The Sindarin words filled the clearing with noise.

'You hurt her, Legolas,' Tondfael's voice was edged with concern, 'I doubt you meant to, but you did…'

The other Elf had his back to the Aratirith.  He looked out to the forest, almost as if listening to it, his Wood Elf blood coming to the fore instead of his Sindar.  The anger which had previously burned in his eyes was fading away, and being replaced by an emptiness.  'I know,' he replied in icy tones.

'Don't think she finds it easy to leave you or anyone else.  My cousin goes because she wants to.  That doesn't mean she doesn't wish to stay, as well.  And in a few months you'll be together for always.'

'And the order of the Aratirith will have the promise that she'd die for them!'  Retorted Legolas, turning around.  'Do you think I find it easy, Tondfael, to deal with the fact that she will give up a part of her soul to protect Aragorn?  That she shall never wholly and truly be mine?  It is hard enough coming to accept the fact that she shall never stay in one place for long anyhow…'  He stopped slowly, eyes still locked with Tondfael's darker ones.  'I love her, Tondfael, and I can never have her as completely as I wish.'

The other Elf's look softened as he understood the reason for the Prince's anger.  Hard as it may be to believe, Legolas Thranduilion was jealous of him, and of all the Aratirith, and indeed of anyone who might draw his grey stone away from him.  Tondfael took a step forward, and laid a soothing hand upon his companion's shoulder.  'I think I begin to understand you better now, Legolas.'  He smiled softly, waiting for Legolas to return the smile, and for the fire to calm in his blue eyes, before he spoke again.  'And I think you can be forgiven of a little of your anger, because your feelings are just and reasonable.  You love Mithmír Rochiwen, and it is only natural that you should be less than completely happy for her to take on such a great responsibility as that the Aratirith do.  But you love her for her wild, untamable spirit, and that is exactly why she shall always wander, and why she shall always fight and risk her life.

'And be sure, Legolas Thranduilion,' he looked serious, and gripped the other Elf's shoulder tighter, 'that she loves you equally as much.  Her eyes light up when she sees you, and when her words turn to you she smiles as the thought of no one else can make her smile.  It makes me glad to see how much love she can hold in a warrior's heart.  It often happens that those who have lived by the sword for nearly all their lives lose the ability to love those pleasures that peace brings; but Mithmír is not affected by this, and to you she wants to give herself completely.  She wants to marry you, Legolas.  I even think that, when she is ready, she wants to bear your children, and for a maiden who has so long denied her own femininity, that is a great thing.  I do not doubt for a second that my beloved cousin wants to spend her entire life with you, Legolas.  Count yourself as lucky; and know that your feelings are returned with equal force.  But keep the promise she has told me you made to her: never tie her down, never hold her back, or else you shall extinguish that spirit which you love so dearly.  Let her wander as she will, and she shall come back to you.  Let her fight as she feels the need to, and she shall take greater care of herself.  Let her become an Aratirith, Legolas, and be sure that the others of that order – we, her family – will protect her from any harm or other danger, for her sake and yours.  We care for her, the youngest of our family, the Half-Elf turned immortal, not only because of our love and memory of her mother, but out of our fondness for her, the Elven Dúnedain.  Also, do you really think that Aragorn would ever put his niece into any situation that was mortally dangerous?  And do you think Queen Arwen would let her husband into such a situation himself, with or without one of the most skilled fighters in Middle Earth at his side?'  Tondfael smiled a little, wryly.  'Now the War is over, people can afford to be much more careful with their loved ones, now that battles shall be fewer and of less consequence.  Anyhow, I assure you: she shall be one of the safest and most protected High Guards that there ever was, but it would be better not to tell her that.  She could not understand it is love which makes us so protective.  And Legolas,' he leaned forward and softened his voice to a whisper, 'she does love you wholly and completely and above all else under Ilúvatar.  She should die for you.'

And then Legolas was speechless, for the words of the wise Aratirith who had seen so much – who had the gift of reading other's emotions – touched him to the core; and he knew then that they were true and always had been.  His blue eyes widened with regret at his previous behavior, and he embraced the other Elf closely.  'You are right, Tondfael, cousin of Mithmír Rochiwen.  Thank you, for all you have done.  I shall let her go, and not grudge her this.'

Tondfael smiled softly, and after a quick nod of his head slipped from the clearing on silent feet.  His work was done.  Meanwhile Legolas stayed there alone for a while longer, thinking on what he had finally realized.  He was aware of his love as soon as she came near, however, and he looked up eagerly, his eyes bright and his hair whipping around as he turned his head.  He noticed two things about her immediately: first the ring on her finger and the power emanating from it.  Secondly, she wore upon her wrist the silver friendship-bracelet gifted to her by Haldir, Tirathnavir and Anoniel, which she had not worn for many long months.  After Sam had noticed it when they were drawing near to Mordor, Mithmír had taken to not wearing it and keeping it in the bottom of her pack instead.  She would not have liked for it to have been broken during fighting or taken from her by some orc.  She had shown it to Legolas once in Gondor, but not since.  This was the first time he had seen her wearing it in many long days, and he thought – rightly – she wore it now to remember her old friends as she traveled to meet them.

Mithmír stopped walking when she saw him, and looked at him with silent awkwardness.  She bit her lip slightly, unsure of what mood he was now in, for she knew not how the talks with Tondfael had been.

Legolas got up slowly, completely awed by her beauty – seeing it again as if it were the day when she had first said "yes" to his proposal – though she looked just the same as she always had.  'Silfëa,' he greeted her in a breathless whisper, before moving towards her and, with all his impatient desire to show her how he truly felt, kissed her slowly and gently, barely touching her lips with his, drawing her close to him.

'Promise me,' he urged, punctuating his words with tiny kisses, 'promise me, nín meleth, that you shall return to me…'

'How could I do anything else?'  She asked, her voice more husky than usual, and her cheeks flushed.  'I love you, Legolas.  I shall return and,' her dark eyes met his, and they were genuine, 'I shall marry you.'

'I love you, my shining spirit, my hope, my love, my only…  Please hurry back to my side.  After visiting the sea but once, months ago, I have not been able to rid my mind of the sounds of gulls on the wing and waves on the shore.  It calls me even as Galadriel said it would…  And your voice can drown out those sounds in my mind.  Three people keep me on these shores: Aragorn, Gimli and most of all you.  I shall stay here until you are ready to leave.  You know that.  But when you are gone from my side, the call is so great it is so hard not to follow it…' and then his eyes became distanced from hers, and in a hushed voice he recited,

'Pân celyn sirian aer, pân faer reviad bardôr.' 

All rivers flow to the sea, all spirits return to their homeland.

They both knew the old Elven saying, but at that time Mithmír realized the significance of it: Legolas would sail over the Sea, it was only a matter of time.  He waited for those he loved, despite how hard it was for him.

'Return to me, before I am swept away in the river,' he whispered into her ear, nuzzling her close as his warm breath caressed her skin.

'I will,' she promised.  After a while, she pulled away, as loath as she was to do so, and held up her hand to him.  'See Galadriel's present?  It is Tegalu, a –'

'A ring to make you a fair Elven Lady of Ithilien,' finished Legolas with a slight smile.  'Celeborn has told me about it.  It is a wondrous gift.  And you deserve it.'

She smiled softly.  'Thank you.  It's beautiful...'

'Not as beautiful as you.'  The next kiss was deeper than the last, more passionate.  Mithmír pulled away just before she drowned in the fast-paced emotions.

'I have to go, Legolas,' she said regretfully.  'But I swear I shall return to you, before the river sweeps you to the sea.  When your spirit does return to its homeland, I shall be beside you.  I swear.'  She kissed him once more, fleetingly, and then ran away so fast he could not see her tears.

Aragorn embraced his nice one last time, unashamed of his tears.  He had to stand awkward on tiptoes, for she was mounted now on Brialvastor, and her faithful stead was restless and eager to move out on a long ride such as he used to share with his human companion.  He tossed his head about, and no matter how soothing Mithmír's hands in his mane and on his neck were, he still shifted about and sidestepped a little.  Mithmír was riding with only a saddle now, no reins or bridle, and she carried with her daggers, bow and sword.

It was Tondfael's turn to hold her close next, and he kissed her cheeks and her forehead softly.  'Come back to us soon, Mithmír,' he said with a smile as he drew away, letting go of her hand.  'I shall see you next for your marriage – and for your initiation as an Aratirith.'

'I'll miss you, my butterfly child,' smiled Aragorn through his tears.  'Take care of yourself.'

'I will,' she replied.  'I will.'

'Wish Haldir and Tirathnavir all happiness.'

'I will.'

'Go now, Mithmír Rochiwen, the maid of horses.  Ride as you were once famous for.'

She smiled back at them, tears falling down her cheeks, and then with a soft word to Brialvastor he moved at a fast trot away, and soon was cantering off along the bare path through the woods.  She did not look back, and their eyes did not leave her.

'Travel well, cousin,' whispered Tondfael.  'And hurry back to those who love you.'

~~  Pân celyn sirian aer, pân faer reviad bardôr  ~~

***

Here ends All Rivers Flow To The Sea, the second part of Trenarn o laeg-lass a mith-mír.  The story is continued in Silfëa.

***

Thank you so much for all your wonderful help and support.  I'd love it if you could review now, even if you haven't managed to review any other chapters.  Any 'regulars', I'd love your opinions too!  I really hoped you enjoyed the story, and as you now know there will indeed be a third, and perhaps some short stories too.  I just want you to all know that your help and comments are greatly appreciated.  I can't put into words how wonderful it is to know I'm not the only one who enjoys hearing about Mithmír.

I should start the next fic a.s.a.p, and I have nearly finished Elven Dúnedain, too.

Thank you again!  I promise there will be more Mithmír Rochiwen soon.

-- Annaicuru