The Hills of Evendim RPG

[Alatariel Telemnar]

Finëwen stood there watching all the others. There was not much she could say. What would she say? Everybody else seemed to be handling things well. Or from what she understood. Everything seemed to have gone by in one big blur and it was only getting blurrier. She listened to them speaking, about Lira. She glanced at Lira. Dying, seemed like a wonderful thing. Finëwen had always hoped to die in honour.

Well, it seemed as if their task was nearly over. Wondering what lay ahead of her after this trip, Finëwen continued to listen, half paying attention, though for a moment it seemed as silence had overtaken the group. Mourning for those lost, Finëwen assumed.

[littlemanpoet]

Falowik helped Eodwine find clothes off the tallest guard corpse. The shirt had a hole at the heart, from the arrow that had pierced it, but it would have to do.

Next, the party found a stretcher packed away in a store-room, doubtless used by the guards to haul the leeched corpses away. They cleaned it, and placed it next to Lira, and carefully moved her onto it.

Through these things happened, Eodwine met and befriended most of the party: as well as Thoronmir, Falowik, and Falco, he met bright Lumiel, and dark and powerful Eswen, and Furman the former guard of the Master. Eodwine paid close attention to Furman at first, and decided that this one had done much to aid in his own rescue, and in the downfall of Herugor, and maybe had paid his debts at least in part. He would be given no ill treatment from Eodwine.

One other kept to herself, but Eodwine noticed her. She had made herself useful as much as she could, but she never smiled, and seemed to keep herself apart from the party as much as the others included her.

After they had carried Lira out of the fortress and walked around the hill to the car, and laid her on it, he walked over to the silent girl.

"Who is this silent beauty?"

The girl looked about her and saw no one else to whom his question could be addressed, or to whom he could refer.

"I am called Finëwen, sir." She looked up at him briefly, then looked away, as if she could not find the right thing to do with her hands; one finally came to rest on her sword hilt, the other chafed at dirt that was not there on her trousers.

"Call me Eodwine, Finëwen. The party is about to move out. Will you walk with me?"

Surprise was in her eyes. She nodded, and they began to follow the wagon. Eodwine asked her how she had become involved in the adventure, and through fits and starts of slow speech, over the course of many hours, he had her story from her, and began to relate his own.

[littlemanpoet]

Uien blinked and sighed. She looked about her. The wet rag lay limp and crushed in her hand. Gorby and Anson watched her with wide eyes, full of worry. She smiled briefly.

"They have saved Eodwine, and the Master is no more."

Their jaws dropped, then they grinned, got up, and did a little Hobbit jig arm in arm before sitting down. Anson was first to speak.

"Then why are you yet sad, Uien? Is Falowik dead?"

She smiled again. "No. Falowik has survived. All but one have survived. Lira is dead." With mention of her name, tears flowed again from Uien's eyes. "I am sorry." Uien reached out and smoothed the hair on both the Hobbits' heads, for they were wiping their eyes. Lira had been their special friend, and it was only right that they should mourn.

[Esgallhugwen]

In a blur it all seemed done. The Hobbit Falco had saved the day, it wasn't the first time one of the Little Folk had done so and it surely wasn't going to be the last.

As Esgallhugwen turned to Lira a soft whisper came to her ear; Mellon, may the grace of the Valar protect and strengthen you. There eyes met for one brief moment, Eswen's still and sad, but Lira's gaze was filled with a light, she would finally be at peace.

She kissed Esgallhugwen on the brow and departed from the land of Middle- Earth to the Halls of Mandos.

They had found a stretcher in the back and gently lifted Lira onto it, they carried her out of the fortress and layed her on the cart that stood around the hill. Eswen led Morsereg up with the rest of the company.

When the large black horse saw the blonde Elf he whinnied mournfully and nuzzled her hand affectionately. Esgallhugwen sighed and pulled out the Elvish blanket from her saddle bag, the one she used to keep the wolf cub warm.

In a ceremonial manner she laid it down across her friend, the grey clouds that were once black drifted away and a beam of sunlight broke through making the silver and gold thread sewn into the blanket glisten.

The dark haired Elf mounted her horse and followed behind the wagon. Esgallhugwen barely spoke and had only done so when she introduced herself to Eodwine as politely as she good despite the pain that was eating away at her.

The loss of another one she cared about was almost to much to bear, ever since their first meeting at the Green Dragon Inn, Lira had been so kind despite Esgallhugwen's apparent unfriendliness.

She had tried so hard to heal the wounds within me, she believed that I still had goodness, she believed in the goodness of everything and everyone.

Esgallhugwen looked ahead of her but her eyes began to cloud.

Yes mellon, and now she can rest from all her toils, away from the pain that you feel you caused, but that is not so, be glad and cherish that memory of companionship, hold dear the fact that there is still hope for you!

There is still hope for me in any of this?

Of course, there is much you have yet to accomplish, do not be burdened by false guilt, remember the words of Lira.

She lowered her head and clenched her eyes, crystaline tears fell down her pale cheeks. Her grey eyes looked up to the clearing sky, a rainbow could be seen stretching across the hills.

The voice at first was low and barely audible except to Lumiel, then it began to grow first slowly, gaining strength. It soared over the hills like an eagle or a swan.

The voice was haunting and beautiful, singing in the Elvish tongue:

A Lament for Lira

~*~

Nairë an Lira

Lira Nen yassen si lei nórë?
Là andavë sé Eryn Lasgalen var vanima Ithilien
Lei dolce óma nira là na hlarë sé questi nórë ata

Mi ormë rauma mandë denominato lei
Ai! Quello lei hroa era rácina sé quello úro nómë
Quello lei Fëa era incarcerato mi ungo
Sé i mórnië i carnë rauco é venuto mal lei sfidato a lui

A! Elbereth Gilthoniel!
silvren penna miriel
o menel aglar elenath,
Gilthoniel, A! Elbereth!

Lei órë era silmë ar isilmë
Lei rinunciato ambar quando àra ortanë

Ràsa chiamate, ninquë falassë a laica campi
Tinda a laurë fiori ondeggiamento mi ëar hwesta
Lindo lindë di lúcë

Mai fare lei mírë hen na vaxë lacrimenen
Lei fare nyényë lá lillor nyérë sé firima nórë
Lá lil fare lei sentire i nwalya di anqualë

Sérë sé sacro Aman, melda Lira
Sérë si oallo i móta di Endor
Mi nórë di oira lómë

[Imladris]

Lira dead. But...but...she was an elf. She could not die...elves did not die. They were quick, swift with their arm and keen of eye. No, no...it could not be true. I brought my eyes to Uien's face and I said, "How did she die?"

"She fell, from the roof. Whether by strange magic or by accident the roof caved and she broke her neck upon the stone floor." Uien brow wrinkled and a silent tear slipped from her eye.

Not only had Lira died she had died by freak accident. I shook my head. It did not end like this. If she had died she should have died in glory and splendor, by either throwing herself in front of an arrow to save another or in combat. That was how it always ended in the tales.

But tales always lied to you. I kicked at a stone and watched it trip across the uneven surface of the grounds. But wait...hadn't King Theoden of Rohan died from an accident as well? I thought. Killed by his own horse, wasn't he? Pity...why did so many brave men have to die in such a...a...an awful way? It wasn't right...they deserved better.

Truth be told, they deserved to live, but if they had to die could they not have died killing their enemies? Why did they have to die by accidents?

And Lira...she was so ugly in a darling way. Her voice -- that beautiful, water like voice that could cheer me up and comfort me on the dark nights. Gone. All gone.

I buried my head in my arms and sobbed.

[littlemanpoet]

The wagon passed through the parted doors of the north gate of the settlement. The way was lined three deep with onlookers, eager to see who returned, and with what news. Uien's words had traveled quickly across the settlement, and those gathered craned their necks to see if what she had said was so.

Furman drove the wagon. His head was held high and his eyes were clear of shame. His words had proven true, and through his aid, Herugor had been defeated, his evil ended, and the prisoners set free.

Eodwine sat next to him, beaming to see the familiar faces of the friends he had made among the freed men in the settlement. A hue and cry of welcome went up as he waved to them.

Falco stood behind Eodwine, his hand resting on the man's shoulder, so that he could see all the hubbub, as he had put it. Big people could be big trouble, but they were not so bad, for all that. Falco was beginning to like adventure. The borders of the Shire were beginning to feel close.

Behind Falco lay the body of Lira, surrounded now by wildflowers from the hills nearby, picked fresh by Lumiel, Eswen, Finëwen, and Falowik. The crowd quieted as they saw the Elven maiden's corpse, unmarked by any wound, her head propped by blankets so as not to roll where the spine had been broken.

Lumiel rode on Lira's right, and Eswen on her left. Falowik rode directly behind, riding Eodwine's chestnut charger, Fleethaf. Riding alongside him was Finëwen. Falowik looked for Uien in the crowd but did not find her. Thoronmir and Awyrgan came last.

They wagon stopped in the center of the settlement, before a pavilion that Uien had asked to be made. It was made of leather, for the hide of cattle was the best covering to be had in the hills. A bed had been made in the pavilion. Uien stood with Gorby and Anson before the pavilion.

Eswen, Lumiel, Falowik, Thoronmir, and Finëwen lifted Lira's body from the wagon, and laid her on the bed beneath the pavilion. Uien, Gorby, Anson, and Falco walked behind them, and they surrounded her. The three Elven women lifted their voices in an Elvish lament for Lira. Finëwen joined them, for she knew the words, having been raised in Rivendell. The men listened, quiet. For his part, Falowik felt that he saw a green country filled with light. He knew that Lira would be happy there.

Her body rested in the pavilion until the Elves took her away.

The crowd parted. Eodwine joined his old settlement friends, and they heard his tale. The Rangers had the tale from Thoronmir and Awyrgan. The guards who had served under Herugor had it from Furman. Lumiel and Eswen walked by the shore of the Lake and spoke together; no one heard what they said. Falco seemed much friendlier than he had in the past, and Gorby and Anson welcomed his tale, and had to cajole his own heroics out of him, and slapped him on the back when they learned that it was his knife that had cut the Master. Finëwen sat outside the immediate crowd gathered around Eodwine, and seemed willing to listen.

Uien and Falowik walked to the Lake's shore and passed by Lumiel and Eswen. Eswen's wolf cub came by to sniff their hands, then returned to her as the two kept walking. They walked until the sun set, then walked back again.

The pavilion was left unguarded, except by a crow who perched on the strongest pole. Its voice sounded almost human when it cawed.

[littlemanpoet]

When they came through the gate, Falowik searched the crowd. She was not there. He smiled at the cheering crowd. When they quieted in respect for Lira, Falowik allowed his expression to come more in line with the sombreness that had been with him since the day had begun. Looking ahead, he saw the pavilion that had been erected.

Uien was standing there, his lodestone. He would never try to explain what that meant to any but her. It was not that he felt such a strong love for her, though that was true. Whatever place she was in, that place was the magnet of his life. It could not be explained, it simply was.

When they stopped, his eyes were on her alone, even as he dismounted. Hers were on him, and there was relief in her eyes. He helped to carry and lay Lira's body on the bed in the pavilion. Then they stood there, and Falowik's heart was slain by the beauty of the lament the women sang. He thought of all the things he remembered of Lira, for the song seemed to draw the memories from the depths of his mind. She had been a good friend, uncomplaining and loyal, and had fought for the cause even beyond her death. Lira would forever hold an honored place in his memory. Farewell, friend. May it be well with you in that far country.

The song was ended. The crowd dispersed. Uien remained standing, looking upon the form of Lira in repose, beautiful now in her final sleep. Falowik came to Uien's side and waited. At last she took his hand in hers, and they walked beyond the settlement gate and to the shore of the Lake, waving to Lumiel and Eswen as the sun lowered toward the horizon of the Hills to the west of Lake Evendim. They walked for a long time and spoke little. Falowik was at peace, his heart full with Uien walking beside him.

They stopped at last far down the lakeshore as the stars appeared.

"Where shall we go now, fair one?"

She looked at him, her eyes large and luminous, reflecting the light of the brightening stars.

"I have thought of accompanying the Elves as they return Lira's body to Eryn Lasgalen, but the passes of Ered Mithrin are an evil to me, and I would not go that way again, Lauréatan."

"I do not care where we go, as long as we go together."

Uien smiled. "That is as I would have it, my love."

He took her in his arms and they watched the stars for a long time, exchanging few words before they started back to the settlement.

[Esgallhugwen]

After Lumiel, Uien, Finëwen and Eswen had ended the lament they all seperated from the pavilion to sit by the fire or walk by the lake. Esgallhugwen and Lumiel chose to share their thoughts and reflections by Lake Evendim; the weather had calmed and dusk was approaching.

"Mellon", Lumiel said softly, "I know the loss of Lira is dark and troubling for you as it is for us all, but is there something else burdening you?"

Esgallhugwen looked up at the darkening hills wet from the rain "I cannot help but feel as if her death was my doing, when I heard that this journey needed members for a company I urged her to go with me, so that we may learn more of each other to strengthen the bonds of our frienship. She tried to help me, to relieve the evil memories within me and I brought doom upon her. Now she lies dead in that pavilion awaiting burial", her gaze returned to Lumiel.

Lumiel smiled gently "You forget Eswen, it was Lira's choosing whether to go with you or whether to stay behind, she chose her path; you must accept that she is gone".

Esgallhugwen nodded, she knew Lira would be at peace in Valinor.

The sun was below the horizon, only a faint glow remained; Lumiel left Eswen to her thoughts and returned to the camp. With the wolf cub at her side she sat down by the lake and gazed into the dark waters lapping at the shore.

[Nurumaiel]

Anson slowly ceased to weep and became as pale and silent as the stars that shone down on him. Always before the stars had been warm and twinkling and merry. Now they were so cold and distant, so rigid...

He got to his feet, and Gorby followed his example. Anson touched Lira's cheek, then one of the flowers on the wreath. He stood indescisive for a moment, and then he gently took one of the flowers from her hair. He drew in its sweet scent and gazed thoughtfully at it. "What a sweet flower," he murmured. "'Tis a pity it will fade... not like Lira. She was a flower, sweeter-scented than any, but she cannot fade." He put the little flower into his breast-pocket and put his hand over it, holding the flower close to him. "May you ever blossom in my heart, Lira," he said quietly. A little smile flickered across his face. "But you can't do anything about it. I'll make you bloom forth, whether you desire to or not." The smiled disappeared; his lower lip trembled, but he drew a deep shuddering breath and kept his composure. Stooping down, he pressed his lips to her hair. "Goodbye, Lira."

He stepped back. Gorby did nothing but take his hand in a comforting way. Anson stood there, gazing upon the beautiful face for a moment more before he turned to Gorby. "Come, let's go by the fire," he said. "I'm cold and tired. I would like some sleep. I think we shall say farewell to Lira once more before we return to our Shire." They left the pavilion together, still holding hands. They were yet the old playmates they had been, but a new bond was between them, a deeper bond. Anson recalled it with a brief smile and, gripping Gorby's hand tightly, murmured, "Dear friend and brother of mine, thank you."

[littlemanpoet]

"Ah, but you must have something for you after this, eh?" Finëwen asked Eodwine.

"May I?" he asked, gesturing to the seat beside her. She nodded and he sat. "I am a messenger to the King of Rohan. I shall return to Edoras and give King Eomer news of what has happened here. Then the King shall give me a new task. That is all. Before that, I will stop at Bree, and then the Stonebow Inn, and celebrate the fall of Herugor with those who will be happy to hear such news. But that is all."

"That seems much to me!" Finëwen said.

"Not as much as there was once, fifteen long years ago. I lost my wife and children in the War. I have made what I could of my lot since then, but I - I miss them." Eodwine's fists clenched. "As much today as I did fifteen years ago."

"I am sorry."

Eodwine smiled. "Thank you." His brow creased. "But you see nothing for yourself? Then come with me to Rohan. As a friend. Have you ever been there?"

[Alatariel Telemnar]

'But you see nothing for yourself? Then come with me to Rohan. As a friend. Have you ever been there?'

'No, I haven't. But I'd love to go. And now the opportunity is upon me, so I shall go with you, as a friend,' Finëwen said. She was not sure what to think. She now knew what she was doing after they finished their task. But if anything was there for her in Rohan, she was not certain.

[littlemanpoet]

"No, I have not. But I would love to go. And now the chance is upon me, so I shall go with you, as a friend."

Eodwine smiled and rose, and Finëwen followed suit. He extended his hand.

"I will be honored to have your friendship on the road, Finëwen."

She took his hand in hers and they shook.

Eodwine's eyes left hers to look at a couple coming in through the south gate. "Someone comes that I would speak to. I bid you good night, Finëwen."

"Good night, Eodwine of Rohan."

She left him and walked to the bunk house in which she had made her bed. Eodwine waved at the couple.

Falowik waved back.

"Eodwine greets us," he said to Uien.

"Give him greeting for me. I would go and speak to Eswen and Lumiel."

"Good night, my fair one."

Smiling, she reached up and traced the line of his jaw, stepped to him, and kissed him once. "Good night, Lauréatan." Her eyes were filled with the light of the stars, and Falowik felt the world shift as she walked away, taking his heart with her, remaining with her at the core of the world. He would never speak of such things to anyone, for they would think him moonstruck. And this was not far off, for he thought that he had been struck, not by the moon but by the love of an Elven woman, who was his Valinor, if such a thing could be.

When she disappeared from view, a hundred paces away, passing into one of the bunk houses, he turned and walked up to Eodwine. They greeted each other and sat by the fire.

"I see, friend Falowik, how you look at the one called Uien."

"Aye. I cannot help myself, nor care to." He grinned.

"It is a fine thing! It was so for me once, years ago."

"I would hear of it if you care to talk of it."

Eodwine shook his head, smiling ruefully. "Maybe another time, for I think our paths run together for a while yet. But tell me how you came to know of Uien."

Falowik related the tale of the night and following day when Uien had begun as a stranger and become so quickly the holder of his heart.

"But one thing troubles me, Eodwine. I have heard the tales of Beren and Luthien, and now lately of Elessar and Arwen, and for a man to love an Elven woman is a high thing, too high for me! She has told me that she has given her heart to me, which whelms me like a great flood! But I cannot hold her to it. It is not right of me to hold her love, and for her to lose me some day to death, and to live in grief for the rest of her days, which may not have an end for thousands of years!"

"My friend," said Eodwine, "it is well that you think of her fate in this, but there is one thing that you may not know, having lived in the wilds for so many years. The Third Age of the world is over. The fate of the Elves is changed. Those who have chosen not to cross over the sea, have turned from the hope of Valinor in the west, and have married their fate to Middle Earth. The old Law that forbade union of Man to Elf is passed."

"That the Law no more forbids it does not make it a good thing."

"No, you are right. But there is more. As I have heard it from the wise in Gondor, and from Elves who remain, those Elves who remain in Middle Earth will join more and more with wood and leaf and field and lake, and become ever more like them. Some few may join with humans, and become ever more like us. So it seems that you may love Uien freely, and that both of you will become more like the other. Who knows? Maybe you shall have longer years because of it, but that is just a guess."

"I will not hope for it. But if Uien knows this, and has married her fate to me, then I will not deny her the choice she has made, for I do love her and would spend the rest of my days with her."

"Then love her well, my friend."