[Taralphiel]

But he had not come. Taralphiel stood there till her legs would no longer support her. By now, her maids had come in. The pale faced beauties had sorrow in their eyes as they helped her to her room deep within the house. Many of these maids there were, orphans of the first attacks of the Raiders, brought up in the house, Taralphiel their only mother. Children still came here, without anyone to care for them, and the big house was never empty. Children of the Swan they were, and their upbringing could not be finer, but wished it could not have been necessary.

Taralphiel lay on her bed, but it took them a might of effort to make her release her sword. ‘They will send for me’ she growled to the walls. The chief maiden smiled sadly ‘The battle is over Milady. It ended through the night. Three men came back. Your messenger…had an arrow through his back’ and at that she retreated in tears. Sitting there silently, Taralphiel looked down at the sheets of her bed, then over to her shelves of books. Lore of Elves, healing arts, customs of every nation, Battle tactics of Rohirrim, and more were there ‘Yet what good do they do me!’ she sighed, and lay her head down. Thoughts and memories swirled through her head. She remembered the White City, and its beautiful banners. She remembered the depths of Mirkwood, and the people that lived therein. She remembered the three that saved her in that forest, and helped her find her imprisoned husband. The dark stare of Rudchamion, the dark elf with no past. The tender smile of Anarya, elf of Mirkwood, and Khelek, the valiant wolf, who understood her ills. Her face brightened for a moment. ‘Oh, that I could only talk to them, they would help me’ she then fell asleep, and relived her adventures in Mirkwood. Outside the maidens watched and smiled then went about their work in silence. Soon the wounded came in to the various rooms of the houses, and were tended to, some in vain. That night the breeze floated through the forest, and a mood was there that no one could mistake, death had been and gone, and misery was left. When Taralphiel woke, she gave farewells to their spirits in a quick ceremony. Many were proud that their sons, husbands, or brothers were being kept in the gardens of the Lady they loved. But the swan lady found little solace, even in a house full of children. She soon made for the swan village, on the beginning of the Plains of Dor-En-Ernil.

The ride was no more than a day for a rider inexperienced in weaving through the paths of this forest, but for the convoy of horses of the Swan Lady, it was reduced to hours. Arriving in the village, she sought out each family of each man that had fought, and wept with them. Then she hurried to the house of Havlor, and his wife Firwyn. Long had they been great companions. Havlor and his wife were the first to join her and Eriador in Dor-En-Ernil, and their son, Havor, had married Taralphiel’s daughter Estelle, and had Taralphiel’s only grandchild. She had also known Havlor in Calembel. That was not a wonderful thought to remember. Havlor’s father had sought to have them wed, but instead, Taralphiel had married Eriador, and ran from the town, leaving Havlor broken-hearted. ‘That was a long time ago, old fool’ she thought to herself ‘Leave it away where it was, and tend to your dying friend’

Entering, she saw a snow haired woman sitting by the hearth, head bowed in prayer. Looking up, tears stained her cheeks ‘Oh Lady!’ she wept, and Taralphiel embraced her. ‘I am so sorry I did not come sooner. Forgive me’ she whispered through her own tears. Firwyn shook her head ‘You belong at you house, but while you are here, you are welcome in this house’ Then Firwyn showed Taralphiel into the bedchambers, where Havlor lay. He was as pale as the moon, and a shadow of his former strength. No one knew what gave him such vigour in his old age to be bale to fight, but now, it was gone. He opened his eyes slowly and his cracked and broken face moved to a smile ‘My Lady Taralphiel!’ he breathed. She sat by his bed and took his hands. Staring into his face, she saw the look of Mandos peering over him, leading him away. She sighed and turned back to where Firwyn stood, her hands wrung tightly at her chest. Her face was red and eyes blotchy, and a sad smile graced her. ‘It does him good to see you’ she said, and left them.


Turning back, Taralphiel tried a jovial smile ‘And how have you been, dear old friend?’
He started slowly ‘Well enough. Though they won’t let me out for some fresh air. I wish to see the plains and the rivers, and to watch for the White Tower again’. ‘The White Tower is far from here’ she said to him. ‘Yes I know, but it strikes my heart Milady’ he looked at her. ‘I lived there for so long, my heart broken, for you were not with me’. ‘Havlor…’ she began ‘-But there I found a woman so wonderful and beautiful, that my heart was full again’ he croaked. Taralphiel beamed; glad he was not dwelling on what happened in Calembel so long ago. ‘Firwyn is my life and light, I wish never to be away from her again. This is my punishment, for leaving her too often to fight, and show the young men how to hold a sword instead of a rake, as only we know how’ Havlor looked at her solemnly. ‘Yes, it is true that we are the last of that old code’ she began ‘But I see it alive in Laurel’ she said. ‘Yes, our granddaughter is a fine fighter, though she does not know it. And a fine Lady too. I see great things for her, if you let her’ he said. ‘Let her?’ asked Taralphiel. ‘Well, she has been fighting for this place so long that she has nothing else. She should be married, have children, but she has none. I want her to know the happiness we had, and out children too’ he said. His eyes were full of a grey sadness. Taralphiel put a hand to her heart ‘I did not even think of that, old friend. I didn’t realise the life she was giving up, for she never said anything of it. What a fool I am!’ she cried in pain. Havlor raised his hand ‘No, you are not. Your house is the best place for a child to grow up. And even better for them to learn of the world. I would have every child of the village be fortunate enough to grow there. But she needs to go out into the world, to see it with her own eyes, and then she will know the joys we have’ he stopped. Taralphiel laughed ‘Again, I am so sorry! I did not tell you! Laurel is out seeing the world! As we speak she is arriving in Calembel!’. ‘What?’ said Havlor in happy surprise. Taralphiel nodded ‘I sent pleas to Gondor, Rohan, and the remaining Elves, to aid our fight. You know as well as I that we need more fighting men. Laurel will bring them back here’

‘My, this is wonderful news!’ Havlor looked like a child ‘My granddaughter will see the village that we grew up in, where you met Eriador, and where our adventures began! And she will see the White Towers! Oh, that was my wish for her! To see that most beautiful city as I used to. You did a good thing Milady! Your daughter, and my son, would be proud’. Taralphiel felt tears well up ‘Our children…’ Long had she mourned for both their souls. Havor, the open-faced and bright young man, and her Esteliel, the graceful maid of a thousand beauties. They had died together, and their pain hurt her still. For it was added onto by the death of her son, Ithilien, her shining warrior, strong and wise. He fell the same way they all did, by the darts or swords of the Wild Men. She looked at Havlor ‘Not another’ she thought. She squeezed his hand ‘Listen to me Havlor. You must get strong, and be brave. You need to see Laurel, and our great grandchildren!’ ‘Ah! Don’t you worry!’ he chuckled ‘I’ll be up in no time! But hear me, I hear those Elvish healers are fine. Wouldn’t mind one ‘o them looking me over’ he grinned, and coughed heavily ‘I’ll do all I can, dear Havlor! You sleep now’ she kissed his hand, and left the room.

‘Well?’ Firwyn asked anxiously. ‘He is trying to mend’ Taralphiel said carefully. ‘Will he?’ she said, on the brink of hysterics. ‘I am going to send over Elven healers as soon as they arrive’ and she explained Laurels absence to her. Firwyn gave the maternal glow, and Taralphiel could not help but beam herself ‘My, I am proud of her!’ she said. Taralphiel then settled down on the warm hearth, and there she would sit for a long time, in deep discussion with a woman of great strength.