The fire crackled loudly in the peaceful night. From what Arrvelas could tell, everyone else had gone off to rest for the night. There was no more chatter, no more sounds of footsteps. Only the fire.
The cup of tea in his hand had long since cooled, and he sat yet, still in the chair he had first occupied that evening. His companion, Alphaear had long since left his side, after much protest from her. But he had promised he would be well and could find his way to his room on his own. But now, he was regretting the fact that he would have to feel his way to a room that may or may not be his.
With a sigh of annoyance, he takes up the flute that he had set on the table earlier that evening and fiddles with it. For several minutes, his fingers mimic the playing of a song upon the instrument. His fingers still for a moment as he thinks.
“If I played quietly, would anyone wake up?” He whispers to himself.
Not that he actually cared about the consequences of his actions. So without further ado, he picked up the ancient flute and placed it in front of his lips. Eventually, a quiet, melancholy tune could be heard in the main hall, if any were listening. A lullaby, it might sound akin to. Arrvelas would play for several long minutes, fingers moving nimbly over the instrument. But the melancholy tune would stop abruptly when the sound of soft footsteps intruded upon Arrvelas’ peace. The steps are unfamiliar to him. They are not heavy and loud like Master Dalbran’s, or slow and cautious like Alphaear’s when she approaches him.
“Who goes there?” He calls out in broken Westron, back still facing away from the hallway that the newcomer had entered from.
“Forgive me...Hir? I did not know anyone else was awake at this hour. I just heard the music and thought….” The other trails off.
That voice…. It was so familiar, yet strange to him at the same time. ‘It can not be.’ Arrvelas thinks. ‘Surely they were all lying and this is all a dream.’
“It is alright. I did not think I would wake anyone with my playing.” He turns his body to face the one who had entered, waiting with bated breath.
“You did not….” A shocked gasp comes from the other. “You are alive?” And there it was. It really was him. The confusion is clear in his voice and Arrvelas smirks, reverting back to his usual attitude.
“Oh don’t sound so disappointed. I might start to think you don’t like me.”
“Arrvelas…” Ithilwe whispers.
“Baby cousin.” He responds, the smirk still firmly in place. A defense mechanism through and through.
“You have been here for several days and you have not come to me.” Ithilwe does not sound upset about this, only confused.
“And neither did you. Why not?” Perhaps he is being harsh and cold, but he can’t react as he wants. Not yet.
“I could not believe it. I thought they were lying to me…” Ithilwe’s voice lowers and he can barely be heard. If not for Arrvelas’ heightened sense of hearing, he might not have heard it at all.
“And I thought it was a dream...or some sick joke. I would not put it past some of the elves I have met in Imladris.” His stern facade begins to crack. “How do I know this is not some dream or figment of my imagination?”
“No one here is that cruel, cousin. I am here. This is no dream.” The sound of Ithilwe’s footsteps grow louder as they approach. The steps are slow and methodical, nothing like he remembered.
Ithilwe seems to stop right in front of Arrvelas’ chair. Arrvelas sets the flute down on the table and raises his head from where it had been facing his knees. All is quiet as one hand raises to make contact with an arm, covered in soft silk. The older one snorts. ‘Of course.’ He thinks as he reaches further up, a hand coming to rest on Ithilwe’s face. Several long moments pass as his fingers explore the lines and features on the shorter elf's head.
After the long quiet moment, Arrvelas abruptly stands up and drags the younger elf into a tight embrace.
"Little Moon..." He says with a shuddering breath, holding his younger cousin firmly.
"Arrvelas...." Ithilwe wraps his own arms around his cousin.
"I found you."
"You kept your word."
Neither speak for a long time, nor do they step back from the hug. Ithilwe is the first to pull back, after what seems like hours. His hand comes up to tap at the black cloth covering his cousin's eyes.
"Why do you wear this? What happened to you?" Ithilwe asks cautiously, though he fears he already knows the answer.
"Oh that silly thing? That is my mark of pride!"
"Mark of pride? What do you mean?"
"I wear that so when someone asks what happened, they will know what I sacrificed to save my family." Instead of annoyed or bitter as one would normally expect from the dark haired elf, his tone is filled with pride and happiness.
"Your eyes... you can not see."
"No, I can not."
"You can not see me...."
"See you? No. But that is a good thing. Surely you are just as ugly as you were when you were younger." And the teasing begins once again.
"Arrvelas, I am being serious!" He can hear the pout in Ithilwe's voice and he can just imagine the hands sitting on his hips in annoyance.
"I know...I know. It is not so bad, Little Moon."
"You are blind, Arrvelas! How is that not bad?" He can hear his younger cousin pull out the chair next to him and sit down.
"Well for one, the annoying drunkards in the Hall of Fire tend to steer clear of me. Apparently I am intimidating. Imagine that!"
Ithilwe does not seem to find his statement as funny as he does, because no laughter comes from the other. All is quiet again, neither quite knowing how to react to the other.
"How?" Ithilwe speaks up eventually.
"Hmm?"
"Your eyes. You said you lost your eyes as a sacrifice."
"Surely you remember, Little Moon. Not moments after I shoved you through that window, they cut me down. And must have believed me dead for the amount of blood that flowed down my face. I have not been able to open my eyes since then."
"You sacrificed much for me, Arrvelas." Ithilwe whispers guiltily.
"And I regret none of it, baby cousin. I would do it all again." He says proudly, a genuine smile upon his lips.
Ithilwe reaches his left hand over to take Arvellas'. "How did you survive? Where did you go?"
"I am stronger than I look, Little Moon. I was capable enough, even without my sight. I found my way to Lindon and eventually Eregion. Since then I have been traveling. I have looked for you everywhere, dear cousin. But everytime I found a lead, either you were one step ahead of me or it wasn't you at all."
"But you have found me now." It is then that Arvellas' finally hears the tears in Ithilwe's voice.
"I have found you. And I am glad." Arrvelas squeezes Ithilwe's hand in his and raises an eyebrow. "You are married?"
Ithilwe chuckles wetly, using his free hand to wipe away any tears.
"Maybe?" When he speaks, Ithilwe sounds almost confused.
"Maybe? Baby cousin you are either married or not married. So let me ask again. Are you married?"
"Yes?"
"You still do not sound so confident about your answer."
"I am... But we have not had a public ceremony yet."
"You better invite me or I will dip your silver hair in tree sap!"
"Of course I will invite you! I couldn't do it without you, Arrvelas."
"Good." Arrvelas replies curtly, though a hint of a smile could be seen on his lips. "I missed you, Little Moon. I never stopped looking for you."
"I missed you too, Arrvelas."
Quietness falls upon them once more and they st.....
"You are still a baby. And short."
"And you are still annoying!"
The two spoke for many hours, about everything that happened in the past two ages. It would not be until dawn when they finally collapsed for sleep in the same chairs. Whomever it was that found them would find Ithilwe drooling, head resting on his folded arms. And Arrvelas would be snoring, head hanging off the armrest. His hand resting on Ithilwe's shoulder.
