1,4703 / 1 / 24 ~ And in which Eleanor survived dire odds once again.
Disclaimer: "The Lord of the Rings" is the property of J. R. R. Tolkien. I only claim ownership over Eleanor Dace, Rávamë (aka "Tink"), and the subsequent plot of their story.
A/N: No long winded author's note this time, primarily because I'm posting this at 1am with a long journey home tomorrow from a friends place and I'm knackered. Just know that this chapter has been in pieces for months, and I finished stitching the bulk of it together in two sittings between Christmas and New Year after battling months of writing block. I'm thrilled to finally get to share it with you.
I hope you enjoy the results. Happy 2024! x
Part III : Chapter 21
- Later -
"A surprise love between friends is the best kind of all."
― Mary Jane Hathaway
"They're staring at us."
I blinked my exhausted, dirt-caked eyes open to find Boromir was right. We were indeed being stared at.
I was sat on the stairs leading from the main hall down into the courtyard, right where I'd planted my exhausted backside just over an hour ago. From where he sat beside me on the stone steps, Boromir was looking out over the passing men and women, their tired, shellshocked eyes lingering on us as they went.
"Golly, I wonder why."
"I suppose we both do look as if we crawled out of a graveyard backwards."
I laughed softly, leaning wearily on my bow.
Boromir was right. We were both absolutely covered in bruises and dust that had turned to mud from the rain. He had a fair amount of dried black ichor matting his auburn hair and a deep purple bruise blossoming on his jaw. I had been filthy and battered even before the battle had even started. Now I was filthy and painted up to my elbows in dried blood from stitching Haldir's leg closed.
Small wonder the survivors of Helms Deep slowly emerging from the caves below were all gawking at us.
"Fair," I conceded, turning to eye the man beside me with a tired smile. "You know, you were pretty incredible back there."
Boromir leaned back on his arms, eyes closed, face tilted up to the morning sunlight.
"Back where exactly? It has been a long night."
"After the explosion, on the stairs into the valley. Considering what happened the last time we faced Uruk-hai, charging a hoard of them single-handed was pretty damned awesome." I smirked proudly, nudging his leg with my foot. "Insane, but awesome."
He smiled without opening his eyes.
"No less so than you fighting them alongside me, you tiny madwoman."
I laughed again, my still-bruised ribs aching.
I didn't feel especially awesome. I felt exhausted, battered, and like I'd probably used up whatever remaining luck I had left just to make it through the night alive and in one piece.
'He's right boss,' Tink's voice chimed in, sounding understandably even more drained than both of ours. 'I only gave you the means to survive what your mental ass would have done anyway. Last night was all you, crazy lady.'
I silently considered that, watching the crowds of women, teenagers and some elderly folks setting to work caring for the soldiers who'd defended them through the night.
The events of the night had hit everyone hard, but it was amazing to see the renewed life that had flowed into the keep once the sun had come up. After Galdalf's latest dramatic entrance flanked by Eomer and his rider, the last of the surviving Uruk-hai had been completely driven from the valley into the edge of the nearby forest of Fangorn, and…
Well, I'm not fully sure what happened to them. But if the sounds that came from that wood were anything to go by, even from that far away, it had been an extremely messy and painful end for the last of Saruman's army.
Boromir and Aragorn had returned to the keep half an hour later with confirmation that everyone in our merry band had miraculously come out of the fighting with only minor injuries. Gimli and Legolas had apparently hung back with some of the other Rohan riders to help with the injured somewhere down in the gully, and I'd desperately wanted to run down and find them. But my abused leg muscles and Boromir's chivalry hadn't allowed me to take so much as a step towards the gate; the man in question gently informing me that everyone would be deeply annoyed if I survived an entire siege, only to snap my neck falling down some stairs.
For a change, Aragorn hadn't said a word, but he had been smiling in silent knowing amusement as he left to help the king coordinate the return to Edoras.
I let out a long, tired, happy sigh.
"We really are all varying degrees of insane in this Fellowship, aren't we?" I thought aloud.
That got a rolling belly laugh out of my friend, turning and opening his bright eyes to look at me properly.
"We're in good company then."
I returned his grin.
"Here's to being insane and awesome then."
And I reached over and held my closed fist to him. He just stared at it, baffled.
"What is that for?"
"It's something from home," I explained, elation, joy and longing all tangled up inside me at the words. "My home, I mean. Companions bump fists when they've achieved something great together. It's like a small celebration of victory."
"A bizarre custom," he said mildly, but was smiling again. It faded a tiny bit as we looked around at the vast fallout of the battle below. "Are we really victorious?"
"We're alive, aren't we?" I said seriously. "A great kingdom of Men did not fall today."
His tired but genuinely warm smile returned as he looked back at me.
"Aye, that is true."
"Good," I waggled my knuckles at him. "Now shut up and fist-bump me, you giant lunatic."
He smiled, and did so, his scarred knuckles bumping lightly against mine.
"Here's to you and your surplus of death-defying bravery," he said, and I grinned.
"Likewise, my friend."
A few steps down from where we'd sat someone cleared their throat politely.
The pair of us looked up to see it was Haldir standing at the foot of the steps. He looked like several miles of rough road, covered in even more dried blood and dirt than me which was really saying something. Someone had made him a crutch out of a bit of the keep's shattered gates, and despite not looking too pleased about it he was technically upright and moving.
"Marchwarden," Boromir rose to his own feet. "It is a relief to see you well."
"Well-ish," I amended, giving the elf captain a stern look. "If you tear those stitches and bleed out walking around like that, I'll be extremely upset with you, Haldir."
My dire warning was probably a bit diluted by the relieved grin that teased the edge of my lip. Haldir snorted, and somehow managed to make even that sound elegant. He did offer me a mico-smile and a nod in return though.
"I am also pleased to see you both alive," he said looking up at us. "And it would seem I owe you both not only my own life, but the lives of all my surviving men."
There was a beat of pained silence between us all as the memories of the previous night invaded all our thoughts.
"How many were lost?" Boromir asked quietly. Haldir's face didn't change much, but I saw the shadow that passed over his eyes, his posture hunching slightly as if a great weight had been placed on his back.
"Just over two thirds," he answered. "But it is a wonder it was not all of us, thanks in no small part to you two."
Boromir winced.
"You heap far too much praise on me, marchwarden."
"Yeah, you really don't owe either of us anything," I added, feeling uncomfortably like this was leading up to something big.
"You held off half a platoon on your own so my men could escape," Haldir told Boromir flatly before turning on me, "and you sewed one of my primary blood vessels back together."
"That's quite literally my job, dude."
"She's not wrong," Boromir pressed. "The both of us only did what any honourable person would in our respective places."
Haldir regarded us both for a long, uncomfortably heavy moment, his piercing eyes far sharper than usual. He took a slow breath as if trying to quell frustration.
"I think you are both misunderstanding me. I will be returning to Lothlórien with a third of my men alive, instead of not at all. Their families will not be forced to mourn their loss, their spouses will not be left widowed, and their children not left orphaned." He gave us both a look that could have pierced armour. "I owe you. They owe you. Do not insult me or them by belittling the weight of that debt."
I had exactly no good response to that.
Neither did Boromir.
When not one of us were dumb enough to even try and nay-say him again, Haldir took a knee, as a knight might have in a storybook. It was a bit awkward for him to manage with a badly injured leg and a makeshift crutch, but he did it, bowing his head and resting a hand over the left side of his chest.
"If ever I can return the favour you have gifted me, and it is within my power to grant it, it shall be yours," he intoned solemnly. "You have only to ask. Both of you."
Something about those words radiated a subtle power I don't think I would have registered before speaking with Galadriel all those months ago. I realised with a sinking feeling that it was because this was no ordinary promise. He was extending us both a velisse vere — the blood promise of a favour owed in return for the lives of the men we'd saved.
So far I'd had pretty shoddy experiences with those kinds of oaths. I desperately wanted to rush over and yank him to his feet, but I knew with my legs as wobbly as they were, I'd have fallen flat on my face had I tried. He stood again before I could even take a step anyway.
"And now, I must see to my soldiers. We will return with you to Edoras before departing again for home. Until later."
He gave us a curt nod and another piercing look, and hobbled away towards where the rest of the recovering elves were set up on litters in the great hall. When he was gone, I let out a breath I hadn't realised I was holding and turned to Boromir.
"Well, that was unnerving."
"Indeed," he murmured, frowning away after where the back Haldir's head had disappeared inside. "I must admit I never expected to be witness to such a favour, let along be on the receiving end of one from an elf lord."
"Let's hope he doesn't actually tear those stitches and bleed out, or that favour will end up being nothing but a nice gesture," I muttered, too tired to inject much humour or bite into the words. Instead I climbed to my feet on the stairs, cracking about three stiff joints in the process and testing my weight on my exhausted legs. "On that note, I'm going to go check on my other less mobile patients."
Boromir immediately turned his attention back to me as if drawn by a magnet.
"Sarra? Is she…?"
I felt a wide, happy grin creep back onto my lips.
"She's good," I told him truthfully. "And so's her baby girl."
Boromir smiled, warm and genuine, and the expression lit his entire face like a summer dawn.
"I am deeply glad to hear that."
Maybe it was just me, but I felt like there was a bit more depth to that statement than just abstract well-wishes for a new mother. I wasn't given time to contemplate it further as his smile turned teasing.
"Can you make it down the stairs on your own without tripping over your own feet?" He asked innocently.
"Watch me."
With that, I made my way down towards the entrance into the caves to the sound of my friend chortling behind me, and true to my word, I didn't trip and fall (barely).
It did take me several minutes to make it down past the steady streams relived, loudly chattering people trying to make their way out up the narrow stairs, and I had to hug the wall several times to get by them all. It turned out, once those down in the caves during the siege had realised the sentinels weren't going to come in time, many of the younger women and shield maidens had decided to take up arms alongside Eowyn to defend the breached passages. When I finally made it down into the caverns I passed the same girl who had barely been able to look at Sarra or me when I'd chastised her and the other women for turning away. She was leaning on an ichor-spattered shield now, a long cut across her cheek and a newly hardened look in her eyes. I caught her gaze as I went by, and when she saw me, she gave a tiny grim smile, a solemn nod, and nothing more.
Eventually I found the spot where I'd left Sarra and her newborn daughter a lot less crowded by sheltering women than before, and was doubly relieved to see her now upright and cradling the sleeping baby against the warmth of her chest. Eothain and Freda were sitting and talking quietly with her while Eowyn helped adjust her blankets. I could hear Ilda's voice barking order off somewhere accompanied by the scent of even more cooking food. From the sounds of it she'd decided it was high time to get a good meal prepared for those not able to leave the caves just yet. It had been a very long and stressful night for everyone after all.
"She's so teeny," Eothain was saying as I approached, peering at Sara's swaddled newborn in fascination.
"Look at her little fingers!" Freda cooed in delight along with him.
Sarra apparently sensed my gaze on them all and looked up just as I moved past a few stragglers.
"Eleanor," she sighed in relief, her exhausted, happy face breaking into a sunbeam smile that I gladly returned.
"Good morning," I grinned, dropping onto my knees at her side next to Freda.
"Eothain said you were tending to wounded soldiers all night," she told me seriously, nodding at the boy in question. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. Just tired and in desperate need of a bath," I waved a dismissive hand that was still embarrassingly filthy. "More importantly, how are you both feeling?"
"Well. A little lightheaded still, but well." Sarra answered, holding her daughter a little closer against her chest as she fussed in her sleep, nodding at Eowyn. "We are both being well cared for."
Eowyn, I was pleased to see, returned the nod with a soft smile of her own–the edges tinged with what I suspected was faint remorse. Potentially the result of the chat we'd had in the caverns before the battle kicked off, but either way, I was glad she was helping her former shield-maiden again.
"I'll mix you a tea to help with the dizziness in a bit," I told Sarra, tucking the edge of her baby's blanket a little tighter around her tiny shoulders. "You probably need food too."
"I believe Etain and Ilda already have the latter well under control," Eowyn commented, nodding in the direction of the cook's enthused yelling and the clatter of kitchen utensils on pans.
I didn't manage to wipe the amused smile off my face, but I did reign in my giddy relief enough to give her and her newborn a quick check over and help adjust my cloak she was now using as a back support. After witnessing Boromir's epic use of the gift he'd received from Galadriel I'd been thinking hard about the little pouch of dried herbs and flowers she'd given me. It had taken an embarrassingly long time while sat outside on those steps in the aftermath of the battle to realise that the blends she'd provided me with weren't meant for managing any obscure injury or battle wounds.
They were perfect for treating the aftermath of a difficult childbirth.
If I ever saw that regal elven lady again, I felt like I owed her a strong drink.
"Have you thought of a name?" I asked once Ilda had stopped by long enough to provide enough hot water for me to clean my hands and start brewing the first batch of herbs. Freda, Eothain and Eowyn had left to fetch her some food, and the quiet was probably doing them both some good.
"I have," Sarra answered, stroking a gentle hand over her daughter's wispy red-gold hair. "Nesta."
I wasn't sure if she knew, but in Sindarin 'nesta' literally meant 'to heal'. My smile grew impossibly wider, my cheeks aching with it.
"I think that's perfect."
Sarra met my eye with the kind of smile that simultaneously made my heart ache with joy for my new friend and homesickness for Katie. Then her gaze drifted over my shoulder and the warmth drained from her expression, falling into the familiar careful neutrality of someone bracing for a potential fight. I twisted to follow her eye line and was a bit confused to find Gamling standing just a few feet away.
He looked as if he'd halted mid-stride while removing his helmet, and was shifting awkwardly like he was debating turning and leaving the way he'd come. Instead, he shifted the helmet to rest under one arm, a respectful pose, and gave a slight nod to my reclined friend.
"Sarra," he murmured so quietly it was almost inaudible over the echos of the cavern. Sarra's expression didn't change, but she lifted her chin just a little higher.
"Father."
Right. With everything else that had occurred over the last few days, I had almost completely forgotten that Gamling was Sarra's dad.
Not hesitating to worry about proper conduct–not that I'd ever given much consideration to that before–I got to my feet and quickly walked over to him, putting myself pointedly between the grisled old captain and my patient. Up close Thoden's most trusted surviving captain looked like he'd aged ten years in the space of one night.
"They are both still resting from a difficult birth, sir," I told him softly, fixing my face into as severe an expression as I could manage. "The last thing they need right now is… stressful family drama."
There was no subtle way of saying it, and much like with Eowyn, I didn't care to try and sugarcoat it for him. The memory of how the elder women had tried to shun Sarra for her condition was still fresh in my mind.
Gamling's eyes narrowed on me for the briefest moment, more from surprise at my audacity than outrage I think. Still, I crossed my arms over my chest, and fixed him with a hard stare, trying to make myself look like the bouncers who'd worked the doors at my old workplace. No easy task when you're exhausted, bruised, five-foot-three and built like a marathon-running china doll. But dammit, if he did try to force his way past me to Sarra and her little girl when they were this vulnerable both physically and emotionally, there was no way I was going to make it easy for him.
He didn't though. He just looked abruptly, impossibly tired, holding himself as if the weight of half the world was crushing down on his already hunched shoulders.
"I understand, and I realise it is not my place to demand anything of either of you, m'lady," he said, still holding his helmet gingerly at his side. "But if my daughter permits, I would very much like to meet my grandchild."
"Granddaughter," I corrected him softly, still not moving.
Gamling's face broke into a smile which he simply couldn't keep hidden any longer, his exhausted eyes filling with happy tears.
"A girl?"
"It's alright, Eleanor. You can let him past," Sarra's voice, calmer and surer than I'd ever heard it before, came from a little way behind me. "We need to talk anyhow."
I turned my head just enough to catch her eye, and she nodded at me with a fierceness in her eyes that reassured me that she might be weak from birth, but she was in no way weak in spirit. I nodded, keeping my hard expression, because while I may have learned to be diplomatic, I am still not above being petty.
"Fine. But I'll be nearby if you need me to pull the 'as the medic I outrank you' card."
With that I retreated to a short distance away by some stalagmites and crated to give them some privacy, but still within earshot just in case.
Gamling didn't move for a few seconds, as if genuinely shocked Sarra had allowed him to approach. Eventually he did though, and I watched as he walked over and knelt gingerly beside his daughter. The pair of them spoke in quiet, then slightly broken tones. Gamling was the first to shed open tears in ernest, cutting streaks down his weathered face. When Sarra reached out to pull her father into a one-armed hug with her free hand, they both broke. Those shared tears of remorse, hurt and the beginnings of forgiveness turned quickly to ones of joy when Sarra let him hold little Nesta in his arms for the first time. The old captain all but folded over the fussing little girl like she was the most precious thing he'd ever beheld, and he would gladly make a shield of his own exhausted body to keep her from any harm.
I had to look away for a moment to keep my own tears from escaping too, shutting my eyes and breathing deep to hold them back…
I caught his scent of pine and rain mixed with blood and ash before I heard his steps.
A small, tired smile found its way onto my face again, unsurprised when a moment later I felt a familiar presence at my back and a warm hand on my shoulder.
"How are your patients?" Legolas asked quietly, head dipped close enough to mine to feel his breath on my temple. I opened my eyes to find Gamling had handed Nesta back to her mother to nurse, and was wrapping Sarra's shoulders in his own cloak to keep her warm.
I exhaled in multiple layers of relief.
"They're fine, all things considered," I answered him quietly, being careful to only speak loud enough for him to hear. "One healthy little girl, one proud mother, and one very ecstatic grandpa."
Finally I turned to face him properly, a mix of joy and exasperation to find he looked just as perfect-adjacent as when I'd last seen him in the great hall – dusty skin flushed slightly from the morning sun, and winter sky eyes bright on mine. It probably said something worrying about how elves dealt with grief that he looked healthier in the fallout of battle than he had believing Aragorn and I were both dead. I impulsively reached up and touched my fingertips carefully to his forehead, to the side of where the shallow cut across his brow had stained some of his gold hair dark red.
"How are you holding up?" I asked softly, trying not to dwell on the pang of guilt the thought left me with.
"I am well enough," he answered just as gently, leaning very slightly into the touch before I dropped my hand. "Boromir explained what you both did above the Deeping Wall."
I winced.
"Are you and Aragorn going to give me an angry speech about recklessness and not getting myself caught up in any more battles?"
For the briefest moment the gentle look on his face hardened with the memories of battle, death and fear from the night before.
"By all rights I should. What you did was incredibly dangerous. Brave, but dangerous. You could have easily been killed out there." But then he reached out and took one of my still slightly dirty, blood-stained hands tenderly in his, his expression softening again as he looked at me. "But no, I am not angry. I am far too relieved to see you alive and well, mîr nín."
I felt the sting of tears at the corners of my eyes again, and I blinked a couple of times past a smile to fight them back.
"So am I."
"Speaking of, that was an excellent shot you made from the stairs."
"I almost took your ear off!"
"Yet, instead you missed and saved my life," he grinned boyishly at me. "Quite the fortunate blunder."
I started fully giggling at that, inelegant and silly. It inexplicably set Legolas off chuckling too, which in turn set me off all over again.
We both just stood there together for a couple of minutes, laughing quietly like a pair of teenagers, heads bent towards each other as we tried and failed to compose ourselves. Legolas regained himself first and, grinning softly down at me, raising my hand to his face and pressed my still dirt-stained knuckles to his lips in a not-quite kiss. I came so close to making a joke about not putting filthy things near your mouth, but the touch was so tender and gentle it stopped all my sass right in its tracks.
The look he gave me when our eyes met again was also just about enough to stop my breathing along with it. I could feel the colour creeping up my neck to my cheeks. He seemed to feel the weight of my own stare too because I saw his ears beginning to turn pink. The both of us just stood there looking at each other for what felt like a long time, both of us suddenly inexplicably shy and unsure. Which was silly really, considering we'd already…well…
My eyes drifted to his lips for a second, my face heating even more as I realised he was looking at mine too.
My heartbeat skittered as he leaned down just enough to touch his forehead to mine, the warmth of his skin flooding into mine. The fingers of his other hand found mind and twined together, our noses close enough to brush against each other, our breath mingling…
"Lass! Princeling! You two better be down here after all these accursed stairs!" Gimli's voice boomed through both our heads, amplified by the acoustics of the cave.
I didn't jump out of my skin.
I did however freeze in complete and utter disbelief that we had been interrupted like this not once, not twice, but three damned times. Honestly, who the hell was writing the script of my life at this point?
From the incredulous look on his face Legolas clearly shared the sentiment. The pair of us turned to see Gimli hobbling his way down to the last few steps, stopping suddenly upon seeing our faces still barely inches from each other.
Our dwarf paused for what I can only assume was dramatic effect.
"Am I interrupting?" he asked us more than a little smugly. I could hear the wide grin even if I could barely see it behind his soot-covered beard.
"Yes," Legolas said flatly, at the exact moment I spluttered: "No!"
Gimli raised an eyebrow at us both, his smirk widening. I eyed Legolas sideways, trying to pretend my face wasn't turning hotter than an open furnace by now. Despite his annoyance at us being interrupted, I still saw his mouth twitch in an almost invisible cheeky smile. And to be fair, I hadn't had the heart to let go of his hand, giving it a small squeeze as we faced our friend properly.
"You alright, Gimli?" I asked hurriedly as he worked to catch his breath from the walk down, genuinely glad to see him well despite myself.
"Fine, fine, lass. Just a bit winded."
"Any particular reason you've hiked all the way down here to find us, my friend?" Legolas asked dryly. Gimili eyed him.
"Other than the satisfaction of seeing your pair of fools finally doing what you should have done weeks ago?" He asked, nodding at our joined hands, and I felt my cheeks heat all over again. "Theoden is calling for a small escort party to ride out to Isengard. The scouts have seen smoke rising from Isengard."
I felt more than saw Legolas' eyes narrow in confusion.
"What?" I asked, not understanding the significance. "What's wrong?"
"The Rohirrim did not pass through Isengard there on the way here. Eomer's men told us so. Whatever would cause smoke to rise from Isengard enough to be seen from here, it was not of Rohan," he explained before eyeing our dwarf. "They have no idea what could cause it?"
Gimli shrugged.
"Your guess is as good as mine, lad."
"Then we'd better go and help them find out what caused it, no? It's not like we don't have a bone to pick with Saruman anyway," I said, perhaps a bit more enthusiastically than intended – I was still feeling a tiny bit lightheaded from yet another near-miss. But I wasn't so far gone that when Gimli and Legolas both looked at me in near perfect unison I didn't eye them dubiously right back. "What? Are either of you going to try and persuade me to stay behind where it's safe again?" I asked flippantly.
Gimli snorted.
"Nah, lass. I like my head where it is, thanks."
"And you would only end up in the thick of another disaster anyhow," Legolas added deadpan, but I could see his smirk creeping back in again. I smirked back and swatted him fondly on the upper arm.
"Rude, but fair."
Just then, the room filled with light as some of the late morning sun hit the entrance to the caves above. The beams of daylight fell at such an angle that the light hitting the walls lit up the glittering veins of gemstones within like bloodstreams of opal. One moment the cavern had been dim and gloom-filled. The next, it had been illuminated by thousands of refractions in a hundred different colours.
"Incredible," Gimli breathed, turning on the spot to admire the beams as they bounced off the vaulted ceilings.
"Indeed," Legolas agreed softly.
I didn't realise until I turned back to smile up at him that he wasn't looking at the walls.
He was looking at me.
At the back of my mind a still exhausted Tink made a little whooping sound that wouldn't have been out of place at a football game. I just turned a probably unhealthy shade of red and looked away sheepishly, unable to hide exactly how happy that small comment from him had made me.
"Someday I would like to come back here, when all this is done," Gimli was saying, too enraptured by the beautiful caverns to notice the pair of us being complete idiots right behind him.
"I would be happy to accompany you when you do," Legolas stated, snapping out of it to step up and rest his free hand on the dwarf's broad shoulder.
"Likewise," I added with a low laugh, recovering too. "Perilous journey to the heart of a dark kingdom permitting of course."
Gimli groaned, shaking his head in exasperation at me.
"Mahal's beard, lass. One impossible task at a time. Some of us don't have your blind luck for surviving dire odds."
"Speaking of journeys, we should ready some of the horses," Legolas stated seriously, eyeing the beams of sunshine coming from the inlets above. "No doubt Theoden will wish to leave as soon as possible to make the bulk of the journey in daylight."
Gimli nodded, then sighed loudly, muttering something about 'bloody stairs' and 'really should have some dwarf artificers install an elevator' as he started to make the long climb back up to the entrance hall. I automatically went to follow him, but the hand still clasped in Legolas' stopped me. I turned back to find him looking down at me as if trying to decide on what he wanted to say.
"Eleanor…" he started, hesitating in a way that made me realise he was nervous. "I… at some point soon we should probably… talk at some point…"
I opened my mouth for a moment, closed it when I realised I was also nervous.
"We… yes, we probably should…"
"When things are a little quieter?"
"That sounds like a good idea."
He smiled minutely again, leaning down to my level ever so slightly, so that only I could hear.
"Later then?" He whispered to me, I thought my chest would burst from the surge of irrational happiness.
Without letting myself stop to overthink it or hesitate from nerves, I reached up and slipped my hand around the back of his neck, stood on my toes, and pressed a gentle kiss to his mouth. I felt surprised heat rush into his skin under my lips, and I couldn't help but beam up at him as I pulled quickly away. There was a pleasantly startled look stuck on his face.
"Later," I agreed quietly, my smile turning playful as I slid my hand reluctantly from around his neck. Then, with Tink once again whooping from the depths of my mind, I turned and began to climb the steps out of the caves, back into the morning sunlight.
A/N: A long awaited update at last. It took longer than I'd have liked to get back into the mood to actually write these wholesome idiots again. Not because I don't love writing them all, but because this year was very stressful work-wise (in a good way), and I really wanted to enjoy revisiting this world when I came back to it—not feel it as a chore. Despite the long wait, I'm really glad I didn't try and pick it up sooner. I'm not sure this chapter would have come out the way I wanted it to if I had.
As it stands, I'm quite proud of how it ended up. And thoroughly enjoyed writing real heartfelt dialogue between Ellie and the Fellowship again after such a lot of battle scenes and action. Next time should hopefully be an opportunity for more as we find out what's been going on over at Isengard…
Until then, much love,
Rella x