Chapter 14 - Epilogue

Inzilanî stared at Bronamar, surprised to see him return after having left for the day. "Who is here, you say?"

"Prince Legolas, Borongil's younger brother. He is back from the war in Gondor and Mordor. He was part of the group that won the war with the Enemy. He is home just this morning, and brought a …" Bronamar used a word Inzilanî had never heard before. "Come on!" His head vanished from the talan, and she could hear his feet hit the ground.

"Bronamar! Slower, please! What is a naugren?" Inzilanî descended the rope ladder from the talan with the ease of practice. "Bronamar! You walk too fast!"

The healer turned and waited for her, and then caught up her hand and began pulling her along. "They are the children of Ôl, shorter than you mortals and with much more hair. They live in caves, like our Halls, only deeper; and mine gold and silver and jewels. This one is a good friend of Prince Legolas, so Aran Thranduil has said we will be on good behavior."

"Do the nimîr not like the naugrim then?" she panted. Bronamar's legs were much longer than hers; she had to trot to keep up with him without getting pulled from her feet onto her face.

"I can pick you up and carry you," he threatened with a frown when she tugged on his hand to slow him down. "You are small enough to put under one arm…"

"I can walk - but will you walk slower, please…"

"I want to get there so I can help with the decorations!" he insisted, but he did rein in his legs so that her trot kept her even with him.

"About the naugrim…" she reminded him breathlessly.

"It is a long story, and I am sure there are many misunderstandings on both sides. But to make the tale easier to tell, no; edhil and naugrim have not gotten along well for a very long time. Hurry now!"

Inzilanî saw that he was taking her deeper into the forest, somewhere she had been told was not safe for her to enter alone. "We will be safe here, Bronamar?"

"Look." His thumb pointed the way up into the branches of the trees, and she could finally make out the grey-garbed warriors that were watching over the woods. "This is where we hold our festivals, when the weather is warm enough."

"It is not warm!" Indeed, had he not been telling her just that morning that soon she would have to move inside the Halls again because the weather would make it too cold for her to be in a simple talan with only a fire-bowl and blankets to keep her warm? Even the trees were going to sleep now, he'd told her; that was why they had let their leaves fall. He'd also said that rain would fall from the sky and sit white on the ground, but that was something she was finding hard to believe.

"We'll have a bonfire tonight; it will be nice and warm!" Bronamar pulled at her again. "Come on!"

There was a clearing ahead, and the sounds of many voices talking excitedly. As they drew closer, Inzilanî could see that many of the nimîr who lived in the Halls had come out, and that most of the telain in the area had emptied as well. Tables had been brought out and lined one side of the clearing, and a whole venison was turning slowly over the flames in the center, safely bounded by a circle of rocks. At the far end of the clearing, several nimîr were hanging lanterns cleverly carved from small gourds from the lower branches of the leafless trees.

Bronamar dropped Inzilanî's hand and hurried over to join them. Inzilanî looked about the clearing and found Malheril directing some of the women in getting the tables ready to hold the festival food. She went over to her old mistress and gave a bow – a proper nimîr bow, because she wasn't a slave anymore. "I want to help. Please."

"Inzilanî! Good! Here," and Malheril spun and pointed to a pile of fabric sitting on an old stump. "We need those cloths covering the tables."

It was strange that the nimîr could be so proud and noble, and yet be willing to do the kind of work that her own people would normally give to slaves. The nimîr didn't have slaves; that had been another thing that had taken a while to understand. The women who cleaned Malheril's and Borongil's apartment in the Hall did so as their way of helping the entire community. Inzilanî had joined their number not that long ago, realizing that cleaning was one way that she could help that wouldn't take her a long time to perfect. And because it was a task she had chosen for herself, she found she got great satisfaction from her work and in doing it well.

Nimiel, one of the women who cleaned for Malheril, joined Inzilanî now, and in short order the two of them had the wooden tables covered and ready for the food. Inzilanî stopped and looked about her, at the happy faces busy putting the last touches on the clearing, and at Pharazôn himself, standing proud in his golden robe and crown of autumn leaves at the far end of the clearing, with a wine goblet in one hand and the other arm around the shoulders of a golden-haired nimir archer she didn't remember having seen before. Borongil and another creature – person? – stood with them. The newcomer was short, with a head so covered with bristly brown hair that the eyes were barely visible.

She knew Pharazôn's true name now, but she privately hung onto the title she had given him the first time she saw him. He would always be the Golden One, the one who shined brighter than all the others. He had saved her life and brought her to a place where she could finally heal, and in the end accepted her as one of his own without reservation for as long as she wished to remain. She was no nimîr, but she had been made welcome. To her, he was a King worth serving for the rest of her days.

oOoOo

"What is that?" Inzilanî pointed with her thumb at the sudden appearance of drums and pipes and strange, stringed instruments she'd never seen before.

Bronamar finished drinking his wine before answering her. "Do you remember, long ago, just before you danced for me, you asked me how the edhil dance?" With wide eyes, she nodded. "Well, we dance tonight, and celebrate the return of our Prince along with the end of the harvest."

She bit her tongue and smiled. It had taken time to learn that her idea of "celebration" and that of the nimîr was quite different. For them, it was a way of letting everyone share in a joy equally; she understood that now. But until now, she hadn't seen it expressed in dance.

"We celebrate, Bronamar? Really?" she asked slyly, her smile turning playful. The nimir's eyes widened, and then he threw his head back and laughed. My, how she enjoyed the way he could laugh and make the world sparkle.

"We show our joy," he answered back, "although it is tradition that during and after the dancing, some of the edhil might be… celebrating life. I know little about such things." he pronounced with a stiff posture and a grin as wicked as Inzilanî's.

The drumbeat wasn't a heartbeat, but the rhythm was infectious. The music of the flutes was wilder than anything that she had heard from those that had accompanied her dance lessons in Umbar, but she could feel the melodies catching at her soul and making it feel lighter, happier. The harps, as Bronamar called them, could make sounds like waterfalls, or give a deep voice that was like the voice of the spirits themselves.

"Will you dance with me?"

Inzilanî looked at Bronamar, her friend, her confidant, her teacher, her healer. They had come a long way from that painful night. She smiled. "I think I will like to dance with you."

"Good!" His hand caught at hers, and he pulled her into the center of the clearing, close to where the flames of the fire had been built up until they clawed at the night sky. "Now you will learn to celebrate like one of us."

He put his hands at her waist and lifted her high into the air as if she weighed nothing at all, and she learned that nimîr dancing was like flying. She threw her head back and laughed, and shared the joy in the safe return of one who had been in evil places. With a full heart, Inzilanî threw herself into a dance that celebrated – and shared – her joy in her freedom.

It had been a long road, and she had passed through evil places, but she was home too.

FIN

Vocabulary

aran - (S) king
edhil - (S) elves
naugren - (S) dwarf
naugrim - (S) dwarves
nimir - (A) elf
nimîr - (A) elves
Ôl - (S) Aulë
Pharazôn - (A) Golden One
talan - (S) tree dwelling of wood elves
telain - (S) tree dwellings of wood elves