Chapter 5

Pretty Blue Eyes

Gondor: F.A. 76, S. R. 21497

            A gentle breeze teased the curtains, carrying the scent of lilac into the chamber. A large, ornately carved bed dominated the small room; its lone occupant commanding the silent attention of those present.

            A small sigh escaped the aged lips, and a slender hand reached out to smooth curls from a deeply creased brow. Legolas turned to the woman beside him. “He is nearly spent. Go; find Aragorn and tell him it is time.” She nodded and slipped silently from the room.

            “Do you hear that, Merry? Strider’s coming. You have to stay with us just a little longer,” Pippin urged, taking his friend's hand and folding it between his own wrinkled fingers.

            “I’m not going anywhere yet, Pip,” came the weary reply. Merry’s brown eyes twinkled up at his cousin, and then turned to the Elf. “Now I understand what you meant, all those years ago,” he said.

            Legolas arched a delicate eyebrow. “What do you mean?” 

            “Our conversation in Hollin. Do you remember? I asked why you were there; and you said something about ‘pretty blue eyes’?”

            “Ah, yes. I did not realize you heard me. If I had known you were that curious about it, I would have introduced you sooner.”

            “That’s alright. Will she go with you, when you sail? Frodo should meet her.”

            The Elf smiled. “I think she may, though that choice is yet some time away. So long as my friends linger here, so will I.”

            “Oh good. I would not have all my friends leave me before my reign is done,” said a voice from the doorway.

            “Nor would I let him go without me,” added a gruff voice.

            “Strider! Gimli!” Merry tried to sit up, but at 115 years old, his body no longer had the strength for it.

            Legolas quickly switched places with Aragorn. Older even than the Hobbit, the King of Gondor was yet a magnificent figure, though his hair had silvered and care traced deep lines in his face. “Easy, Merry. Just rest now, my friend. We are all here.” Aragorn placed a hand on Merry’s forehead, and the Hobbit relaxed back into his pillows, his eyes drifting shut.

            Pippin sighed. “He’s right you know, Legolas. Frodo really does need to meet her.”

            Legolas chuckled at Aragorn and Gimli’s puzzled faces. “Lissantiel.” He explained.

            “Ah.” Aragorn nodded.

            “If Frodo is still alive when we reach the Lonely Isle, Pippin, I will make certain they are introduced, I promise you,” Legolas vowed, one hand over his heart.

            “Good.” Pippin turned to look at his cousin and sighed again. The sound was so full of sorrow that Legolas moved to sit beside him on the edge of the bed. The Elf gently squeezed the old Hobbit’s shoulder.

            “What is troubling you, Master Hobbit? Can’t stand Merry leaving you behind?” Gimli asked with a teasing smile, settling himself in the chair opposite Aragorn.

            Pippin’s eyes welled with tears, and he blinked furiously to keep them at bay. “It’s not that. I know it won’t be long before I follow him. But, before too long, we all will go to a place Legolas and Gandalf can not come. Our Fellowship cannot ever be together again.” A tear escaped to trickle down his cheek, and Legolas gathered Pippin close.

            “Of course it can, you silly Took,” Merry said softly. “You know that.” The fragileness of his voice alarmed Aragorn, who exchanged a glance with Legolas.

            “He’s right. At the end of all things, when the world is broken and made new, we will be together. In the meantime, we must wait, and hope,” said the Elf.

            Pippin sniffed and offered a wavy smile. “I’d rather just go with you now, Merry, and avoid the waiting altogether.”

            “I know, Pip, but you have to stay here and keep these three out of trouble for a little while yet.” Merry smiled. “I’ll be waiting for you, don’t worry. Legolas? Will you sing for us? I’m in need of ‘a bit of song’ as Sam used to say.”

            “Of course, Merry.” Th Elf's voice filled the chamber, singing of joyful reunion at world’s end. But before he could finish, the Fellowship in Middle Earth was minus one more member.

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Tol Erreseä: F.A. 120, S.R. 1541

            A gentle breeze carried the sharp scent of sea salt to two ancient Hobbits waiting on a wooden pier. The wind that played with Frodo’s curls filled the sails just appearing on the horizon, speeding the grey ship towards them.

            “Do you think they have changed a great deal?” Frodo asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

            “Changed? Not likely. Well, not much anyway,” Same chuckled. “Gimli will certainly have aged, but I am sure their usual banter is no different.”

            Frodo grinned. “I’ve missed them so much, Sam. I want to hear everything they’ve been up to!”

            A deeper chuckle directly behind them startled the friends. “Doubtless they have plenty of tales to tell.”

            “Gandalf!” Frodo cried. “Have you come to wait with us?”

            The Wizard nodded. “I have plenty of questions myself, and have missed them, the same as you.”

            The Hobbits grinned at him, and they fell into a companionable silence, watching the waves bear their friends ever closer.

            The day drew on, and hundreds of Elves soon gathered behind them. The arrival of any ship from Middle Earth was an exciting event, but the three on the pier were respectfully left alone to be the first to greet it.

            As the ship drew nearer, Frodo and Sam began to make out the faces of those on board. Sam shook his head. “Gimli has gone as grey as we have!” he quipped.

            Frodo laughed and waved at the Dwarf, who raised a hand in greeting. “Sam, who is the woman standing beside Gimli?” Frodo asked, a puzzled frown appearing on his face.

            Sam squinted. “Not sure, sir,” he said. A smile tugging at the corners of his mouth threatened to give him away. “Gandalf?”

            The Wizard shook his head. “We’ll find out soon enough,” he said. Sensing they weren’t telling him something, Frodo frowned at them, but this was a meeting neither Gandalf nor Sam was willing to spoil.

            Shortly thereafter, the ship pulled alongside the pier, and Legolas tossed Gandalf the ropes to hold it fast to the pillars. The sparkle was back in Frodo’s eyes, and he could barely contain himself as a ramp was lowered. At last the Hobbits moved forward to greet first Gimli, then Legolas. After much laughter and many hugs, Legolas turned and beckoned to the two dark haired women waiting patiently behind him. "Frodo, I’d like you to meet my wife, Vanlótë.”

            A slender Elf with deep brown eyes stepped forward, and Frodo bowed. She knelt to give him a hug. “It is an honor to meet you,” she said, giving him a brilliant smile.

            Frodo smiled back. “The honor is mine.”

            “And this is Lissantiel, our daughter,” Legolas said, drawing forward the woman they had glimpsed at the rail.

            “I am pleased to meet you at last, Frodo Baggins,” she said softly, kneeling to greet him.

            When he looked back on their meeting, Frodo knew he really should not have been surprised, but he could not stop the gasp that escaped him then. For Lissantiel had the kindest, prettiest blue eyes Frodo had ever seen, even for an Elf.

The End

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Author’s Note

My sincerest apologizes to all those who have waited months to know the end of this story. Dozens of events conspired to keep me from completing it, not least of which was my own dissatisfaction with the various drafts for the ending. Here it is at last. Thank you all for your kind words of encouragement, and for sticking it out with me. I hope you enjoyed it, and that it wasn’t too predictable. ;) A note on the names I had to create: I’m really not good with the Elvish, so what I came up with was cobbled together from a list of words in a book on the languages Tolkein invented.  So forgive me if I somehow committed a grievous error in making them up. Instruction in that area is always welcome. Vanlótë: fair  blossom     Lissantiel: sweet-mouth

Review response:

Larner: Closer indeed. Now you have your answer. I enjoyed writing that pillow fight. They needed a bit of fun. J I hope you enjoyed it.