In the early morning hours, as three horses and three riders were being readied, an elf gracefully made his way across the courtyard, an elfling at either side. “My Lord!” shouted Erestor, catching the attention of Elrond, as well as the three Lorien brothers. “I thought it might be appropriate that Elladan and Elrohir be allowed to say their partings to Rumil, as he is likely not to return for some time. And,” added Erestor, with something of a glint of mischief in his eye, “as it has been many a year since they were introduced to Haldir and Orophin, perhaps they might again be presented, now that they will be old enough to remember them.”
No words were spoken as to the significance between the three brothers and the two – it was deemed unnecessary for the twins to be aware of other kin in these dark days. Rumil stepped in front of his brothers, and knelt down so that he was on the same level as the elflings. “I shall miss-“ Rumil swallowed hard, realizing how deep his sorrow truly would be to leave not only Imladris, but these two, whom he had seemingly adopted as his own brothers. “I shall miss you both.” Rumil hugged them both fiercely, and they him.
“Remember how I had told you I had brothers of my own?” Rumil asked when he had detangled the twins from him. They both nodded simultaneously, eyes wide with excitement and curiosity. “I would like you to meet my elder brother Orophin, and our eldest brother, Haldir.” Rumil stood as he presented his brothers to the twins, whose wide eyes were now paired with gaping mouths.
“The Grey Archer...” trailed Elrohir, eyes focused upon Orophin.
“...and the Cloaked Stranger...” Elladan whispered as he peered up at Haldir.
“I’m sorry?” Haldir knelt so that he was eye level with the twins. “I didn’t quite catch what you said, young one.”
“My brother said nothing.” Elrohir asserted, giving a short bow. “We are pleased to meet you, Haldir and Orophin o Lorien.” Elladan bowed as well, though throughout the formal farewells, the twins continued to sneak peeks at the oldest of the brothers.
- - -
At last, the brothers began their journey home, the Grey Archer and the Cloaked Stranger leading the way to the Golden Woods.
“I told you it was a silly place,” Orophin said to his brother. “A silly place, with silly elflings, and silly songs that they make up so that guests will remember them and be made to look silly when they sing them in their native lands.”
Haldir raised a brow. “I take it you were able to speak to Glorfindel about the limericks?”
“And Glorfindel!” huffed Orophin. “He’s the silliest of all, making up such songs.” Orophin turned round to pose the question of the silliness of Imladris to Rumil, but noted the worried look the youngest of them had. “What is the matter, my brother?” asked Orophin, pulling his horse back to where Rumil rode. “You seem as if you’ve... lost something.”
Rumil’s horse had slowed considerably since they had left, causing him to lag far behind. The young elf was also looking in the direction they had come every few seconds, and in his lap held gently but firmly was a roll of parchment. “Haven’t really lost anything, just looking for something.”
“Something, or someone?” wondered Haldir aloud as he, too, joined his youngest brother.
“Aye.” Rumil gave another look back, and as he did, so did Orophin and Haldir.
“Who are we looking for?” asked Orophin, scanning the trees behind them. They were answered by their horses, which jerked suddenly, halting their journey.
“Ride properly, and you may just find him,” grinned a youthful looking elf clad in the greens of the forest. “Suilad, Rumil. I trust these are the brothers of which I have heard you speak.”
“Aye, Legolas, that they are. Brothers, my friend Legolas, an elf of the Greenwood.” Rumil introduced each brother, then bowed from atop his horse as he handed the roll of parchment to Legolas. “I did not take the time to draw the two images of Lothlorien as I had said I would.”
“You are more than generous to have spent your last days in Imladris remembering Lorien instead of-“ the prince stopped, awestruck as he found not one rendering, but four drawings rolled loosely, each accented with a different color. Haldir and Orophin edged closer to get a better look. “Blue to highlight the waters of Mithlond... red as the brick of the Last Homely House... golden leaves upon the mellyrn... and green trees in my own dear homeland. But you’ve forgotten the orcs in Greenwood,” jested Legolas good-naturedly. “I thank you, and I am sure my father would have thanked you personally if you would have presented these to him.”
“I did not want to be rude to Lord Elrond. For all his hospitality, I had not a gift to present him with,” Rumil admitted, adding to himself in his mind, ‘Yet...”
“You live with orcs in your forest?” questioned Orophin.
Legolas rolled the drawings once again. “Well, it isn’t as if we invited them there.”
“We kill the orcs in our forest,” Orophin remarked.
“We kill the ones in our forest as well. Obviously.” Legolas tucked the scrolls into his saddlebags. “But they are numerous, and what with the giant spiders hanging overhead, it is more of a challenge.”
“Your talans are infested with giant spiders? Dreadful.” Orophin shivered slightly at the thought of rogue spiders crawling from flet to flet.
Haldir had come around so that Orophin was between him and Legolas as he leaned over and whispered, “He doesn’t live in a tree, Oro, he’s one of those cave-dwellers.”
“I would live in a tree if I could,” countered Legolas. “I did in fact live in a tree once.”
“So, if this forest of yours is infested as you say, and you’d rather live in a tree as it were, why not just go find another forest to live in?” suggested Orophin.
“Because it is my home,” defended Legolas. “If all the trees in Lothlorien were to suddenly die and fall over, would you merely find another forest, or find a way to sustain yourselves in Lorien?”
“Trees of Lorien fall?” scoffed Haldir. “Perhaps you have never seen the Great Mallorn.”
“I told you he was the mean one,” came a small, yet muffled voice from a clutch of young trees not far away. “He’s taunting the Prince of Mirkwood, that can’t be good.”
“And the Grey Archer... he seems so much more noble in the stories,” another voice answered, so similar, and yet from a different source.
“Prince of Mirkwood?” questioned Haldir with arched brow, but in the moment he had looked to where the voices came from, Legolas had gone.
“Oh, good, you scared him off. And I was really interested in what he had to say,” pouted Orophin. Rumil and Haldir were making their way to the area where the voices had come from as the pounding of hooves alerted them to further visitors.
“Have you seen Elrohir and Elladan?” called out Glorfindel as he approached upon Asfaloth. Not far behind was Erestor, a none too pleased look upon his face.
“Seen, no. Heard, yes,” answered Rumil, reaching behind the trees to catch a elfling in an attempt to escape. Haldir caught the second, who seemed not to put up a fight after the first was captured.
Glorfindel dismounted as he came past, leaping to the ground and taking up a heroic stance, to which Erestor rolled his eyes mightily as his horse trotted to the scene. “The two of you should not wander,” reprimanded Glorfindel. “The forest is dangerous, and your parents are worried.” The twins both looked down at their feet, which was harder for Elrohir, considering Haldir had hold of him under his arm. Rumil nudged Haldir, coughed, and gave a stern look at the manner in which Haldir held onto Elrohir.
“What?” Haldir placed Elrohir into a standing position in front of him, placing a hand upon the elfling’s shoulder as Rumil had done with Elladan. “We used to carry you around like that all the time when you were his age.”
“That explains many things,” added Erestor under his breath.
“Must we go back now?” Elladan made his saddest face possible. “We missed Rumil already, and he said we could visit him sometime in Lothlorien.”
“Sometime, but not this time. His parents miss him, and he must return to be with his family,” Glorfindel explained.
“But we want to come with him,” pleaded Elrohir. “We’re like part of his family, too.”
‘You don’t know how right you are,’ thought Rumil. “We will see one another again soon. My parents worry about my return, as do yours for your return. Another day, little ones. Remember,” added Rumil, “We are the children of Iluvatar. We are all of one family. And we have all the time in the world to see each other again.”
This finally seemed to satisfy the twins, and after once again saying goodbye, they rode back to Imladris with Glorfindel and Erestor.
“I heard them say that Cloaked Stranger thing again. And, something about a Grey Archer. I tell you, Haldir, this is a silly, silly place,” Orophin said, shaking his head.
“It is a beautiful, wondrous place,” Rumil countered, riding now between the other two.
“What a day it has been, and not even have we yet stopped for lunch,” remarked Haldir. Turning to Rumil, he asked, “So, my brother, are you anxious to return once again to your home?”
Rumil took one final look over his shoulder, unable to make out the path back to Imladris, or the cliffs that marked where the valley was hidden. “Yes. I look forward to the day when I shall return.”
