In the Garden

Title: In the Garden, Chapter 16
Author: Sorsha
Fandom/Pairing: Elrond/OFC, others implied
Rating: PG-13, but rating will increase in future chapters
Warning: AU (Story set several hundred years after ROTK in Aman); Het.
Feedback: Constructive feedback appreciated.
Archive: AFF; FF
Acknowledgements: Thanks to Lady Victoria for betaing this fic.
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to Prof. Tolkien. A quick check of my bank account should prove I’m not making anything off of writing my stories. Sigh!
Summary: Life in the Blessed Land has not been so blessed for Elrond. Can the happiness that has long eluded him be found in the words of a red-bound journal, the help of his scheming friends, and the granting of a wish that none thought possible?

Chapter 17 --- And Now We Come to It

Arriving for breakfast, Elrond and his sons were relieved to see the tension and anguish that had marked the faces of their family and friends had been eased by the comfort of the preceding night. Earlier, they had been informed that the two elves under the Lady’s care were still asleep, having many more dreams they must ‘watch’ before their healing could begin. For now, there was little that anyone could do for them.

The three peredhil had spent the remaining hours before dawn sharing their dreams. They had been surprised by how often laughter had erupted between them… surprised, yet comforted by the release laughter brought. Since several of their individual memories had involved one or both of the other two, they quickly found the retelling had the secondary benefit of giving the others a chance to enjoy the memory as well.

“From the laughter coming from your talan, I had begun to wonder if I would be forced to explain some mischief to our hosts as I have often had to do in years past,” Lindir teased. “And do no bother giving me that innocent look, Elrond. I have known you since you were a newborn babe and you are just as likely to start something as your sons. The only thing that kept me from checking was… Glorfindel was with me, so I assumed all was not lost.”

“Now, Lindir I am shocked by your attempts to toss me into the same category as those three rabble rousers. I am a mild-mannered elf that… why is everyone laughing?” Glorfindel demanded, a twinkle in his eyes betraying his amusement.

“Ada and Lindir have told us stories of your exploits, Glory… as have Adar’ra and Ereinion. We are in awe of your daring, my lord,” Elladan countered, giving the smirking elf an exaggerated bow.

“Have they? Have they told you stories of theirs? Your Adar’s alone could take weeks… months to recount!” the rehoused warrior observed, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “And, I am sure your distant grandfather Elwë has many tales to offer dealing with his nephew… not to mention the ones the rest of us know. Come to think of it… I wonder if he would welcome me to his gardens for a little storytelling?”

“Humm, your mention of storytelling has put me in mind of a conversation I had with Turgon…” Celeborn began.

“I would not count anything the former king might say… my cousin was ever busy and any stories he has are secondhand and distorted!” Glorfindel inserted, a bright blush stealing up his face.

Stunned speechless by the unprecedented sight, the party stared in wonder at the squirming elf lord before Elrond broke the quiet by observing, “I must talk to Adar’ra… anything that makes Glorfindel blush like that is a story I must know! Or, perhaps you would join me for a walk by the lake, Celeborn?”

Smirking, the elf lord merely inclined his head as he waited for the ensuing mirth to die down. “Perhaps that can be arranged.”

A soft voice drifted across the glade. “Lindir… am I to discover that the Valar sent back an elf that might have been a less than stellar influence on my son’s innocent spirit?”

Rising to escort Elwing to a seat at the table that had been prepared for them, the white-haired elf confided… in a voice deliberately pitched to be heard by all, “I must sadly confirm this, my lady. If it makes you feel any better, I sincerely believe your son has been a far worse influence on him most of the time… though I may revise that opinion after joining him for his walk with Lord Celeborn.”

The ‘innocent spirit’ laughed with true pleasure as he rose to embrace his mother. Sighing dramatically, Elwing traded a look with Galadriel before asking, “Should I tell him the truth about his Ada? My husband has often joked that the real reason the Valar made him a star upon his arrival in Aman was so they could keep an eye on him! I think there is real merit to this theory.”

-----

The group of elves had spent much of the day trading stories resurrected by their dreams. As was the case with the three peredhil, laughter had flowed as freely as tears as the stories had been recounted. Elwing had spent the day listening… drinking in the years she had been denied with her kin. Elrond and his sons had sprawled out near her feet like playful elflings, happy to have her near.

As the day wore on, Elrond sat back and leaned against his mother’s knees, unable to resist her offer to braid his hair as he had left it unbound that morning. “You would do this every morning for both Elros and me. If the weather was warm and clear, we would sit in the garden and let you try to make us tidy… at least for a few minutes, anyway.”

Smiling at the memory, Elwing bent to press a quick kiss to the crown of her son’s head. “I remember that well, ion. Elros seldom made it very far from me before he had found yet another means of staining his tunic and leggings or had leaves sticking out of his hair. You soon had done likewise. It seemed we had half the garden in the bottom of the tub every night when we gave you your bath before bed!” (son)

“Elros never outgrew that tendency, even as a grown man. I think it irritated his advisors that their king was always needing to be made presentable before he greeted guests or conducted a meeting,” Elrond remembered, a fond smile on his lips. “His wife found it all very endearing, for she loved him passionately… and he her.”

“Tell me about her… your brother, ion. Tell me how they met.” (son)

Realizing the rest of their company had fallen silent wanting to hear his answer, Elrond let his mind drift back over the millennia to the end of the First Age, as he gave himself a moment to compose his thoughts. “Ránawen was uncommonly beautiful… long blue-black hair and large grey eyes, and she had the fuller, more rounded form of a human. She was the daughter of one of the leaders of the Edain that fought with the Host against Morgoth in the War of Wraith. She had been born in the camp and continued to travel with her father after her mother died during a surprise attack. She was his right-hand, though he had forbidden her to join the fighting. She was gentle, yet fierce… very loving and compassionate, but one did not want to make her your enemy. She matched my twin in every way.”

“As for how they met… as you know, we were called to be part of the Host* because it had been sent in response to yours and Ada’s plea. We were put amongst the men, for those of Valinor were unsure of how to deal with two such as us. In particular, those of the forces of Ingwë were repelled by our mixed blood.” The lingering bitterness he had felt at their condescension was still audible in his voice.

“The War had been raging for some years when we arrived, having but recently come of age. The camp where we were sent was under the command of Ránawen’ father, an Edain called Nólindo.” A sad look overtook his features as he recalled those days. “We were, if I am being honest, thoroughly lost. We had finally found a family in the court of our foster father and at last felt secure, when the patrol sent by Lord Eönwë arrived to bring us before Manwë’ Herald. In but a matter of weeks, we went from our home to the Herald’s camp to our assigned duty in Nólindo’ encampment. We had no idea what we were expected to do despite the training we had received to make us warriors… only that we had been called to the service of the Valar.”

“Ránawen saw this and made it her mission to make us feel a part of their force… their people. Elros quickly found his place and seemed to grow into his own skin, emerging as a natural leader and skilled warrior. That was the first time it occurred to me that my twin was more attuned to our Edain heritage than that of the Eldar.” A rueful smile twisted his lips as he continued. “Let us just say… it took me a little longer.”

“By the time we arrived, the war had been going on for thirty-one years. We thus spent the last eleven of the campaign with their encampment. It seemed like forever… and no time at all before the Great Battle was upon us. The images of those days are still vivid in my mind… seared into my heart and spirit.” Staring off into the distant past, memories of scenes too horrible to describe played out again in his memories. “The noise was deafening… the shrieks of the beasts of Morgoth and moans of the dying on the battlefield still haunt me.”

Feeling his mother’s hand settle on his shoulder, he pulled himself back to the present with obvious effort. “I remember the first sighting we had of the balrogs and later of the winged dragons. My blood still feels the chill their presence inspired in us all. I can hear the horn of Oromë sound again, as he sat astride Nahar and led his force of Maiar warriors against the fallen of their kind. Finally, the sight we had lived so long to see came. Tulkas was a wondrous and terrible vision, as he and Eönwë cornered Morgoth and drove him into the Void.”

Elrond’s voice had become low and smoky dark, as his memories poured forth. “But chiefly do I remember the sight of my father’s approach, Vingilot shining with the splendor of the very heavens themselves. Elros and I stood in awe as we watched him do battle with Ancalagon, the mightiest of the dragons. We watched him slay the beast and cast his body back to the earth, shattering Thangorodrim. The world changed that day… forever.”

“In the ciaos that followed, Elros and I became separated. I discovered later that he had gone back to our base camp thinking I was following him. Upon his arrival, he found Ránawen surrounded by a small band of Yrck… a motley few that had survived the main battle and mistakenly believed a lone female would be easy prey to their anger and evil desires. She had killed three already when Elros arrived, and together they finished the rest.” Shaking his head, Elrond saw in his mind’s eye the pair searching the ruin of the battlefield for him and her father. Their joy at his safety had been tempered by the loss of her father.

‘They were never apart again. When Eönwë called us to attend him with the decree of the Valar, I could not bring myself to meet Elros’ eyes. We both knew what our answers would be as soon as the choice was given us. It… grieved us both that our natures were such that there was no other choice for us to make, but to part. My time with the Edain had proven I was too elven to be human, and Elros to human to be elven.” A tear slipped down his cheek as he added, “Besides, he had found his other half in Ránawen and his heart called him thus.”

Looking at his sons, he confessed, “As great as my fear was that you might chose to be counted among the Secondborn, it worried me more that you might share the fate of Elros and me… forever separated. I would not have wished that pain on either of you, even to see you with me in Aman.”

“Was… was he happy in his choice?”

Turning to face his mother, Elrond took her hands and gave them a gentle squeeze. “Aye, he was. He was made for the world of men and he did great things. He and Ránawen were deeply in love to the end of their days. They were blessed with four children and many grandchildren. When he lost her, I could clearly see life had lost its savor. My spirit was with him at his passing and… he was at peace, ready to rejoin his beloved. He had no doubts or fears… just his faith that Eru would see him home. I felt his love for us as he slipped from this world.”

Pulling her weeping form into his arms, he whispered, “Worry not that he lived in regret, for in truth he lived in love and joy. Like my Arwen, he made his choice as he was called and was happy in it to the end.”

“We will find them again… at the end of days when Eru remakes the world.” For the first time, Elrond felt the truth of this in his heart, even as his own tears fell and mingled with those of his mother. With this knowledge, an ancient pain fell away from his heart.

-----

Twilight had begun to spread shadows around them, when word came that their family and friends had been sighted entering the outer limits of the Lorien. Knowing they would be uneasy not knowing the reasons they had been summoned, Elrond, the twins, Glorfindel, and Lindir hurried out to greet them. They hoped to assure them that their call was a good and joyous thing… an offer of healing from the Lady Estë and her husband.

Seeing the riders coming toward them, Elrond felt his heart lurch as he found Meril riding near the middle of the party. He had known she would be among those summoned, given her prior relationship with Haldir, but the sight of her… her white-gold hair shining about her face as it had in his dream, still robbed him of breath. A brilliant smile lit his face as he hurried forward.

As he drew near, the thought of her body held close to his, unleashing a strong yearning in his heart. He wanted… needed to hear her soft confession of love once again, this time for real. Only millennia of experience in exerting his self-control stayed his hands from pulling her from her horse into his arms.

The blush that stained her cheeks a bright pink intrigued his senses. It took several minutes of subtle effort to finally capture her averted gaze. His heart began to slam against his ribs as he saw the echo of his dream in her eyes. Oblivious to the amused grins they were attracting, the pair lost themselves in each others eyes, as silent questions were asked and answered.

Breathless, Meril wrenched her eyes from the tight hold of the elf she loved. Struggling to dismount with some semblance of grace, she was relieved when her uncle came to her aid. In a low voice heard only by Meril, Gildor whispered, “What did I tell you, pen vuil? Do not fear that you have lost your heart, for he clearly has given you his own in return.” (dear one)

Nervous, yet hopeful eyes lifted to meet her uncle’s. “But, he is still not free.”

“I know, sweet one. Remember, I have promised to pray for that and keep you from the need. Relax. We have come to the Gardens of Healing. I have a very good feeling that a bright future will soon dawn for you and my dear friend,” he murmured. Pressing a quick kiss to her brow, he turned her to face his friend.

“Elrond! Tis good to see you, meldir. Do you know why we have been called to attend the Valar of Lorien?” Gildor asked, reaching over to clasp the peredhel by the shoulder, hoping to jar his friend back to his surroundings. (friend)

Realizing he had been caught staring into Meril’s eyes, lost to all but her, Elrond felt a blush to match hers explode over his face. Whipping his eyes up to meet her uncle’s, he struggled for words to excuse his behavior. The warm and approving smile that greeted his gaze took him by surprise.

Giving his head a rueful shake, Gildor leaned over to whisper in Elrond’s ear. “Relax, my friend. Neither of you have done anything wrong. I know you both too well to worry that you will. I have long prayed for your freedom and that you might meet someone that would deserve you. Since the second part of my prayers has been so agreeably answered, I can now concentrate on the first part in hopes such restraint will not long be necessary.”

Stunned and embarrassed, Elrond was unsure of how to proceed. Vaguely remembering the question he had been asked, he took refuge in providing an answer. “Mae govannen, Gildor… my lady. The Lady Estë and Lord Irmo have summoned you to join us in healing our spirits.” (Well met, Gildor…)

Stepping up to embrace his foster son, a smiling Ereinion asked, “How fair Celebrian and Haldir?”

Pleased to see the elf that had raised him, Elrond returned the embrace before answering. “Haldir and Celebrian still sleep… now under the will of Lord Irmo. They are being shown dreams to help them understand the wrongs they have done. The Valar have told us this will take some time, as they hope to help both of them come to a full understanding of the actions they must take to move beyond the grief and pain they have caused us all. While they do this, the Valar wish to help us heal and begin anew.”

“You have… met the Valar?” Meril asked, her worry and uncertainty clear in her eyes.

“Indeed, yes. Have no fears at that prospect, Meril. There is great comfort and love in their presence. You will find new peace in your heart here in these gardens,” he promised, reaching out to take her hand.

Pulling her hand through the crook of his arm, he motioned for them to follow him as he led them in the direction of the glade where their talans were located. “Come, my friends. I have three of my kin I would have you meet.”

“Your kin, Elrond? Who have you found here in Lorien?” Erestor asked, his gaze darting about as he attempted to take in the entirety of the gardens in one glance.

“Be patient, meldir. You will soon see for yourself,” Elrond teased. “Remember, patience is a virtue.” (friend)

“Did Elrond really just lecture Erestor about the need for patience, Ada? Is that not rather like an Orc calling an Uruk-hai ugly?” Melpomaen asked, hoping a little banter might ease the nervous energy gripping his spirit.

“Very like that, my son,” Lindir replied, as faint snickers could be heard from amongst their group. “Or a Noldor accusing a Teleri of being unsubtle.”

-----

Night settled around the greatly expanded party of elves and Maiar. The meal they had been given had helped relax the new arrivals, but their tension was still palatable. Knowing what was to come… the dreams of their greatest sorrows, the small core of family that had first traveled to Lorien struggled to contain their own unease.

Ithil had risen and the Star of Eärendil floated overhead when the return of the Valar to the clearing was heralded by the approaching lights in the woods. Falling to their knees, the company waited. The peace and comfort of their hosts softly wrapped around the hearts of the elves gathered in the glade and the newest arrivals lifted stunned, yet joyful eyes to greet them.

Her soft grey robes fluttering in the gentle breeze, Estë smiled at the gathering. “Welcome to Lorien, Children of Eru Ilúvatar. Fear not the days to come, for they will bring you much needed peace and healing.”

Picking up from her greeting, the Vala Irmo added, “And, now we come to it…”

-----

New cast:
Ránawen (Q - Moon maiden) --- Elros’s Edain wife. I have never been able to find a name for his wife, only his children, so I gave her a name.

Nólindo (Q - Wise heart) --- Elros’ father-in-law and the commander of the Edain encampment where Elros and Elrond were sent during the War of Wraith.


A/N --- *Yes, I know there is no specific reference to Elrond and Elros having fought in the War of Wraith, but I think they might have… so I’m exercising my right as the author of this story to include it as a part of Elrond’s history. I also understand that there is much debate about whether or not any of the Valar took part in the actual battles. I’m personally of the opinion that Tulkas and Oromë would have been there when Angband was razed, so that’s how I wrote it. If you feel differently, that’s fine, but it’s still my story and I’m not changing it. Otherwise, I feel the elves of Valinor and the Maiar under the Herald Eönwë were there for the entire 42 years of the War. Just my opinion, but that’s how Elrond remembers it too! Professor Tolkien didn’t give a lot of details on the War, so other interpretations are surely possible… just in another story!

A/N --- I devoted the last few chapters to the lingering grief Elrond had to be suffering from the loss of so many that were central to his life. The loss of his parents while he was still a very young child, Elros’s choice to be counted among the Secondborn, thus breaking his connection to his twin, Arwen’s choice to accept mortality to be with Estel and their subsequent deaths, were massive blows on top of all the others he endured.

I felt these pains had to be acknowledged first before moving into the failure of his marriage. In the bigger scheme of things, Celebrian’s conduct was almost more ‘insult to injury’ in comparison. She made him an object of ridicule and gossip… denied him the comfort of a marital bond and the support of a life mate. I won’t go off on the broken vows, loss of self-esteem… Anyway, I felt the issues of Arwen/Estel, Elros, and his parents deserved proper attention before I moved back into my main storyline. Thanks for reading! S

*****
Sorry about the tears, MarzBar! Elrond has a lot he needs to get off his chest! Thanks for reading!