Into the West (A Lord of the Rings Fan Fic)

Chapter Thirty

It was not many days after that that Eowyn and Éomer departed with the other Rohirrim, leaving behind them promises to return soon; Amaruil was sad to see them go for, although she had not had much to do with Éomer, he had been pleasant and polite and, with Eowyn leaving too she was deprived of her closest female friend in Minas Tirith for over the past days they had become quite close. Luckily for Amaruil, however, Elladan and Elrohir were leaving with them and she had made them promise, multiple times, to ride as quickly as possible and to hurry Elrond as much as they were able.

"We swear Amaruil!" Elladan laughed as they said goodbye. "We have promised many times now and we will not forget that promise!"

"It's the least you can do Elladan after you said that you were leaving days ago and then postponed it. I am impatient to see Arwen," she remonstrated, the teasing tone in her voice keeping them from taking offence at her words.

"You're not just impatient to see Arwen," Elrohir joked as she frowned at him.

"No I am not so go now!" she said, almost pushing them down the stairs in her desperation to make them leave.

Although at first, when they had just bid each other their farewells, Amaruil was filled with an overwhelming sense of excitement and happiness at the prospect of seeing Arwen again in time, as the days drew by their group began to shrink, with people leaving the halls and spending less time together as Aragorn and Faramir resumed their duties and Gandalf took to spending time by himself or helping to sort out things of much importance; while Legolas and Gimli stood by Aragorn and the hobbits explored the city and were lauded by its citizens everywhere they went Amaruil began to realise that the Fellowship was breaking up and that its members were beginning to return to the places where they belonged, a discovery which filled her with a melancholy so great she found it hard to do anything with her days other than gaze aimlessly out of her window. Although not a part of it she felt as though she was as close to it as any and, without anything of use to spend her days doing, all she could think about was its imminent disbandment. She knew that she should not be sad for, especially as an elf, she knew that change was a constant part of the world and that these were nothing more than the days during which a time of war and evil became times of peace but it did not stop her lamenting the changes which destroyed what once had been so important.

Every day she made it a habit to walk around the top of the city, trying desperately to convince herself of all that had changed for the better and of all the time which she had to enjoy the company of her friends; this, however, was not as comforting as she had once hoped. Used to spending time in the homes of the elves she had lived her life safe in the knowledge that the worst which could happen - although something which did cause her much pain when it happened - was someone leaving for Valinor, somewhere where they would, in the future, be reunited. The business of contemplating the deaths of people she cared about was something to which she was unused and which disturbed and distressed her and, not for the first time in her life but certainly one of the first, she was forced to think about mortality; as she did so she realised that every part of her soul shied away from it, determining instead to ignore it until she was faced with it head on.

As she walked she would often wonder about the White Tree - it had been said that the tree would flower when the king was returned and yet still it bore no signs of being alive something which, if she was to believe the occasional rumour that she heard, the people of Minas Tirith seemed to be concerned about, worrying that their new king was a sham who had deceived them all. Aragorn of course had her full trust and belief but she began to question the stories about the tree until one day when she saw Aragorn in the garden, kneeling over a small sapling which was most certainly alive, its white flowers glowing in the sunlight. "Aragorn!" she cried. "Where has the old tree gone?" she asked, her surprise causing her to blurt out the first question which came to mind.