Vaniel, My Heart

Vaniel, My Heart
Chapter 36: Chapter 36 - What Magic This?
by Sienna
Disclaimer: All familiar characters are owned by JRR Tolkien and are used without permission. No monies are being made from this work.

Vaniel, My Heart
by Sienna Dawn

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Chapter 36 - What Magic This?

Imladris - Five Thousand Years Later

Vaniel dozed near the open window, the gentle summer breeze lulling her senses. The delicate scent of gardenia, sweet briar and elanor filled the early evening air, and the rhythmic flow of the waterfalls beyond Imladris brought a delightful moisture to the gentle wind.

Vaniel came often to her little indoor garden, once a favorite spot of Elrond's. Here she would sit and savor the woods, the breezes and animals, gather in the aromas of the flowers and listen to the gay calls of the birds, and at night watch the stars and be enchanted by the silver glow that moonlight cast upon the world below. Vaniel had added several low recliners in the chamber and often came here to rest and think, revelling in the peace and serenity of the wide hall.

Presently, she slept upon one of the recliners she favored and did not awaken when her eldest soon, Myrddin, entered the chamber.

Tall, like his father, Myrddin had inheritted Vaniel's coloring, for dark was his hair and golden were his eyes. Yet his proud and regal bearing marked him beyond question as Haldir's progeny.

Coming to stand beside his mother, Myrddin smiled and thought back to his own childhood. He lifted his wise golden eyes to the garden before him. He recalled his happy life in Imladris, safe and secure from the world, the magic of the elves maintaining the protective mists the kept it apart from prying mortal eyes. He thought back to the enchanted Ford of Bruinen, where his grandmother's voice still called from the depths of the waterfall, what was left of the essence of Eryniel, the elf who raised Vaniel. On warm summer nights was Eryniel's spirit especially strong and Myrddin had often wondered if there was a connection between that and Summer Solstice. His fine brows knit in thought as he allowed his vast intellect to ponder on the possibility.

Myrrdin looked at his mother's sleeping form. Yes, he had seen it, he was certain of that now. She would sail soon. As would his father. They would take the Straight Road, as he would not. Could not, he corrected himself and smiled gently and sadly at the sleeping Vaniel. How much would he give to not know what he already knew? Taking a deep breath, he gently caressed his mother's forehead.

Myrddin did not wish to wake her, but knew he must. Bending closer to Vaniel, his whispered words were enough to waken her and her open eyes began to loose the haze of sleep. Myrddin waited and when he saw his mother's eyes fully focus on his face, he allowed his sad countenance to evolve into a genuine smile of affection.

Vaniel smiled and held out a hand to her tall and slender son. "Myrddin! What a happy way to end a nap." Her voice was warm, affectionate.

Myrddin took Vaniel's hand and helped her to sit up. "Glad is my heart, as well, Mother." Myrddin's deep baritone held a true note of love.

"I did not know you traveled for Imladris this soon." Her golden eyes studied her son's face as she gracefully stood. She was over five thousand years old and still the winter's touch of grey had stayed its hand and Vaniel's face was as youthful as any mortal maiden of five and twenty. Myrddin gazed into his mother's eyes. It was the eyes, he noted, that marked the true age of an elf, and his mother's eyes held a vast light of love, knowledge and wisdom. He thought of his father....Haldir was now almost ten thousand years old and within his eyes there was such knowledge as Myrddin hoped one day would be his too.

"Nay," replied Myrddin, sitting down on a chair opposite the recliner where Vaniel still sat. "Nor did I expect to come so soon. Father is not in the city?" He knew the answer already, but he also knew he was expected to hold a normal conversation. It was difficult, he reflected, to have a conversation about things he already knew were going to happen. Still, he knew this skill of his disturbed his parents somewhat and so he tried to make polite, if not stilted, conversation. He sighed, with mortals it was even worse.

Vaniel saw the thought fly across her son's face and smiled. "This time you are not coming back, are you?" Her eyes grew sad when Myrddin's golden eyes met hers. She saw the confirmation there. "Will you at least wait for your Ada to return?" Her voice was a pained whisper.

Myrddin nodded, "Aye, Mother, that I will." And he turned his gaze toward the garden, his thoughts lost in the horizon.

Haldir had returned to Imladris by the time Earendil was high in the heavens. His surprise and quiet contentment at unexpectedly seeing his son was yet another painful stab in Myrddin's heart. Myrddin knew that this was to be the last time he would set eyes upon his family, and that never again would he converse with his Father, a wise and strong elf who was now credited with nearly single-handedly saving Imladris.

Presently, father and son strolled within the walled woods of Imladris, Myrddin pausing every so often to caress a flower or listen to a tree's question.

All the while Haldir had been studying his son in silence, walking a few steps behind Myrddin, waiting.

The soft coo of a nightingale broke their silence and Haldir closed the distance and put his hand on Myrddin's shoulder.

"Time is passing swiftly, Father." Myrddin suddenly said, his voice sounding oddly ancient.

Haldir frowned. "Time is but a perception, my son. Surely, you know this." Haldir turned briefly and saw Myrddin was not watching him.

Stopping before a great rowan, Myrddin placed a hand against the sturdy trunk. "They know." He said the quiet words, looking up at the branches of the tree before lowering his golden gaze to his father's face. It was disconcerting to Myrddin, who spent his life with Men and watched them age and grow old, to see the mark of youth and beauty on his own father's face. He would age eventually, but his father would not.

"They know time is changing." Myrddin repeated.

Haldir frowned. What manner of talk was this? "Then you have chosen?" His sapphire eyes looked upon his son with compassion. As half elven he too, like Vaniel, faced the decision to stay or take the Straight Road.

Myrddin's face clouded over and he nodded, "I have chosen."

Haldir nodded slowly and turned his face away, not wishing Myrddin to see the pain there. But Myrddin, like his father, could read the hearts of elves and men and knew his father suffered. Myrddin watched Haldir in silence and saw the elf silently struggle to control his emotions. Finally, a calm and impassive Haldir turned to him.

"Have you told your Mother?" Was all Haldir asked.

Myrddin shook his head, "Nay, but she knows."

Haldir looked at Myrddin now and agreed. In silence they turned as one and returned to their rooms, each lost in their own thoughts.

Myrddin stayed a few more weeks, visiting the entirety of Imladris, from border to border, silently bidding the land, the water, the trees and the animals goodbye for a while for he knew much time would pass before he dared venture back. Much had yet to come before Imladris would grant him entry, if ever it would again.

He memorized each tree, each path and river, the waterfalls and the mountain passes, the forests and gardens, burning them into his memory forever.

But soon his time to depart came and with a heavy heart did Myrddin bid farewell to his mother and father, as they escorted him to the eastern borders of Imladris until they would cross no further.

Here did Myrddin embrace his mother, wiping the tears that fell from her eyes, listening to the wail of Eryniel's voice as it keened in the wind, knowing her beloved grandson would ne'er return to the fair lands of Imladris.

Vaniel wept openly, her heart breaking while Myrddin held her, feeling her body shake with sobs. "Mother, I go forth to give the world of men the love of the elves; their magic and knowledge. Without this they will fall into a pit of darkness. The enemies of the elves are not yet gone from the world, this you know." He held her at arm's length and looked into her eyes.

Vaniel smiled through her tears, "I am not Galadriel, son. I cannot simply watch my first born depart from my life forever and bury the pain deeply. I love you, my son. Never forget who you are, where you come from and if ever there be a time you need the help of the elves, send this," Vaniel handed Myrddin a great golden ring and upon it sat a brilliant gem, whose light shone as if lit from within by the flame of a thousand fires. " 'Tis no magic ring, but this is our crest. All in Imladris will know who sends it and help shall come." Her eyes held Myrddin's.

Myrddin smiled and embraced Vaniel one final time and then turned to Haldir, who stood quietly by, his own sadness rooted deep in his heart.

Father and son contemplated each other for a moment.

Myrddin spoke first, "You will sail soon." It was not a question for he already had foreseen it.

Haldir nodded, "Namarie, my son. Fare thee well. Remember your Mother's words for never shall Imladris fade. This I know now."

Myrddin smiled. Yes, he knew that too. Always would Imladris stand. He saw that Haldir brought forth the ancient Noldorin sword which had been his greatest treasure. No such weapons, forged by the ancient Noldorin smiths, were found anywhere in the world. The sword shimmered and gleamed with a bright light. It was made of the finest mithril and bonded with gold. Intricate lettering in Quenya proclaimed its ancient heritage. Dark rubies, sapphires and emeralds were encrusted in its handle. It was a magnificent sword, made for the hand of not only a mighty warrior, but a king or queen.

Holding the sword toward Myrddin, Haldir said, "Take it. Long have I carried this sword, treasured it when I was young, and it well served me in many battles. It has grown in power and honor. The weapon of an elegant and proud warrior. It is yours." Haldir offered it and his eyes locked with Myrddin's.

Speechless, Myrddin took the sword. This he had not foreseen. He studied the sword. It felt warm in his hands. He frowned, "'Tis Noldorin-made." He said absently, his long fingers tracing the Quenya words inscribed on the blade of the weapon which he read silently.

"Caliburnus....I serve." Myrrdin translated the word under his breath.

Looking at Haldir with questioning eyes, Myrddin said, "Caliburnus?" He turned the sword over in his hand. Just what was this object, he thought, detecting a slight tremor of an intelligence coming from the weapon.

"Who is the maker of this sword, Father?" Myrrdin weighed the blade carefully in his hand, studying it with a practiced eye. This was no weapon he had ever seen before.

Haldir looked at the sword in Myrddin's hand. "I know not." He reached for the sword and Myrrdin allowed his father to take it. Haldir held it at arm's length, turning the blade slowly.

"'Tis an ancient sword, Myrddin." Haldir gave the sword back to Myrrdin. He watched his son run his slender hand over the smooth blade. "'Twas brought forth from Valinor and given to me by Celeborn. All that is known of the sword is that it was forged in Valinor, some say by Aule the Vala, and carried forth to Middle Earth. Its power and magic still hearkens to that ancient time. I know no more of it, other than it served me well, as its inscription says." Haldir looked down at the sword in Myrrdin's hand and then at his son's face.

Myrddin's appreciation of the sword grew. So it was carried to Middle Earth from the Blessed Realm....he pondered upon this. Yes, he had not foreseen it. He decided he would have to study this mighty weapon. Placing the sword in its scabbard, he slung it upon the waiting steed.

"This is indeed a princely gift, Father, one I cannot repay but vow it shall serve well." Myrddin grasped his father's shoulder and nodded a silent thanks, looking deeply into Haldir's face and seeing reassurance there. Myrddin knew that Haldir understood, as Vaniel did not, that his destiny did not lie in Valinor but elsewhere. Squeezing his father's shoulder in a silent farewell, Myrddin turned toward the steed.

Reaching for his mount, Myrddin gracefully leaped upon it and took the reins from his father's hand. He turned to his mother one more time and saw Vaniel had ceased weeping.

Giving his father one final glance, he heard Vaniel's voice, "What do Men call you, my son?"

Myrddin grinned and answered, "Men cannot wrap their tongues 'round my name. They have come to call me Merlin."

Haldir grinned and came to his wife's side, placing a protective arm around her shoulders. "Then peace be yours, Merlin of Imladris."

Haldir removed his arm from Vaniel shoulder's, bowed and touched his heart and extended his arm, "May the blessings of elves and the Valar go with you."

Myrddin returned the gesture.

But Haldir had one final word, and his sapphire eyes held his son's face for the last time, "Remember who you are." Haldir's face was solemn, bidding a final and silent goodbye to his first born son, understanding at last the hearbreak of losing a child. So that Myrddin could not read his pain, Haldir cleared his mind and smiled gently at Myrddin.

Myrddin nodded and looked at the great ring on his hand. He pulled the steed's reins and slowly rode away, the steed picking up more speed until not even the elven eyes of his parents were able to see his form.

Key:

Namarie = Farewell

Caliburnus = Middle Latin for "Excalibur"

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