Seeds of the White Tree

Chapter 49 - Your Sweet and Weary Head

When the Queen's party reached the Vale of the Moon, a scene of both joy and sorrow awaited them. Minas Ithil, though ravaged by siege and smoke, still stood. The flag of Gondor flew high atop The Tower of the Moon, the White Tree of Gondor rippling in a strong summer wind which carried the faintest scent of smoke. Pockets of fluffy white clouds drifted across a robin's-egg blue sky, casting ever-shifting rays of sunlight across mountains' towering faces. That same wind which filled the flags of Minas Ithil tossed the horses' manes and teased at the long tresses of Arwen and her daughters as they approached.

Before approaching the gate and the makeshift bridge at the far end of the valley, they could not miss passing Gïdjls where he lay. A small group of boys with their shortbows and arrows stood guard, keeping the carrion birds at bay. They were all quick to bow when Túrien turned her horse aside from the group and approached. Goldwine did not shy, not even in the face of such enormous death. Túrien drew astride with Gïdjls head, and leaning over from the saddle laid a hand between the Mûmak's clouded eyes.

"Sleep well, sweet one. You have earned it."

Looking to Gïdjls's young guardians, Túrien reached into her purse and offered out handfuls of silver coins. If the children of Minas Ithil had been growing at all restless in their vigil, the grateful nod of Gondor's second princess and the handsome reward more than restored their enthusiasm. They waved and cried out in welcome to the rest of the party as they passed, and several went running ahead toward the city. Long before the children came shouting of the queen's arrival, the horns of Gondor sounded from both the royal party upon the road and The Tower of the Moon above; two clear, ringing calls in grateful greeting of one another.

OoOoO

Eldarion and Elboron were waiting to greet Arwen and the others when they reached the Citadel of Night. The mangled remains of the gate were long gone, thanks to Ohtar and his men, and so the horses rode freely into the courtyard beneath the tower. Everywhere they had gone through Minas Ithil, soldiers and citizens alike had looked up from their work of cleaning and rebuilding to greet the queen's party with heartfelt smiles. It was the same in the citadel, made all the sweeter by the smiles on both Elboron and Eldarion's faces. Reaching up, Eldarion took his mother's hand and helped her down from the saddle. Arwen all but flew to enfold her son in the embrace she wished she could have given him after the events in The Black House.

"Ion-nin..." Arwen breathed into the crook of Eldarion's neck. Closing her eyes, she gave him a squeeze and felt her heart leap with relief when he returned it. "There is so much I would ask you."

"And I will answer everything, when we have the time, Naneth." Unfolding Arwen from his embrace, Eldarion sent sideways glances at both Elboron and Túrien. "In this moment though, there are others who should have your attention first." Arwen followed Eldarion's gaze to where Túrien kept glancing anxiously up toward the Tower of the Moon - even as Galieth helped to resettle a dozing Myriam on her back - and nodded. Eldarion took his mother's hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm though, and for the present Arwen was reassured that all was well for him.

Elfwine meanwhile was quick to dismount and pull Elboron into a fierce hug. Gripping the taller man by the nape of the neck, Elfwine smiled despite the redness of exhaustion rimming his eyes.

"Glad was I to hear that you and Eruthiawen both made it through the siege of Minas Ithil alive, cousin. Even gladder still was I when I heard of your new arrival! Come now, where is Barahir?"

A grin of pure pride lit up Elboron's face beneath his unkept golden mustache and stubbly cheeks. The dark smudges under his eyes were nearly a match for Elfwine's, but Elboron's sleeplessness seemed less the product of toil than the happy exhaustion of a new father.