The Shadow Hunter

Chapter 16: Welcome Home

Aragorn and his company were greeted by several guards standing cautious near the gates. They immediately recognized Aragorn’s identity, but questioned the other tailing him with sharp gazes.

“Aragorn, we have expected you,” one of them said. “But not the others. We have been informed that the Halfling has friends with him, friends of his kind, but not the dark-cloaked ranger.”

“He is my and Gandalf’s friend. Surely, you would allow him to pass?” Aragorn replied. “He has been my comrade for days.”

“To let him pass is to let him show his identity,” the other guard said. Aragorn slightly glared at them to defend his ranger friend. He might have just been friends with him for only a week, but he could understand how the ranger respected privacy and his identity. He had once been like him as well, being an exile and keeping his true name secret. “Forgive us, Aragorn, but the time is dark. We cannot let a masked man, or hooded in this one, pass these gates.”

“Do not worry, Aragorn,” the ranger intervened. “I cannot hide myself forever,” he said again with his true voice. She stepped forward and pulled her hood and her scarf down to show her true appearance. The Hobbits and Aragorn almost immediately gasp when they saw the face of a beautiful elleth hiding behind her guise. At first the guards and the company were not convinced whether she was truly an Elf or not, for her skin was incredibly pale, pale like the moonlight. Her hair was dark like the night, short for Elves, and was tied into a loose ponytail with a single braid running down her left cheek. Her silver eyes were sharp and glimmering under the rising sun and her face was strong like Man. “Will you let a kin pass through?” she asked again with her real voice.

The guards were still taken aback by her striking appearance as they nodded, making way for their guests anxiously. Varilerin sighed and let the Hobbits, who were still looking at her in awe, into the safe haven. Strider followed the Halflings, stealing glances as he did so. Varilerin lastly followed behind them, trying to calm her trembling mind down as she got deeper into the place full of memories.

Rivendell had not changed much ever since she left it over a thousand years ago. Its gardens and buildings were still beautiful and magnificent, despite the looming darkness in the outer world. The pillars where she once played with Arwen were still standing tall, and the trees were still strong and protected the village from unwanted eyes. Memories she had been trying to suppress nevertheless flashed in her mind, brief but painful enough to pierce her heart. The place brought sadness to her heart. She had once been an elleth in Rivendell, and the place had been her home. She couldn’t deny that she longed to return to its shelter, but now that she was there, she hoped that she had left it before they entered the gates.

“Aragorn!” a familiar, gentle voice came from afar. Varilerin immediately recognised the voice and saw Arwen running towards them in a hurry. Varilerin tried her hardest not to be noticed by the elleth, only to fail miserably when Arwen stopped midway. Varilerin looked away as Arwen gaped at what she was seeing. Her eyes were not on Aragorn, not the Hobbits, but to the elleth standing in front of her.

“Varilerin?” Arwen muttered. The name pierced its owner’s heart, for she had not heard it coming from the maiden for so long. Arwen fluttered her eyes, thinking that they were deceiving her, for her old friend standing in front of her was like an illusion. She couldn’t believe that she was even alive, after so many years disappearing from her life. But there she was, transfixed to the ground as she tried to meet Arwen’s gaze. Her heart faltered, for Varilerin looked so different. Her hair was so short and her face dusty and rough. Her clothing was torn and ragged from long travels, and her face dark and gloomy. Nevertheless, Arwen knew who she was seeing. Those eyes were the same she had always admired, silver and pure like the starlight. “Varilerin!”

“I am sorry, I need to leave,” Varilerin said as she quickly turned away, but Arwen’s grip prevented her from walking further. She trembled terribly when her warm hands touched her cold ones. Varilerin merely stared at the ground as Arwen forced her body to face her. Varilerin couldn’t bring, or think of any words to say. In front of her stood her once best friend, who she had hurt because of her own foolishness. Directly facing her was the eyes of a person she had almost killed, and for which she forced herself to exile. Varilerin frightfully lifted her head to look at Arwen, her heart stopped beating when suddenly Arwen embraced her.

“Varilerin, where have you been?” Arwen cried. “I thought you’ve passed to the Halls of Mandos!” Arwen released her embrace, showing teary eyes to Varilerin which made her heart ache more. “Why don’t you bid me farewell? Why did you leave in the first place?”

“I’ve caused you too much pain, My Lady. I failed to protect you, almost causing your death. I am no longer worthy to stay in Rivendell,” Varilerin answered bitterly. Sadness overwhelmed her, but she had no more tears to shed. “I deserve my exile. I should not have returned to Rivendell either.

“Do not say that, my friend,” Arwen retorted gently, gripping Varilerin’s hands tight. “Your leaving me is enough to cause me pain. Loneliness is more aching for me than thousands of wounds.”

“Even if you want me to, My Lady, I cannot. My presence here is danger to you all. You have seen it—“

“No, my friend,” cut Arwen. “Your presence here is a gift to me, to all of us.”

A gift? Varilerin would confidently call herself a curse, a curse that would bring doom to them all. She might have been a gift once, until she shattered her own world and Arwen’s and Glorfindel’s with her own carelessness and failure. “I carry guilt that cannot disappear. I have no right to live in Rivendell again, yet alone stay with you,” Varilerin defended darkly.

“Varilerin…”

“That name is long gone, My Lady. I have changed. I am not the same elleth I used to be,” Varilerin continued.

“You are still my friend, Varilerin!” Arwen insisted. “You are a gift to all of us here! Have you not wondered how bitter my life and Lord Glorfindel’s is without you?” The name of her master and guardian shook Varilerin. She remained silent. “You are his only daughter, Varilerin, and a sister to me. We do not care about the things you have done, things that should not have been your burden. All we want is for you to return to us.” Arwen desperately pleaded for her friend to stay, through eyes that now dropped tears. She wouldn’t let her friend go, not one more time. To her Varilerin was like a sister, a lifelong friend. When Arwen woke awake to see Varilerin gone because of a crime she didn’t commit, a suffocating emptiness filled her heart. For years she had believed that her friend would return, despite horrifying rumours that she was dead. Arwen had waited too patiently. She would not let her friend slip from her grasp anymore.

“And what if you are hurt once more?” Varilerin snapped, her voice trembling. “I do not want to see you like Ellain and Ruindoldir, Arwen. I do not want to see anyone suffer because of my curse.”

“If this curse is what caused you suffering and guilt, then I shall bear it with you,” Arwen said surely. Varilerin’s hard face faltered, emotion started to pour into her expression. Guilt washed her mind once more, but this time because of her decision of leaving Arwen. She knew when she left that her decision would hurt Arwen in many ways, but she did it for her own wellbeing. But Arwen still stood for her, waited for her to come how and believed that she was still alive. Arwen didn’t falter despite Varilerin’s disappearance caused her to lose so much hope. “Rivendell will always be your home, Varilerin,” Arwen said lastly. Varilerin was finally defeated as Arwen lastly embraced her. “If you change, then we will accept you once more. You are our kin, and will always be.”

Varilerin would definitely cry if she her heart was not as cold as it was now. Years of bitter travelling and surviving in the darkening world had dimmed the light in her heart. There were no tears nor sadness to utter, or gratefulness to say to her faithful friend. Varilerin had lost all the ability to speak her heart. But Arwen’s last embrace changed all of it. Somehow she provided her with purpose again, brushing gently all the harshness that had forged Varilerin into what she had become. She was gentler than the breeze and kinder than the sun. Finally all the stone in her heart loosened, shattering into pieces, and Varilerin smiled sadly and gratefully to Arwen, embracing her back. Warmth and kindness filled her sorrowful heart. Slowly she felt herself being home again. She could now comprehend the familiar smell of trees and wood. She could feel the warm air and the graceful wind. She remembered it all, her slightly happier past and the present.

Yes. Rivendell had always been her home all along.

“Thank you,” Varilerin whispered, “for waiting this sorrowful friend.”

“You have no thanks to give to me,” Arwen immediately said, brushing her hair gently.

Arwen let her go when she heard footsteps coming. She brushed her tearful eyes and smiled back at Varilerin, whose rigid face softened as she eased from the tenseness of her journey. Varilerin turned to face the people approaching them, knowing too well the pattern of steps of one of their greeters, and drew a deep breath. Her heart was still not ready to face her guardian, for she had possibly dismayed him terribly when she left years ago.

Elrond and Glorfindel stopped immediately when they saw the elleth standing beside Arwen. They widened their eyes in disbelief. They must had been tricked by some witchery, they thought, but Varilerin’s eyes couldn’t deceive them. They were the same ones that had always watched over them for hundreds of years. Glorfindel knew too well. They were the same ones that had always searched him for protection and guidance. He froze to the ground.

Varilerin met the eyes of her master. She didn’t speak, nor did he. Words couldn’t describe the feeling that was overwhelming them both. They conversed in silence, and through a meaningful gaze. Varilerin finally realized how terrible she had missed the presence of her master and his smile; and Glorfindel had also longed to see his daughter once more.

“Varilerin, My Daughter?” Glorfindel muttered in disbelief, stepping closer to her.

“Yes Master. It’s I,” Varilerin muttered back. As he swallowed her words, Glorfindel’s lips slowly curved into a smile Varilerin had long not seen. It was too good to be true. The elleth he had been searching for years, whose name had strengthened him when he fought in the battles, was now in front of his own eyes. He skipped towards her without further thought and pulled her into his arms, smiling with joy and trying to hold back tears he had been keeping for hundreds of years.

“Welcome home, My Child,” Glorfindel whispered. Varilerin couldn’t help but smile in his arms. She had never felt warmer before.

“I am home, everyone.”

______________________________________________________________________________________________________

“So she is an Elf,” muttered Pippin as he sucked his pipe weed, eyes gazing aimlessly to a magnificent courtyard in Rivendell. “To tell you the truth, I am still suspicious if it is true.”

“Because she does not act like an Elf?” Merry asked. “Should I tell you that Bilbo is also different from ordinary Bagginses?”

“Our world is getting stranger every minute,” continued Sam. They were now sitting idly, smoking pipe weed blissfully as they waited for Varilerin to appear in the corridors. They had visited Frodo—who was seemingly alright—rested, and changed their clothes. Not knowing what they should do, they had decided to search for Aragorn to ask so many questions left unanswered. After the touching reunion they had seen, however, Aragorn had somehow disappeared from their vicinity, and so was Varilerin. It was peaceful and strange at the same time, not having a sharp and cold ranger constantly by their side. They didn’t exactly know the reason they were waiting for her, either missing her scolding or wanting to see her fair face once more. The Hobbits had been shocked to death when they saw her true appearance, having thought she was a man previously, and now they had a desire to study her beautiful face one more time.

Their prayer was answered when Varilerin appeared in the corridors with Arwen by her side. From afar the Hobbits could see that she had… somehow changed, though not as clear as the dawn. Beside the well-dressed Arwen, she stood like a warrior, but an elegant one at that. She was no longer wearing her worn out coat and cloak, but a silver tunic and grey leggings. She had switched her ragged boots with a new, smooth brown one that almost reached her knees. Her hair was now worn down, reaching just past her shoulders, with braids not feminine enough to show that she was actually an elleth. She didn’t laugh nor smile when she talked with Arwen, but they could see that she was slightly happier than before. It was proven by how unaware she was of them watching her, for she was usually acute and cautious of her surroundings.

“I wonder if in the past she had a better life,” Sam remarked. As if his words were heard by Varilerin, the elleth stopped conversing with Arwen and glanced to the Hobbits. They immediately jolted and directed their eyes away from her, but only rendered her suspicious of their intentions sitting idly in the courtyard. She immediately rushed to the Hobbits with a dimmed expression, with Arwen tailing behind her.

“I wonder, what are you all looking at?” Varilerin asked once she stood in front of the spies. Now that the Hobbits were seeing her up close, they saw that she had not changed really much. There was a shadow behind her eyes which was not caused by her lack of sleep the recent days; it had always been there ever since they first encountered her.

It seems she has not truly forgiven herself, the Hobbits silently thought as they tried to escape from her deadly glare.Arwen chuckled as she stood beside Varilerin. To the Hobbits’ surprise, Arwen and Varilerin looked similar with each other, the latter only differing slightly in her more rigid facial features. The fact made the Hobbits tense awkwardly under their gaze, unable to find the answer to her question.

“We are only wondering what you are talking about,” Pippin stammered. “You seem quite happy when you talk with each other.”

“Of course we are, Master Hobbit. She is my old friend, very old friend,” Arwen explained.

“And one of the very few I have,” Varilerin added emotionlessly. “Including Gandalf, which reminds me and worries me at the same time. He should have been waiting us at Bree and, as far as I know, he should have been here by the time we arrived. Something is terribly wrong.” Varilerin’s eyes widened upon a horrifying realization.

“Gandalf went to counsel with the head of his order!” Varilerin muttered, her eyes terrified. “If something has gone wrong, it will be with Saruman the White, the head of the Istari. I should have known!”

“Saruman the Wise? He would do nothing to harm his own friend!” Arwen retorted. “Saruman has been our friend for many years, and is a member of the White Council. He would do no such thing!”

“Arwen—“

Suddenly she heard noise coming from the village gates, stealing all of their attention. Even from afar, she could feel the familiar strong presence that came through the arched gates. Her body moved on its own, her feet running towards the entrance of Rivendell.

Upon arriving, eyes full of wisdom and exhaustion glanced back at her. Varilerin felt a surge of happiness and terror at the same time. He looked very different than the last time she had seen him. His body was full of bruises and wounds. He stumbled as he made it past the gates, ignoring the helping hands the guards were offering for him.

“My Dear?” Gandalf whispered with a rasped voice. Varilerin froze to the ground, horrified of her friend’s appearance. The wizard stumbled to the ground, but Varilerin managed to catch his limping body just in time. “Varilerin. You have made it safe,” Gandalf said again, grateful.

“Gandalf,” Varilerin gasped in disbelief as she supported him to his feet. The wizard coughed as she did so, barely standing with his little strength. Varilerin could not imagine what he had gone through. She could only question him. “What happened to you?”

“That, I will explained later,” stammered the old man. “But first, we need to meet Lord Elrond. There is something important needed to be discussed, with you as well.”

000

“Saruman has sided with Sauron you say?” Elrond gasped in disbelief. Gandalf, sitting in front of him in the library of Rivendell, merely nodded. Varilerin gave Gandalf a cup of tea to soothe himself after the perilous journey. Glorfindel was leaning against a pillar not far. The audience waited for Gandalf to drink first and relax himself, having just survived Saruman’s torture by miraculously riding a giant eagle. Varilerin pitied him dearly, for his wounds had not been tended nor had he rested, but this meeting was more urgent. Apparently, both of them had equally dangerous trips to Rivendell.

“Yes, and he has for a long time,” Gandalf said weakly. “We have been blinded. Saruman has built a force on his own, enough to support, or to match Sauron’s soldiers. By foul craft Saruman has crossed Orcs with Goblin men, he is breeding an army that can move in sunlight and gather great distance at speed. Now he seeks to find the Ring as well,” Gandalf continued.

“Then the more hope is lost then,” Elrond said, his dark eyes filled with grief and disappointment. Saruman was a wise and a powerful ally for the free peoples of Middle Earth, but even the wisest could be possessed by the greed of power. Elrond shook his head. He had seen Saruman acting strangely in the recent years, but did nothing out of doubt. Now that Saruman was against them, it was too late. Not even Rivendell could protect the people now, with Saruman and Sauron joining forces to destroy them. “Our list of allies are growing thin. The odds are against us.”

“The Ring cannot stay here,” Glorfindel explained in Elrond’s stead, understanding the meaning in his eyes. “Rivendell is no longer safe. This evil cannot be concealed by the Elves.”

“This peril belongs to all in Middle Earth. They must decide now how to end,” Elrond continued. “The time of the Elves is over. My people are leaving these shores. Who will you look to when we’ve gone?”

“It is in men we must place our hope,” Gandalf answered surely, though in his voice was a hint of fear and doubt.

“Men! Men are weak!” Elrond exclaimed, standing up. “The race of men is failing. The blood of Numenor is all but spent, its pride and dignity all but forgotten. It is because of Men the Ring survives! It should have ended a thousand of years ago, this war, but Isildur allowed it to continue. Now look what we must endure!”

Elrond paused, catching his breath. Varilerin watched as calmness returned to his mind, but not his heart. Elrond had lived thousands of years, watching Men do unnecessary things that brought doom to themselves. It was reasonable for him to be hopeless to the mortals. “The line of Kings is broken. There’s no strength left in the world of Men. They’re scattered, divided, leaderless.”

“But the heir of Isildur still lives,” interrupted Varilerin. She surprised all of them, for she had rarely talked, even in an open discussion such as this. Varilerin paused when she saw their reactions, but continued, “Aragorn can unite them and reclaim the throne.”

“He turned from that path a long time ago. He has chosen exile,” Elrond retorted darkly. From his voice it was clear that he had lost hope on Aragorn, who had chosen to wander as a ranger rather than become a king of Gondor.

“But he has not forgotten the path,” Varilerin said. “I know it too well, Lord Elrond. I have turned from my home for a thousand years, walking aimlessly in Middle Earth, until fate brought me back here.” Varilerin paused, glancing at each of her the person in the library. They were clearly surprised of her answer, for she had never tried to convey her opinions before, yet alone speak freely. But Varilerin knew in this dire situation she must muster all strength she had, or else more would suffer from their poor decisions.

“I believe in Aragorn, and the world of Men,” Varilerin continued. “For I have the blood of Man as well. But they cannot do it alone.”

Elrond was bemused by her speech. For a moment she seemed far wiser than he, making himself ashamed of his words. Varilerin felt a surge of guilt climbing in her body and stepped back. “Forgive me if my words are improper,” she stammered slowly, thinking that she had spoken too much. Elrond shook his head almost instantly.

“No, My Child. I am truly wrong,” Elrond sighed, seemingly very tired by just speaking about the matter of the Ring alone. “For years I have spoken as if I am with wisdom, giving advices that would provide hope for those who counsel with me… But I myself have no hope in the world, in the smallest things that could change the tide of this war.”

“My Lord Elrond, if it is hope now that strengthens us, then we must gather all races to fight this war together,” Gandalf suggested, standing up as well. “We must end this together, and decide the fate of the Ring. If it is unsafe in even the safest haven in Middle Earth, it must be destroyed.”

“Yes, Gandalf, I understand,” Elrond said. “And for that I have summoned people representing each race. We are going to hold a council when all of them arrive.” Elrond smiled slightly, his face showing a hint of faith. “For this I want all of you to attend, Aragorn included.”

“All of us?” Varilerin muttered, shifting from her position. Her face clearly showed that she didn’t want to join the council. Glorfindel scoffed at her reaction, knowing too well that the elleth despite gatherings like a council meeting.

“Varilerin, you’ve travelled across Middle Earth in these recent years. You wield the knowledge of the lands and their conditions. Your wisdom would be of outmost importance for our cause,” Elrond explained. Elrond’s arguments were as accurate as her aim, breaking her defence almost immediately.

“Varilerin, you have to let go for this one,” Glorfindel advised with a grin. “And it will be a good opportunity as your first time in conversing with many people.” Varilerin threw a sharp glance to her mentor, understanding his intentions completely. Probably he was more interested in her sitting with a circle of people than her providing wisdom in the meeting. Glorfindel had always tried to push her into the proper manners of social society, though so far the efforts had mostly failed. Now that she was cornered by his gleeful intentions and the dire situation, Varilerin knew she could not escape.

“I’ll try,” Varilerin said reluctantly. Elrond and Glorfindel smiled together in response. Gandalf chuckled, happy that his friend had slightly changed. Varilerin scowled and left the floor where she had previously standing. As she tried to escape from whatever the three others now enjoying themselves, the arrival of Arwen in the room surprised her.

“Varilerin, where are you going?” Arwen asked, gaping. A grin curved from her lips when she saw her father’s expression. “Escaping to the woods again?”

“Varilerin cannot escape this time, Lady Arwen,” Glorfindel informed. “I have taken her weapons and told the guards to prevent her from passing the gates. She is now confined in this village, unable to disappear into the woods.”

“Good then. I now have a friend to greet the imminent guests,” Arwen said cheerfully. Varilerin instantly looked dismayed, seeking Gandalf for protection. The wizard at first ignored her pleading eyes, but then decided that after burdening her with protecting the Hobbits and the Ring, he should give her some credit.

“I believe it is more suitable for her to accompany me to visit Frodo,” Gandalf said. “I want to know in details what happened in their journey, and I also have forgotten this place slightly.”

“Liar,” Varilerin mouthed, but she nodded. “Farewell Gandalf, if it is your wish, I shall accompany you.” The wizard was merely playing with her, she knew, but to follow him was better than giving greetings to the guests. She would only be able to glare at them, not smiling at them. It would prove not well if she was to do that. “But first, you need to rest. I will help you heal your wounds.”

“Thank you, My Dear,” Gandalf said with a smile. Varilerin sighed and walked with him to the healing chambers. For the first time in months, her mind became slightly clearer and more peaceful.