7Sometimes an idea takes a while to brew, and so it is with EverleighBain's Christmas request. It's going to take a while and is slow in the writing, so I offer this smaller tale in hopes it will serve in the meantime.
Merry Christmas, my dear friend!
Long ago, before the Age of Men, before the last of the Elves sailed West to the Undying Lands, there was a valley deep in the north, at the feet of the Misty Mountains. In this valley dwelt Elrond Halfelven, Master of Rivendell, his wife and children, and many elves who had made the valley their home. It was a peaceful time, a time to laugh and bring forth children, to enjoy small, sweet delights such as roaring waterfalls and blooming meadows, children's laughter and the sweet innocence of their smiles.
In this valley there lived also a cobbler, though he had throughout his long life learned many trades and seen many lands, some now under the sea. He had a small shop just across from the silversmith, and down from the chandler's shop. A simple elf, he laughed often and when the day was done, would sit at the top of the valley, watching the stars and listening to the songs rising from the Hall of Fire, far below. He was a generous soul, and often helped his neighbors with small tasks, inconsequential things that lightened their chores during the day.
His fast friends were the tanner and the cabinet maker, and his shop smelled of leather and oil, with a hint of wood and a touch of pine from the candle burning on the small table near the doorway. Goods were shown in his windows: not just shoes and boots, though there were plenty of those, but also belts and vambrances, harnesses and bridles for horses. One saddle, decorated with ivy and a cunning woven design, had sat in the spot of honor, just inside the shop, until one of the guard had come and purchased it. There were even smaller saddles for ponies and short reins with loops at the end to teach the young to ride. Hair ties for women, woven bracelets of soft leather, quivers for arrows, and, at one time, a set of beautifully carved wood chairs, with leather seats that were so soft to the touch you might have thought them fabric.
The cobbler was far more than he seemed.
One day, a child stood in the doorway, for a moment indecisive, then closed it and waited. Sure enough, before she had seen all there was to see on the shelves, the cobbler emerged from the back and smiled as he saw who was waiting. "Lady Arwen. It is a pleasure to see you."
She smiled and clutched her doll a bit closer to her chest. "Nana does not know I'm here, nor Ada."
"I see." Kneeling down so that he was nearer to eye level, he gave a solemn look. "Is there something you need assistance with?"
Pursing her lips, Arwen considered for a moment, then nodded and held her doll out. "Sirielle's slippers keep falling off." As if to emphasize the point, one of the delicate slippers fell to the floor, exposing the doll's tiny foot with its exquisite toes.
"Poor girl." Picking the tiny slipper up, he examined it. Light blue, silken material far too delicate to last, and beautifully embroidered, likely by the Master's wife. He nodded. "I can fix this slipper easily, if that is what you want?"
"Can you show me what is wrong with it?" Arwen moved closer to see what he was doing.
Grey eyes warmed as he smiled. "I would be pleased to show you." He hesitated. "Is your nana going to be looking for you, my lady?"
"She's just over there." Arwen pointed with her free arm to the silversmith's shop. "See? Amaraith is watching me. She knows I'm here and will tell nana."
Rising to his feet, the elf caught the maid's eye and nodded. She smiled and went in the shop and he looked down at Arwen. "Shall we get those slippers fixed so Sirielle can dance?"
Giggling, Arwen took his offered hand and followed him back into the shop where the sewing machines with their pedals and wheels, the tall row of little drawers, and the press awaited the day's work. Trailing one hand across the supple hide of a steer, she let the cobbler lead her to where his needles and thread were, and accepted the short stool he pulled out from under a table for her.
He hummed as he worked, and Arwen swung her feet in time to the tune, content to watch as he threaded a needle with the exact shade of blue to match Sirielle's slipper, then set a pair of spectacles on his nose before beginning to sew.
"Can you not see well enough without them?"
A child's question, it was innocent of malice and he smiled, looking up and making her giggle again with the way the glasses enlarged his eyes. "Indeed, I can, young lady. But when you work on such delicate things as Sirielle's slippers…well, I don't wish to put in a crooked stitch, now do I?"
"Oh no." Arwen sobered. "I should not like that either." She watched him first neatly remove the stitching at the back of the slipper, trim the tiniest bit of silk away, and then he looked up and smiled again.
"Would Sirielle please put her slipper on to make sure the size is correct?"
Arwen shifted the doll, raised the dress to show just her ankles and foot, and watched as he carefully slid the slipper on before nodding.
"Perfect." He met her curious gaze. "Shall I size the other one as well, my lady, or does it stay on?"
"Let's check it to make sure." Arwen watched the long, lean fingers nimbly check the other slipper. "It seems just the tiniest bit loose, doesn't it?"
"Yes." He took the second slipper as well and met her gaze. "You have a good eye, my lady."
Arwen beamed at the compliment and swung her feet as he sat back and began to hum again. In what seemed no time at all, he had the slippers re-sized, sewn back together and on Sirielle's feet again. "Now." He removed the spectacles and held Arwen's gaze. "Should she begin to lose her slippers again, come back and we shall fix them again. All right?"
"Yes." Arwen hopped off the stool and beamed at him. "Thank you ever so much. What do I owe you for your time?"
"Not a thing, my lady." He held out his hand, and smiled gently when she took it. "You are always welcome here, Arwen Elrondiel."
The door opened then and Amaraith stood in the doorway. "Arwen? Come along now, let's leave the cobbler to his work."
"He did not mind and Sirielle's slippers are fixed. Look! See how delicate the stitching is? I want to show Nana!" She slipped past the maid and ran across the lane to where Celebrían stood.
Amaraith and the cobbler watched as Celebrían bent to examine the doll's slippers, exclaiming over them. "You fixed a doll's shoes?"
"Why not." He smiled and winked. "Such a charming patron, after all, and less talkative certainly than Lady Bellethiel."
Nudging him with her elbow, Amaraith grinned. "Best not let that lady hear you, hmm?"
"Never fear, my sister." He took her elbow and pressed the door open wide. "You'd best get a move on. It appears the ladies are going to the chandler."
"Ugh. I would like to miss that, but yes." A quick smile and she hurried after her lady and Arwen.
The cobbler laughed as Arwen turned and waved right before they entered the chandler's shop and waved back. Humming a merry tune, he went back to work with a light heart.
Twenty-five years later….
"My lady!" The cobbler stood and removed his spectacles, giving a polite bow. "You grace my shop."
Little had changed over the years. The trend in the valley towards elegant, simple designs in saddles was Celebrían's influence, and the scribe's in Master Elrond's library still came to request bindings and covers. The guard still came to him for boots and scabbards, quivers and girths, all things that wear out with constant use. Now though there were also tapestries and other woven goods, bolts of cloth and even a chair with a woven cover to grace a lady's sitting room if so desired.
The Cobbler had taken a wife, a weaver of tapestries and beautiful cloth sought after by the ladies of the valley. Just behind his shop there was now a greenhouse and small worms, brought from far, far east, spun exquisite silk that was made into even more exquisite clothing.
"I have to ask something of you again." Checking behind her, Arwen closed the door and hurried forward. "Can we go back in the shop and speak?"
"Of course." He let himself be chivied to the back, an amused smile tipping his lips. "Are we in a hurry?"
Arwen rolled her eyes. "My brothers think I cannot go to the shops without their constant supervision, as if something would happen to me here in father's valley!"
That sobered the cobbler and he put his hand to his heart. "Upon my word, my lady, no harm will come to you here. Not while I draw breath."
Her smile lit the shop, still a little bit girlish, but showing through the beauty of the woman she would become in a very short time. "As I told them! They are dunderheads at times, obsessed with swords and the hunt." A gleam entered her eye. "Which is why I need your help."
Trying to hide his alarm, the cobbler hesitated only a moment. "You wish for…."
"Adar said I could go with them next time they take the hawks out hunting, but I cannot ride this mud in my slippers and the boots you made last autumn are too short. I would have brought them but…."
"Ah yes." He smiled and took her elbow, leading her to a stool. "I have an older sister, my lady. You need not explain."
He pulled out a bit of hide that looked as though it had been scraped and re-scraped many times and set it upon the ground. Arwen removed her slippers and put her feet on the hide and watched the door anxiously as he measured her feet. "Ah…my lady, you really should have a maid here." Leaning back on his heels, he smiled for her confusion. "I need to measure your ankles."
"Oh fuss and nonsense!" Arwen lifted her skirt to show her ankles. "They're ankles, like anyone else's, I am not ashamed of them."
He laughed and set about carefully measuring them, without touching a wit higher. "It is not about being ashamed, my lady." Tape measure in hand, the cobbler sat on his own stool and met her indignant gaze. "It is about respect, Arwen Elrondiel. We all respect your parents a great deal, and you know well how much everyone in this valley treasures you children."
"Not everyone."
Tousled hair, she was unselfconscious as yet about how the wind in the valley played through her hair. Braid a bit askew, cloak tied with a ribbon but the bow loop on one side had the majority of the fabric and the other was a miserly loop, the cobbler shook his head, eyes warm with affection. "Pay them no mind, my lady. One day they will bend their proud knees to you, I promise."
"That's what Gofi says." Arwen laughed at how he tried to hide his grin. "He does not mind, for all his huffing and play, but naneth says I must begin to show respect for people or they will not respect me."
"We will always respect you, Elrondiel." The cobbler's grey eyes had not the light of the Trees, but age…oh, there was star light in them that spoke of countless years of walking Arda. "Your mother is wise, though. There is a respect earned for how a person lives and treats others, and there is the respect that is merely owed one for their position in life and sometimes is grudgingly offered."
Wrinkling her nose, Arwen shook her head. "I wish for the first kind, as I see with my parents."
"And your brothers?"
A pained look and she sighed. "Sometimes. Elladan is noble in heart, he is much like my father, but Elrohir is a scamp. Nana says he takes after our grandmother's brothers." Pursing her lips, she thought a moment. "I hope she means Finrod, though I do not wish to see my brother fight a werewolf."
"Lord Finrod was a great man, my lady."
Looking at him in surprise, Arwen recognized the sad expression and distant gaze that spoke of walking back through time in memory. She reached out to touch his arm. "I am sorry, Sadron. I did not mean to stir memories best left settled."
Blinking back into the present, he shook his head, eyes still full of memory. "They are not all sad, my lady. I was young when Nargothrond was built, but I well remember the laughter and joy of your uncle and how kind he was." He winked and patted her hand. "Lord Elrohir has a good heart as well, Lady Arwen. It just takes some of us a bit longer to work past our exuberant energy."
Arwen laughed. "Exuberant! Yes, that is it exactly." She stood. "I must get going for they will track me to your shop, no mistake in that. You have the sketch I gave you?"
"You measured carefully?"
She nodded and grinned. "I knew you would need them, and would be too noble to ask to do them yourself."
Sadron stood and slanted a look at her. "That would be most improper, my lady."
Arwen sighed. "Glorfindel tells us all the time that a hröa is just a hröa and everyone has one, so we should not become so enamored of our own that we develop complexes." Another wrinkle of the nose and she shook her head. "I think I understand, though he does say things at times that make little sense to me. Naneth says he is wise and I should listen."
"Lord Glorfindel is very wise, as is your mother."
Both elves looked to the door a moment before it burst open and two elves, as alike in face and build as is possible, entered the store. Immediately one of them laughed. "Ha! I told you, Adi!"
The other shook his head, a dark swathe of hair sliding over his shoulder. "Hello, Sadron. Arwen, did your doll lose another shoe?"
Noting the gleam in her brother's grey eyes, Arwen raised her chin and marched past both of them to the door. "If you two are done being rude to Sadron, I am ready to go." She turned and gave Sadron a smile and nod. "Thank you for your assistance."
"My lady." Sadron bowed, hand to his heart and easily met Elrohir's curious gaze. "My lords."
Elladan nodded to the cobbler before turning to follow his sister, but Elrohir leaned a hip against the table. "What was she really here for? She's mad to go hunting with us, you know. Boots? Adar told her she could come, but she's not going to like seeing the game being taken down."
"We all must test our limits, my lord. Even the proudest hawk returns to the hand of a kind master."
Elrohir shook his head and laughed. "You sound like Glorfindel. Or Erestor."
"ELROHIR!"
"Ah, my genteel sister bellows for me." With a cheeky grin, Elrohir saluted Sador and swept out of the shop, closing the door with a loud thump.
Sador shook his head and laughed, going back to work. It was never dull with the Master's children around.
The last day of the year arrived fine and cold, a blanket of snow making the gardens, hills and cliffs sparkle as though Eru Himself had reached down to touch His lands so that a bit of beauty from beyond the world shown through to Middle-earth. Mettarë, the Men of the West called it, and Imladris honored that tradition though their own celebration came later, in spring.
Arwen, arms full of bundles, wrapped in bright fabric scraps her mother told her she could use, kicked at the door of her brother's suite of rooms and waited impatiently. She could hear them laughing, and after what seemed an age, the door opened.
"Ah, look, brother. Gifts from your admirers arrive already!"
Pushing past him, Arwen rolled her eyes. "Elrohir, you could offer to help me, like a gentleman."
He laughed and watched her set the bundle down. "I could, but you seemed to have them perfectly balanced and I did not wish to upset your balance today, sister mine."
Giving him a pert look, she stuck her tongue out.
"Your face will freeze that way." Quick as a lightning strike, Elladan tapped her nose and grinned as she huffed at him. "What is it you bring besides the joy of your presence, sister?"
"Joy of presents?" Elrohir draped himself gracefully over a nearby settee. "Adi did receive some from-"
"As did you, only I did not flirt outrageously with the senders."
"Is there such a thing as flirting circumspectly?"
Before the verbal sparring erupted into the physical manifestation, Arwen held up an imperious hand. "Attend me, please."
Spoken in such a similar fashion to their own sire that both brothers immediately dropped their banter and turned to look at her in surprise. Even Elrohir could not think of anything to say as she bestowed upon them a smug smile.
"Thank you. I brought you presents, and before you say a word…" She held up her other hand. "I have a purpose for this."
"Then carry on, please." Elladan shoved his brother's legs away and sat on the same long settee, watching his sister with an affectionate smile.
"Yes, please. Ignore the oaf to my left and…ow." He rubbed his arm and lifted an eyebrow at his brother who gazed back calmly as an unrippled stream. "Carry on."
Picking a bundle, wrapped in green and blues, Arwen winked at her eldest brother as she set it in front of Elrohir. "We'll settle him first, like Nana and Ada always do."
With a shrug, Elrohir sat up and took the present in his hands. "I am naturally energetic."
The snort was Elladan, shaking his head. "Gofi's way of saying you're like a hound with a trail to follow."
"Open it!" Arwen bounced on her toes, eyes hopeful.
Smiling, Elrohir did as commanded and his eyes widened. "Arwen, it's beautiful!"
Bouncing still, she grinned. "I saw how ratty that bridle and reins of yours was getting and Glorfindel helped me with the design." Holly intertwined with the design of a magpie along with runes at the headstall. "The runes are of protection."
"Thank you, Arwen." He pushed up and leaned over to kiss her cheek. "It's perfect!"
Seeing him settle again, examining the bridle and reins, Arwen picked up the blood red bundle and set it in Elladan's lap. "For you."
A smile tipped his lips and lit his eyes as he slowly unwrapped the fabric to reveal the present. His eyes widened and his smile grew. "How did you know?"
She grinned in delight as he pulled gloves out of the large bundle of cloth she had wrapped them in to disguise the shape. "Your pair was getting smooth. I saw it last time you rode the hunt. Your reins kept sliding."
Setting the gloves aside, Elladan knelt to engulf his sister in a hug. "You are an observant one, aren't you?" A kiss to her cheek and he set her back to smile. "Thank you, sweetling."
The gloves were dark brown leather, and had the very fine stitching that would hold up to what the young master would put it to. They too had a design on the back, of a young stag surrounded by a forest.
"What is the last bundle?"
"My gift for me." A cheeky grin and Arwen settled between her brothers and opened the blue and silver bundle. "I asked Sador to make them for me for when we hunt the hawks tomorrow morning."
Elrohir whistled and reached out to touch the soft brown leather. "Nice."
Elladan was more somber for a moment. "You took the measurements to him?"
"Of course!" She nudged him and grinned. "He is far too respectful to do anything wrong!"
The smile came back to his eyes. "He is a good man. And the boots are beautiful. You are certain you still wish to go?"
"I do." She met the steady gaze. "I know the hawks tear and rip their prey, Adi. I won't fail you."
"You would not fail us," he assured her and met his brother's gaze over her head. "I believe it was Elrohir who squawked the first time his hawk took a rabbit and broke it's back with a snap that made us both cringe."
"I still hear that sound." Elrohir wrinkled his nose. "Bone crunches are disgusting but normal."
"As are feathers flying and shrieking sounds of the prey." Arwen was steady under the dual gazes. "I spoke to father and Glorfindel both. They made sure I would be prepared."
"Well then…"
Elrohir shrugged. "It seems we will welcome you to the hunt tomorrow."
Arwen nodded then turned to Elladan. "Put them on! See if they fit. And you." She turned to Elrohir. "Let's go see if Revion likes his new bridle!"
Two thousand years later….
"My lady!" Sadron leaped to his feet as he saw who had walked through his door. He bowed, heart to his hand. "Your presence always lightens my shop."
Arwen smiled, though the stars that usually resided in her eyes were somewhat dimmed, nor was her smile as full as usual. "I have come with yet another request, my friend."
"You need only ask." For Sadron, as well as every being in Imladris, knew what the next ten days would bring. "What is it you require?"
She handed him a scrap of parchment, there with numbers written upon it, and a second, of a drawing. "Would you be able to make these vambrances with this design? Is it clear enough?"
Sador spread it on the table and gazed for a long while. He smiled and nodded. "It is exquisite, my lady." Did you the drawing yourself?"
"My brothers helped, but this." She pointed to a detail. "Would that be possible?"
"Easily so, my lady." He looked up and shook his head. "I take it the measurements are correct?"
She laughed then, and the light seemed brighter for it. "I should hope so! Elladan took them and he is incredibly accurate with details."
"He is, yes." Sadron nodded as he thought. "Come and see the hides I have that are suitable. Choose which you would have me make this from and I shall begin upon it immediately."
They roamed back to where the racks and shelves held the beautifully tanned hides of steer, deer and goats and Arwen found the perfect dark hide that would be dyed to a darker shade. The person it would be gifted to would have need of stealthy and nothing too bright or too fancy would do for him.
"There is one other request that goes with this, Sador." Arwen was solemn as she faced him, her grey eyes holding his gaze. "The one who will wear these is going to face mortal danger and I would like to sing protections into the making of them."
Sador's eyes softened and he nodded. "Of course." He knew of whom she spoke, knew from his sister what dreams were tethered to the future of the man of hope. "I would have put my own will into the making of them, but -"
"Yes, please do." She gave him a thoughtful look, eyes unfocused for a moment. "The runes are protective as well, but yes. Please, do as usual, but when you are working the design into the leather, then I will sing over them."
Powerful protections indeed. Sador, hand to his heart, bowed. "I will ask my sister to let you know, Lady Arwen."
"Oh, I almost became too caught in my own concerns to ask you. How is Melima? Adar said she injured her arm in one of the looms?"
"She does well, thank you." He shook his head. "A very strange accident, the loom fell over and broke upon her arm as she was moving it, but she is healing quickly." He smiled then, a quiet delight. "It was my chance to take care of her as she has me for all of these years."
"I will stop and see her soon, but give her my regards." She paused in the doorway. "Tell her the material she helped me weave is perfect. I told her as well, but perhaps she will listen to her beloved husband better."
He laughed. "I will tell her."
With a last smile, Arwen left, her plans put in motion.
They would leave in the morn, and she knew that he needed his rest, but also that he would likely not sleep much.
He had become too used to sleeping on the hard ground, a root for a pillow and the forest sounds, to be completely comfortable in the soft bed that was in his room in Rivendell. Home it was to him, for his heart was there, but he was restless as ever with the desire to complete the great task set to him. Now, an even more dire quest would potentially seal their fate, and her father held hope, but so little.
Too little. Arwen was never one to sit and do nothing.
She found him standing before a mural, gazing at the lifelike images there. Watching him silently for a while, she drank in the beloved features, before moving forward to stand at his side.
He knew she was there, of course; little slipped past this Man of the West. Elven trained, wise and canny from years of living in the Wild, Aragorn turned to greet her with a smile.
"What keeps you from your slumber, Dúnadan?"
"Many questions, my lady." He took the hand she held out, enfolding it between his and smiled softly. Arwen illuminated the darkest night for him, her presence a balm to his afflicted soul. "Yet now, seeing the great reward before me, I cannot help but long to be off on the quest."
"I have something for you." With her free hand, Arwen held out the velvet bag she had sewn and embroidered. "A gift for what lays ahead."
"Arwen."
"Take it." She laughed softly and pushed it towards him until he released her hand and took it. "I wish to see if we guessed aright."
"We?" Eyebrow arching, Aragorn hefted the bag as if testing the weight of it. "I take it your brothers had a hand in this as well?"
"The children of Elrond would see you succeed."
He grew solemn, grey eyes sober. "Even as it brings sadness."
"What joy is ne'er touched by sadness, beloved?" Arwen reached to stroke his face, smoothing his hair back from his forehead. "Look and see."
With a nod, Aragorn opened the bag and withdrew the leather vambrances, shaking his head in wonder as he admired them. "These are beautiful, Arwen." Runes melded with the design of ships and forests, the sea and the Mariner's great star as well as the tree and seven stars. Aragorn traced them with his fingers, reading there the love and protection set into the leather. His fingers stopped as they came upon a small nightingale. "Vanimelda…these are wondrous."
"See here." She stepped closer and showed him that the nightingale hid a compartment and within there were two items.
Aragorn drew the small handkerchief out, bringing it to his face with a smile. It was scented with her perfume, and inside he found a curling lock of dark silken hair. He swallowed hard and looked up to meet her gaze.
"The road will be hard, but I will watch over you. If it grows too dark…" She covered his hand. "Never doubt I love thee."
"Never." He leaned in and pressed his forehead to hers. "I love thee, Undómiel. I will not fail."
"I know you will not."
The moon smiled upon the two as they kissed and somewhere near the nightingale's song sealed the promise.
One and a half years later….
"My lady." Amaraith held the case out to Arwen. It was covered in white leather that had blooming flowers worked into it, and in one corner, a singing nightingale. "My brother bid me to give this to you." She knelt at Arwen's feet and looked up at the bride with a soft smile. "Long ago, before she sailed, your mother came to Sador and bid him to make these for you. She gave him the design you see here on the box as well as those decorating that within."
"My mother..?" Arwen's eyes filled with tears and she turned to look at her father and grandmother. "Did you know of this?"
"I did." Elrond, eyes full of solemn pride, nodded. "It was one of Celebrían's last wishes before she sailed. He touched his daughter's cheek, and a smile, sad but full of love, touched his mouth. "See, on the back, her favorite flower."
"Niphredil," Galadriel said softly.
Elrond nodded. "And on the front, your favorite flower."
"Elanor." Arwen traced it with her finger.
"She wanted you to walk in beauty on this of all days." Elrond nodded and Amaraith opened the box. Inside were delicate slippers of blue leather, decorated with the flowers as well, and on the left sole, an imprint of Rivendell. On the right, the White City, with the king's standard flying high above it. "How? How could she know?"
"She never said." Elrond embraced his daughter as she turned to him. "Only to give them to you upon your wedding day."
Her father was gifted with foresight and so was her grandmother. Arwen laughed and lifted the shoes out of the box. "They are wondrous, and to have a part of my mother, today of all days…."
Galadriel smiled as she, too, received a thankful embrace. "Put them on and make sure they fit before we ride."
With a nod, wiping away tears, Arwen stood and with Amaraith, left to try out her beautiful shoes.
"You were right." Elrond blinked away his tears. "I did not like it then, what you told Celebrían and myself, for I had seen it as well."
A nod and Galadriel stood. "Sador has been a faithful ally through all of this. He never said a word."
"No, he would not." Elrond rose to his feet, heart heavy and yet as he looked out upon the radiant bride, he could not help but smile. He turned to his mother by law. "I hope he will sail with us. I should like to see Celebrían's smile when he tells her of how her gift made her daughter even more beautiful."
"That is a tale he will leave to you, Elrond." Galadriel knew the humble cobbler from days of Ages past, when her brother had walked Middle-earth. "Thanks is all he will accept."
Thanks and a place to watch as Arwen Undómiel, daughter of Elrond Halfelven married Aragorn son of Arathorn, Elessar and King of the Reunited Realms.
It was as magical as anyone could wish, and the love between the king and his bride was enough to bring many to tears as hope, a thing long forsaken in Gondor, rose in the hearts of all who watched.
As for the cobbler, he did indeed sail at the same time as the Master of Rivendell and watched in great joy as Elrond was reunited with Celebrían after long, lonely and weary years of being apart. As for his tale of the shoes for a bride… That was told much later, after the joy and sorrows of Middle-earth had been shared with those who had waited long for such tidings. There were tears, but as a wise wizard once said; not all tears are evil.
And later, when the last ships arrived bearing those who had lingered, wanting to be certain a beloved sister and daughter in heart was seen off on her journey beyond the circles, after the reunions of joy and sadness, when the heaviness and weariness of Middle-earth was released from their shoulders, the travelers spoke with love of their sister and her children. They told of a marriage of great love and a kingdom that was blessed beyond measure.
Then Glorfindel brought out drawings he had done of all the royal family and would not speak in sadness, for he knew Arwen was reunited with the one she had waited so long for, in the circles beyond time. He bore also letters for Elrond and Celebrían, and for many also who had dwelt in the Blessed Realm for long years.
Sador's surprise upon receiving one of the letters, in the Queen's own hand no less, was inexpressible. He shook his head in wonder then, as he read, in great joy, for the queen had passed her bridal shoes down to her eldest daughter, and the king had bequeathed his vambrances to his son. They were treasures of the family, valued not only for the exquisite crafting, but the beauty of thought that had gone into them.
So, the humble cobbler was blessed beyond measure, for small acts of kindness, often granted without thought of cost, always have the richest rewards.
