The Hills of Evendim RPG

[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.

[Imladris]

Anson beside me, I looked at Lira as she layed upon the bed in the pavilion. I looked at the wreath of wild flowers in my hand and I set them on Lira's cold, white brow: a crown for her unseemly face.

The lament was sad behond words, revealing forgotten memories. I could feel the tears trickle down my cheeks as I remembered her kind forgiveness when I hesitated at the first attack, I remembered every smile, every delightful word that fell from her lips, her beautiful voice that sounded like rushing water. It did not seem fair that she should have died. She was such a beautiful elven lady who lived in a forest...at least, that's what I think she said.

When the song had finished -- though it still sung in my ears, like the lingering scent of rain after a shower, I leaned over the bed, and I took Lira's hand and stroked it. I traced her scar upon her face, and whispered, "Goodbye, Lira." Then I leaned over and kissed her on her smooth forehead.

[Elora]

The day she had longed for, through night and day, joy and turmoil, had come and it was both sweet and solemn. Uien's heart was filled with many things, some difficult to name. Lira's passing was at first a sudden and bitter blow. Yet Uien still held a belief common amongst her kindred. Whilst the event that brought Death could be a terror, a horror beyond all imagining, Death itself was freedom for a while from the troubles of mortal lands. Lira would come, bound ever to the Circles of Arda by Illúvator to that from which the Elves were shaped, to peace in Mandos' Halls beyond the westward seas. For Lira, peace was a treasure she had precious little of here in mortal lands. It was a hard won boon, but a gift nonetheless and Uien's sadness stemmed from the sorrow of those around her and a sense of absence left by her passing into the Halls.

Yet her heart was not full only with such sadness. Uien's heart was filled with many bright things. The one who lit her thoughts and soul so stood with her again. She could not deny that a cold fear had stalked her that never would it be so. That always would she feel that absence, deep within her very being, a loss that not even Mandos' Halls nor the hallowed hill of Tirion or the jewelled shores of Alqualönde could assuage. Gone was the chill, banished with Falowik's words, presence, arms around her. Uien had not the gift of foresight. But hope was alive in her again and whatever the future held, she could face it gladly.

As they walked beneath the deepening twilight, a smile curved Uien's lips and her mind skipped, wandering at what would come. Where would they call home? The answer to that shone bright, already written upon her soul. Home, wherever it would be, was always in Falowik. She looked sideways, studying him through her lashes. He was quiet, wrapped in his own thoughts just as his hand was twined about her own. Soon they would come back to the others. Already the party would be preparing to set out, and they would want to know if any would accompany those escorting Lira to Eryn Lasgalen. Could she dare Ered Mithrin?

The name had lost some its dark power, a great deal, but not all. What if ruin again lay there? Yet deep within her a voice sounded asking a different question. How was to embrace the future with the man she so loved if she remained so enslaved to the past? Surely ruin lay in that. As the settlement came back within bow shot, Uien slowed and took a deep breath. What she was about to say would be the beginning of a path difficult at first, but would not end in woe.

"Beloved Lauréatan, the road our feet walk together will be long," she began slowly, gazing up into Falowik's face. She brushed her fingers down the side of his jaw and smiled. "That I do not doubt. Lira followed us, you, into a perilous place. She did so willingly, and proved to be a companion true and noble. If it be your wish to follow her now to Eryn Lasgalen, then by your side shall I happily be. It is you I embrace. I will remain a prisoner to dark memory no longer."

Falowik's brows rose in surprise, forehead furrowing. Never had he expected to hear her say that she would venture through Ered Mithrin.

"I will not bid you follow me there," he replied, shaking his head gently from side to side.

"I well know it, and that is why I will for my choice is to walk with you, my love, regardless of where it is that we find ourselves. Bree, Eryn Lasgalen, Ered Mithrin, Caras Galadon, the toppled ruins of Barad-Dûr. It matters not anymore."

"It doesn't," Falowik asked, mystified. Uien's smile deepened. "Nay, for I have found the only home I will ever wish for. Long have wandered seeking just that. Feckless would I be to turn away in fear now."

With that, she drew closer and rested her palms upon Falowik's chest over his heart. It's steady beat filtered through her hands and called to her own. Now was not the time to decide, and she knew that also. Falowik had only just arrived. But when it did come time to decide, she would not be the one to draw him from the path that he most wished to take. He was a man of honour, something she had seen in the very first twilight that brought him to her so many evenings ago. If he believed that it was right to escort Lira, then with him she would go. Who knew what would come then? The world was a new place, new lands, and it was theirs to make of it what they would.

[Alatariel Telemnar]

Finëwen enjoyed the time she had spent with Eodwine. It felt nice to talk to someone, for it seemed as if she had talked hardly any at all throughout the trip. She had listened intently with the group as he told his story. Her heart sank with the laments for Lira. It had been until then that she realised how much loosing her had meant to Finëwen. She did not know her well, but she had enjoyed the time she had spent around her.

Everyone seemed to have gone off by themselves or with someone else. Finëwen sighed and began to wonder what was next for her. She played around with the dirt in front of her. Journeys home seem to be always quicker than the journey to your destination. But the journey beyond the journey home seemed to be too far away. Unable to grasp. Finëwen placed her chin in her hand and stared blankly at the ground.

[littlemanpoet]

The gathering broke up and Eodwine remained sitting where he was, near the bonfire that had been built away from the buildings, halfway to the Lake. He allowed his thoughts to wander and stared at the Lake, shimmering in the moonlight, and at the fire, now lowering to a red glow among the burning embers. He looked up across from where he sat, and noticed someone sitting alone, hand in chin. He recognized Finëwen. Ever alone, it seemed. He got up and walked over to her, his steps quiet.

"Forgive me for speaking if you would rather be left alone, but I wonder what you are thinking, looking so wistful."

Finëwen had started at first, apparently unaware of his presence. Now, in the dim light of the fire, she seemed embarrassed to have been found out. Her mouth opened as she looked up at him. He waited for her to speak.

[Nurumaiel]

Anson sat alone, silent and stiff, gazing into the night. The journey was over. All that remained now was to go back home. Back home to his family, his dear family, his dear home. Where was the joy and happiness he had expected? What was this great weariness that slipped over him, engulfing him, weighing him down and crushing him into the earth? Afternoon tea... How often he had thought on that during their journey, and missed it. What a simple little thing it was, and what peace and contentment and joy it brought. No more. The simple things contained joy no more. Only a weariness.

Lira's face, pale and beautiful in death. He had stood apart from the others, not going close to her. He was afraid. It felt like the end of all things with Lira gone. He hadn't even looked at Gorby. Dear Gorby, who had stayed with him even when he longed to go with the others. Dear Gorby, what pain he must be feeling now! How much he had loved Lira. They had all loved Lira. Nobody knew how much Anson had cared for her. Elf though she was, she was as dear as a sister to him. She had been as a mother to him when his own mother had been so far away. The pain of her passing was deep. It was too deep. Life could not be lived.

He stood from where he had been sitting upon the ground and moved towards the pavilion. He slipped in gently, softly approaching the bed on which she lay. She was just as she had been before, silent, pale, and fair. She had always been fair. What peace was on her features! The wreath Gorby had placed on her head still crowned her lovely hair. He touched her hair gently, marvelling at its beauty. Tears were rushing unbidden to his eyes, tears that did not come through the songs of lament. He let them fall as he looked upon her face, and his heart burned cold with grief.

"Lira, Lira, why did you die?" he murmured through the sobs that racked his body. "I needed you to be my friend and sister all my life. My father doesn't care for me. He doesn't understand me. I always make him unhappy. But you understood me. Did I make you unhappy? But you made me so happy. You didn't think I was a fool because I was scared and timid, but you let your bravery stand as a shield for me." He sat down on the ground next to her bed in great weariness. "Oh, Lira, I have no one to protect me now."

An arm went about his shaking shoulderes; someone sat down beside him. A curly head pressed against his own and a comforting pair of eyes looked into his own. "Dear Anson, don't you know I'm going to protect you?" a voice said softly. "We've always been friends, haven't we? Lira's gone, and I know it hurts you. It hurts me too. But you aren't alone. I'll take care of you." It was Gorby, dear Gorby who had always been like an older brother, ever since they were children. Anson felt like a child again. He put his head on Gorby's shoulder and wept. How many times had Anson been the comforter to his younger brothers and sisters, and now how sweet it was to be the one comforted.

"Gorby," Anson choked through his sobs, "I wish I were dead."

"Hush, hush," said Gorby. "You don't really, Anson. Don't you want to go back to the Shire? To the green fields and the merry dancing at the inns?"

"Such things hold no joy any longer. I can never be happy again."

Gorby blinked away some tears. He understood. "It's all right, Anson," he said. "We both weep over Lira. But happiness can never be taken wholly away from us. We have our homes and families still."

"Lira was my family... she was like my sister and mother." Anson broke off and relapsed into his tears, and Gorby held him as a father would hold his little child who had woken up after a dreadful nightmare.