, mentioned it to Legolas and the expression on his face told Halbarad and me all we needed to know. He then explained what had occurred between you all when she had actually admitted it. As I say, Halbarad did not seem to find it nearly as amusing as Legolas and I.”

Gandalf nodded. He exchanged a glance with Elrond.

“In which case I think we had best leave them to it. This will not be a scene either will wish to have witnessed, I imagine.”

Elrond and Aragorn followed Gandalf through the trees back to the halls.

Penny came to stand beside the horse, looking up at Halbarad. The look in his eye was hard and cold.

“Halbarad, please. What have I done? Please, tell me. Why are you angry with me?”

He sat in the saddle, impassive, not even bothering to respond to what he clearly did not understand. He wondered how much time would be wasted before he could leave her, no doubt snivelling and hollering at him, and get on his way.

She said in Sindarin, “Why you...?” and then furrowed her brows and tried to look cross.

He understood that. He looked at her for a minute or two wondering whether it was worth saying anything or not. She would not understand him so there seemed little point, but then if she really could not see how outrageous her behaviour had been, then it would be his pleasure to tell her.

“Why am I angry? I am not angry, Pen-ii. Far from it. I am disappointed, I suppose. Disappointed and saddened. Given what I had seen of how you had changed so much during your stay here I thought I had seen the Pen-ii I had always suspected you might be. You have proved me wrong.”

He could see this was entirely going over her head. He could also see the bewilderment and distress in her face. He sighed in annoyance.

“You fawning over Boromir, Pen-ii. He is the Steward of Gondor’s son. He has been most gracious about it all, I am sure, but I was appalled.”

The colour had drained from Penny’s face. Her voice was very quiet. “Boromir? What about Boromir?”

He could see her breathing had quickened, that she was looking shocked.

“You.” Halbarad said. Then he patted his chest above his heart. “Boromir.”

For a moment Penny could not believe what she was hearing. Her eyes filled with tears. Keeping one hand on the horse’s neck she turned away from Halbarad slightly with a sob.

Her mind was reeling. What was she going to do? He was the only one to have reacted so strongly, so angrily. She could not bear the idea of him being upset with her, or even her not seeing him again, and yet how could she possibly explain this?

She turned to look at him. He could see the tears already streaming down her face. He guessed she was at this moment too upset to speak because he could see her struggling to even keep her sobs under control. He was glaring at her. He was all the more irritated by her now making such a scene about it all.

“Halbarad, I... It’s not what you think. You have to believe me Halbarad. Please. I cannot tell you, but... it’s not what you think.”

There was something in her tone: the despair, the agony, and the clear pleading that made Halbarad look at her more closely. What was going on?

“Pen-ii?”

They looked at each other for a moment. Penny glanced back in the direction of the halls, saw that they were, in fact, alone now, and made a decision.

She said, in Sindarin, “Not I love Boromir, Halbarad.” Her voice broke as she said it, the tears falling fast.

Halbarad was staring at her, his face serious, his voice quiet and threatening. “What are you talking about, Pen-ii? You said to Elrond, Erestor, Gandalf and Legolas that you found him attractive.”

She had understood enough to know what he had said. She looked at him and repeated, “Not I love Boromir, Halbarad.”

“Elbereth, Pen-ii! Either you are lying to me now or you have lied to four noble people each one worth more than you could ever be. Either way I am less than impressed, Pen-ii. I have had enough of this. I am going.”

He moved his horse forward only for her to say, in Sindarin, “Stop, Halbarad. Please!”

He did stop and, breathing hard in his irritation, glared at her.

She took a few breaths, looked him in the face and said the Sindarin for ‘two’ and ‘month’, then “Boromir” and “yrch,” and then she reached up behind Halbarad to touch the base of his quiver. She then tapped her chest several times, as if hit by arrows.

She wept as she looked at him, never taking her eyes off him, hoping and praying that he had finally understood her.

He had.

He stared at her in disbelief.

Suddenly he realised. He realised why she had tried to avoid Boromir, why she had been left little option but lie when confronted by Legolas. In that instant the sheer enormity of the kind of foreknowledge she had hit home to him. They had known she knew the outcome, the events that would take place. It had occurred to Halbarad that she would know who would die, but he had not stopped to consider what that knowledge would be like for her to deal with, let alone imagined it would be people she would get to know so intimately. Though, of course, it had always been a possibility.

He also realised that she would have only told him this because she knew that, since he was leaving and would not be back before the Nine Walkers left, there was no danger in him having this information. He realised that otherwise she would have been forced to lie to him as well, even though she would have known she might lose his friendship in doing so.

Without a word he got down from the horse, stood in front of her for a moment, and then put his arms about her shoulders and let her weep into his chest.

They stayed like that for several minutes.

At last she calmed and he pulled back to look down at her. “Ai, Pen-ii. Forgive me. I understand now. I am sorry.”

She nodded but said nothing.

As he looked at her Halbarad realised how vulnerable she was, even now, even though she was among his friends and was being well looked after. The knowledge she had was a terrible burden. Then and there he resolved to look after her, one way or another. Even after the war he would be her protector and friend.

“I have to go, Pen-ii. But do not fear, I shall be back as soon as I may to see how you are faring.”

She smiled at him, thinly, and he turned to climb into his saddle. Then he looked at her, holding his hand out for hers. She took it and smiled up at him.

“May Elbereth make you strong enough to cope with your burden, Pen-ii.”

“May Elbereth protect you, Halbarad.”

He smiled, squeezed her hand as he murmured ‘navaer’ and then moved off through the trees.

Just before he came to a bend in the path, he turned, saw her still standing there watching him leave, raised his hand in farewell and then was lost from her sight as he disappeared under the trees.

navaer - farewell