A few nights later Evelyn lay asleep in her bed underneath the thin layer of a cool sheet perfectly suited for keeping body warmth in and cool night’s air out. She was dreaming of horseback riding through the Riddermark. She knew it was the home of the horse lords because she had questioned Galadriel; plus, it looked like the Rohan in movies. In this particular dream her hands were buried in the foggy, milk white mane of one of the mearas *. They flew together over the rolling hills, enjoying the challenge of dodging the large clumps of thicker grass amongst the thinner, more friendly, plain grass. She threw back her head and laughed, voice floating eerily on the wind.
The dream shifted and Evelyn found herself wandering a wood. After walking along for a way, underneath the shadow of dark, gnarled branches, she saw a path up ahead leading deeper into the woods. Curious, and having no real control over the dream, she followed her feet down the barely visible trail which unexpectedly emptied into a large meadow with a pond at its center. There her feet stopped and her eyes lit on a still figure kneeling in the dirt by the tarn. Its head was bowed, its back toward her. The form stirred and the dark hair whipped round to allow the narrowed eyes a full vision of Evelyn. Heart beating rapidly, Evelyn was powerless to stop her own eyes from rising to meet the stare of the figure before her. Realizing it was Envinyanta, Galadriel’s grandchild, Evelyn gave a low gasp and averted her eyes nervously before they came again to solidly meet the gaze of the maiden opposite herself.
Envinyanta rose gracefully to stand at eye level with Evelyn. The only difference between the two girls was their hair length, and a minor discrepancy in their facial features. Envinyanta broke the spell that encased the two of them to silence when she tremblingly smoothed out the few wrinkles in her light blue tank top and pajama pants. Evelyn started as she recognized the clothing as her own.
“Êl síla nan lû e-govaded vín.” * Envinyanta’s voice chirped out solemly.
“Glassen a chened le.” * Evelyn said back, as she dipped her head in her acquaintance’s direction. Her fists held tightly to the fabric of the nightgown at her hips, a nightgown that belonged to Envinyanta, she realized uneasily.
Evelyn perched easily inside a curved mallorn * root which spewed out of the ground near the base of the main pathway leading from the white gates facing northwards out of the city. She rested her back against the tree’s feet as they conformed to the shape of her sitting position and watched with interest all the individuals entering the city. The Spring Festival was to begin soon, as soon as the golden leaves from the mellyrn began the pilgrimage from their lofty heights to the forest floor. Evelyn could hardly contain her excitement. She looked forward to the carefree days to come. Days chock full of picnics, sparring matches, music, and poetry recitations. She leaned against the roots and let her mind wander as she thought about all that happened during the past few weeks.
Evelyn’s heart warmed immensely getting to know her “brother” and her “grandparents”. Also, she and Envinyanta continued to be drawn together in their dreams every night. At first Envinyanta was reserved and haunted by the death of her parents but each time they met her grief was less palpable. Dear Lord, please be with Envinyanta, she needs Your care now. At first I saw only her hungry spirit and pain-filled eyes, but every night she gets better. Thank You. I thank You also for Galadriel, it would have been much harder to adjust here if not for her. Yet, she is my “grandmother” and it would be so nice to have someone here I could really talk to, a good friend. Like Callie. How I miss her! We would’ve had so much fun exploring Middle Earth together… God, I know You’re here and You have a plan for me but I’m beginning to wonder what that plan entails, and why I’m part of it. Forgive me, Jesus, for questioning You, but I miss my home and my friends. I miss my mum too. Oh Lord, please…I don’t know what else to pray…
“Child, where are you?” Galadriel’s voice interrupted her prayers, but Evelyn wasn’t sorry, she didn’t relish the direction they were headed anyway.
“I am sitting amongst the mellyrn roots and watching the Festival-goers arrive.” Galadriel thought it was amusing the way Evelyn made a habit of studying the elves around her, but Evelyn didn’t care. After all, how could she learn to learn to be elf if she didn’t practice elf?
“There is something I would tell you.” Galadriel continued, “Your cousin Arwen will be arriving soon.”
Evelyn felt a quick surge of anticipation mixed with anxiety. She had always wondered what she would do and say, given the chance to meet some of the actors from the Lord of the Rings, however to be introduced to the characters themselves, unblemished, in their true Tolkien-wrought forms was a thought implausible, yet it was an invitation she could not refuse.
Galadriel continued, “You are to introduce yourself as Ervinai. `Tis the name Celeborn and I have chosen through Illuvitar’s guidance. It means “unique one”. Illuvitar chose you and set you apart before the foundations of the world were laid. Never ignore His call, Ervinai, for to do so may bring great peril to yourself and those you love.”
“Thank you, milady.” Evelyn replied, taking her advice to heart. Ervinai, huh, Lord? So…now I have a name. It was more a declaration than an inquiry. Does this mean that I’m going to stay a while?
She knew Arwen the moment the queen entered the gates. Scrambling nervously from her concealed seat amongst the smooth roots, Ervinai tried to still the crazy leaping beat of her heart as she meandered onto the pathway. Holding up her skirts, and drawing one foot behind the other, she sank deeply into a curtsey, concentrating hard on not toppling over into a disgraceful heap.
Arwen, in turn, bobbed her head. She knew better than to attempt a curtsey on this rutted path. “Êl síla nan lû e-govaded vín.” * Arwen spoke, a smile playing around the corners of her mouth.
“Glassen an ngovaded le.” * Ervinai replied, tongue-tied and flustered. “I am your cousin, Ervinai.”
Arwen’s voice was sweet as a summer’s breeze as she replied, “Grandmother explained your situation to me while I was yet many leagues from this city. I have anticipated this reunion, such as it is, for many days. We shall not let anything in the world mar our camaraderie, for we shall be fast friends, I can tell.” Giving her cousin a quick peck on the cheek, Arwen reached for Ervinai’s hand and drew her toward the city’s center. The queen’s attendants followed the girlish couple toward the inner realm and didn’t bother to hold back their smiles as they heard their lady and her cousin laugh.
“So, tell me what you’ve been doing lately.” Arwen instructed as they unpacked her things together and set them about the talan she and her husband, King Elessar, were to share.
“Well, mostly I am outdoors, I help Grandmother once in a while, and I follow Runando around sometimes…I don’t know…I seem to be just waiting for something to happen. I’m just not sure what it is. I meet with Envinyanta in my dreams every night though.” She said smiling. Arwen’s eyes warmed. “Sometimes it seems like I’m just in the way. I can’t figure out why God…I mean, Illuvitar has placed me here…” She broke off and found her hands twisting agitatedly in her skirts.
Arwen stopped emptying her bags of belongings to turn a maternal eye upon Ervinai. “Beloved, do not fret, all will be revealed in due time. Besides,” she paused here and winked at Ervinai, “it isn’t good for your looks, you know.” Ervinai pretended mock pain and swatted playfully at Arwen who let out a delighted chuckle and ducked her friend’s attack.
Preparations for the Festival of Spring soon began in earnest; even the smallest ones had something to do. Arwen and Ervinai spent much time together, talking of Middle Earth, their personal struggles, as well as making hopeful plans for the future. Arwen told her that shortly before herself and her husband made ready to travel to Caras Galadhon they received word of many orcs patrolling near the White Mountains during the night. So Éomer was called upon to fulfill the Oath of Eorl and the two kings of men, King Éomer and King Elessar, rode together once again. “For,” Arwen explained to Ervinai, “`wherever King Elessar went with war King Éomer went with him, and beyond the Sea of Rhûn and on the far fields of the South the thunder of the cavalry of the Mark was heard, and the White Horse upon Green flew in many winds. For though Sauron had passed, the hatreds and evils that he bred had not died, and the King of the West had many enemies to subdue before the White Tree could grow in peace’.” *
It came to pass that the scouts of King Éomer and King Elessar arrived in Lórien with news of a quick and decisive defeat of the orcs in a single battle, and the announcement that the two kings were on their way to the Elven city.
The day of the festival finally arrived. Ervinai had been busy the previous day and so was not present when the western kings finally reached their destination, though that fact did nothing to prevent her from hearing the ruckus they made. Nor had she seen Arwen since. So, when the sun rose, cool and early on the first morning of the festival Ervinai wasted no time in throwing off the confining bedcovers and leaping hastily out of bed, anxious for the day to begin. Before she got dressed she dropped to her knees beside the bed, head bowing reverently, and arms resting on the bed’s edge. Then she rushed out to her balcony, embracing the chilly air that rose the flesh up and down her body. She could almost touch the excitement in the atmosphere, it was nearly as tangible to her as the rays of sunlight on her face which shone through the emptying boughs above her.
* mearas- noble horses that lived as long as man, and had extraordinary strength and intelligence. Throughout their history, they would only allow themselves to be ridden by the Lord of the Mark or his sons. This long tradition was broken by Gandalf, who managed to train the greatest of the Mearas, Shadowfax.
* Êl síla nan lû e-govaded vín- A star shines on the occasion of our meeting
* Glassen a chened le- It is my joy to see you
* mallorn- a famed golden-leaved tree of Lórien, it holds its leaves until spring; plural form is: mellyrn
* Êl síla nan lû e-govaded vín- A star shines on the occasion of our meeting
* Glassen an ngovaded le- It is my joy to meet you
* Return of the King, Appendix A , The Kings of the Mark, Third Line, Éomer Éadig
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