In the Garden

Title: In the Garden, Chapter 2
Fandom/Pairing: Elrond/OFC, others implied
Rating: PG-13, rating will increase in future chapters
Warning: AU (Story set several hundred years after ROTK in Aman); Het.
Feedback: Constructive feedback appreciated.
Archive: AFF.net; fanfiction.net
Acknowledgements: Thanks also to Lady Victoria for her comments and support.
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, a help of his scheming friends, and the granting of a wish that done thought possible?

Chapter 2 --- A Glimpse Behind the Veil

Her parents had retired to their room soon after the evening meal, giving her no reason to linger in the common rooms of the family talan. Meril knew they worried about her, about her lack of interest in mingling with others of her age. They wanted to see her marry and have children, /but what parents do not want that for their daughters, even when those chances of a suitable match have been damaged… perhaps beyond repair?/

Sighing, the elleth rose from the chair she had taken after dinner and blew out the candles that lit the main room. In days past, her family had made a practice of spending several hours together each evening, talking and singing… music an important part of their lives. /Of course, I am the only one left at home these days. Now that Minuial and Saelrus have married, it is not the same. My twin and her husband prefer living near the sea, and our baby brother is quite happily occupied with his wife and my new niece. Perhaps, they will visit soon and give our parents a pleasant change of pace doting on the baby./

Meril quietly closed the door to her room behind her, hoping her mother had indeed retired for the evening. She was not sure she would be able to quietly endure yet another lecture on the need “to go on with your life and put that unpleasant business behind you”. Her lectures had become a near nightly event in recent months.

/I know she means well… but I am not ready to seek to meet someone new… assuming there would be anyone interested given the talk… I know my family thinks I have “hidden away” long enough for the scandal to have subsided, but they think it was embarrassment that caused me to withdraw. Yes, I was embarrassed… nay, humiliated by his betrayal, but that is not what keeps me from allowing them to introduce me to eligible ellyn. I was hurt and betrayed. I no longer trust my own judgment or feel capable of risking exposing my heart again. I had known his all my life and failed to see…/ (male elves)

Deciding to spend her evening writing, she quickly changed into a light sleeping robe and retrieved the bag with her writing supplies from where it hung on the back of her desk chair. Bag in hand, she drifted out onto the small balcony attached to her room. Sinking down onto the comfortable pile of pillows that often served as her bed, she rummaged in the bag for the red-bound journal she used to house her deepest thoughts, her most secret desires… and her countless poems.

Frowning, she began to remove the items from the bag one by one, puzzled when she could not immediately locate her journal. Once it was empty, she let her eyes scan the room, worried the volume had been misplaced or… worse yet, taken by her parents to read. /You know they would not violate you privacy in such a way. Think! Where did… oh, yes, I dropped it when I was leaving the park. How could I have forgotten! After all, I finally got to speak to him!/

Walking over to the chair, she pulled her journal from the pocket of the dress she had worn for her daily trip to the park. Moving back to her nest, she let the memory of his strong hands gripping her waist replay in her mind, a ripple of pleasure darting along her spine at the memory of his touch. She had been surprised by how deep and stirring his voice had been; she had long wondered. Upon closer observation, she had also noted that his eyes were pure silver, not the grey of his children.

Settling down among her pillows, she found that the mental wall she had erected to keep her from obsessing over the brief encounter had crumbled. /Maybe it is that I have known his sons since we were elflings, but he seems so much more… masculine that they do. That is not fair for I know they are both strong, fierce warriors. I simply do not see them in the same light for we became friends when their Naneth brought them to visit in Lorien. Of course, now I know why she visited so often!./

Studying the details of his face finally visible to her upon closer observation, she had been touched by the care lines that aged his features in a way seldom seen among elves. /It is so sad that he seems so alone. He has lost so much and was deeply hurt by the scandal of his wife. I remember those early days, seeing him in the park. I wish there was something I could say to make it easier for him to bear, for I know too well how painful betrayal can be./

Giving herself a shake to clear her head of the images and thoughts that had begun to occupy her mind in recent years, she opened her journal hoping she could muster sufficient concentration to work on a poem she had been struggling to finish for several days. Meril sat in confusion for several seconds as she began to randomly flip through the book. /This is not my handwriting… drawings. How can this be…/

“Ai! This is not my journal… this is HIS!”

-----

Elrond turned the red-bound journal over and over in his hands, as if the repetitive movement would somehow transform the volume back into his own. /This possibility really should have occurred to me, but… I was so sure there must be some subtle differences in the journals that one of us would have noticed they had been switched. They are truly identical. Whoever made mine for Galadriel, must have liked the style and made others./

Sighing, he set the volume down on the table next to his chair and picked up his glass of wine. “I guess I will have to trust she will do the honorable thing and return it to me unread… as I will hers.”

Leaning back in his chair, Elrond tried to relax, but his spirit refused to comply. Since returning from the park, he had been gripped by an unusual intense sense of dissatisfaction with his life. /Not that I can claim to have been satisfied with my life for… millennia, not since my children were small and needed me. My marriage was as good as it was ever to be during those years and I enjoyed my days. That has not been the case since long before Celebrian was attacked… sailed, but I thought I had grown used to this condition.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself!”

“Were you speaking to me, Elrond?” The softly asked question startled him and he turned sharply to look over his shoulder.

“Lindir! Nay, I was not, meldir. I did not hear you enter. I was, to my embarrassment, talking to myself,” Elrond confessed, a rueful smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “I thought you had gone to the rehearsal at Gildor’s home. You have spent quite a lot of time perfecting the lyrics of that new song. I hear there is much anticipation of your performance at the end of the week.” (friend)

“I was preparing to leave now, but wanted to ask once again if you plan to join us for the recital? Gilder is most keen that you attend. There will be none but your friends present,” the ancient elf urged. “I know all will be disappointed if you do not attend, for it has been some months since you last joined one of our evenings.”

Elrond smiled at his friend’s lifelong habit of worrying about his welfare. Lindir had been a young minstrel and scribe in his parent’s house at the Havens of Sirion. He was one of the few to have survived the attack that destroyed his family. Elrond cherished the memory of their reunion years later in Lindon after Maglor had returned the twins to the care of their distant cousin, Ereinion Gil-Galad. The Teleri had pledged his life to the care of the young peredhil princes, and had been the one unchanging presence in Elrond’s life ever since.

Out of habit, Elrond began to shake his head, even as the words to decline his offer formed on his lips. He stopped as he noted the look of deep worry clouding the pale green eyes of his friend. “Perhaps you are right, meldir. Maybe an evening of music and talk with old friends is exactly what I need. If you would be so kind, please tell our host I will plan to attend.” (friend)

His reward was the beaming smile that lit the minstrel’s ageless face. “Shall I also tell them you will bring your harp, my lord? All would enjoy hearing you play one of your compositions.”

Laughing at Lindir’s obvious manipulation of his vanity in attempting to gain his objective, he nodded his head. “If you like, old friend. Perhaps you will help me select and practice an appropriate piece tomorrow.”

A thoughtful look overtook the white-haired elf’s features as he gave the request some thought. “If I am to have any say in the matter, I would ask you to play Elenalinda. You have not played it for many millennia. The ode you crafted to your parents has always held a special place in my heart.” (song of the stars)

Startled by the request, Elrond’s hand brushed against the red-bound journal as he returned his empty glass to the table. Hearing it drop to the floor, he let his eyes rest on it for a moment before he forced his gaze up to meet the guarded look in his friend’s eyes. “I… will think about it, meldir. You are right. It has been a very long time since I last performed that piece… a duet of harp and flute played with Elros on the night before he sailed.” (friend)

“It is a lovely composition, Elrond… a fitting tribute. Many would like to hear it again.”

-----

Meril stared at the journal like she worried it would spring to life in her hands if she turned her gaze away for a second. /I cannot read this! It would be a violation of his privacy. I would be incensed if he were to read mine, so I must offer the same degree of respect to his private thoughts. I wish I had not seen those sketches of me! I want to study them further… and see if there are still more. I wonder if he may have written about me. Aiya! I cannot look!/

Rising to her feet, she walked with great determination to the bookshelf that dominated one wall of her room and slide the volume into an open space. “There! It will be quite safe there and out of temptations way!”

Satisfied she had done the right thing, she slowly scanned the shelves for a book suitable to take your mind off of the switched journals. /I knew he had a red-bound journal, but I did not realize they were identical. I wonder if his was a gift from my aunt as well? Tis likely, as he is her son-in-law./

The reminder that he had a wife /even one as undeserving as my cousin Celebrian/ resurrected the mental walls she had been struggling to build. Spotting her flute, she impulsively reached to retrieve the slender instrument from its perch on the top shelf of the bookcase. After turning it over in her hands several times, Meril slowly made her way back to the nest of pillows.

Once seated, she stared at it for several long minutes before instinct encouraged her to lift it to her lips. Within minutes, she was lost in the rhythms of her song… a steady stream of tears slipping down her cheeks in harmony with the sad tune her heart had selected for her to play.

-----

Elrond wondered over to the large double-doors that led out onto the patio beyond the main sitting room of his home. Sighing at the thought that the house was meant for a large, active family, he wondered yet again if either of his sons would decide to remain in his house once they married. Both showed signs of finally taking a bride, but neither had indicated their plans for their futures to their father.

/I have long wondered if they fear showing their happiness around me out of concern it will remind me how empty my life is? I need to find a way to reassure them of my pleasure in their happiness. Indeed, it is the one source left to me these days./

Noting without interest that a heavy, humid breeze had begun to blow across the gardens, he lifted his eyes to study the night sky. He had not done this in many years, not since his arrival in Aman. The nightly sight of his father’s star had sustained him on many a long, lonely night in Middle-earth, but the finality of his parent’s loss had been made all too real upon his arrival in the Blessed Lands. A star was no longer an acceptable consolation.

The first night in Alqualondë had dispelled any lingering hope he had that he would be reunited with them in some fashion. A short letter had been delivered to the chambers he had been assigned in the guest house Celebrian had secured for their use. /The separate bedrooms should have been adequate warning that nothing had changed in our marriage,/ he mused, caught in the tide of painful memories.

Retreating to the balcony of those empty rooms, he had read with a crushed heart his mother’s welcome… and request he not visit her tower. Elwing had felt it was not yet the right the time for them to meet and that it “would be best to wait until a more appropriate time” for such a thing. His eyes had remained fixed on the ground, the comfort of a cold and distant star no longer had the power to sooth his torn spirit. They had remained fixed to the earth ever since.

His face hardened against any sign of longing as Elrond wrenched his eyes back to the ground. /Why would Lindir suggest my ode to them? He knows… that song reminds me too much of loss to ever be something I can play again. I trust he will understand when I tell him we must choose something else if he wishes me to perform. I will never perform that song again. They all left me… left me alone. Why should I seek to remember them in song?/

A sudden crack of lightening startled him from his thoughts. The rapid reply of thunder confirmed that a storm was about to break. The heavy air blanketing the gardens hinted that the storm would be of unusual severity compared to other storms he had seen since arriving in Aman. With that thought, the skies opened and a drenching rain began to fall to the accompaniment of a sudden strong wind.

Disinterested in watching the storm as he might once have done, Elrond turned back into the shadowed gloom of the house. /Perhaps, I should find a good book and retire to my bed. My nightly walk is not possible in this weather. Maybe another glass of wine would be a better choice… or a bottle./

Moving toward the door to the library, he opened the cabinet that stored the few bottles of wine and other liqueurs he kept on hand to serve his infrequent quests. Eying the small bottle of miruvor, he considered pouring a large glass of their limited stock. When he sailed, he brought with him root stock of the miruvor berry plants a several select grapes that had long thrived in his valley, hoping to cultivate them in Aman. He had known that miruvor was not found in Aman, but he had as yet failed to find a place where the soil and climate allowed the delicate plants to thrive.

He and Erestor carefully tended the plants they still had, rooting new plants yearly to keep the stock viable, in hopes of one day finding a place where they could be cultivated. Until then, their dwindling quantity of the Imladrian miruvor was all that existed beyond Middle-earth and he carefully rationed its consumption.

Frowning in the face of yet another failure on his part since coming to this land, he grabbed a bottle of wine produced in Aman. It was hardly his favorite vintage, but it would serve the purpose he intended. /There is no point is wasting any miruvor on my bad mood. This wine will do the job and I care not that it is an indifferent offering. In at least one thing Middle-earth was able to far exceed Aman, our wines were much better./

As he walked back across the room headed for his study, he noticed the red journal on the floor next to his favorite. Knowing he had an obligation to keep it secure until he could return it to its owner, he stooped to retrieve it on his way past. After tucking it in the pocket of his robes, he lifted a candle from a table near the door and disappeared into the darkness of his library.

-----

Meril gave a sudden gasp as a cold, driving rain burst upon her. The elleth had been lost in her music for an untold time and the approach of the storm had gone unnoticed. Jumping up, she began to toss her nest of pillows back into her bedchamber hoping to avoid seeing them soaked. By the time she had finished, the rain had plastered her hair to her head and doused the thin cotton of her sleeping robe.

Muttering in disgust at her lack of attention, she dropped her flute on the bed on her way to retrieve a towel from her bathing chamber. Pulling the soaked garment over her head, she tossed it over the side of the tub to be dealt with in the morning. After quickly pulling the clips from her hair, she grabbed a towel from the basket by the vanity and began to vigorously dry the dripping mass of her pale gold hair.

“Meril?”

Sighing, as she heard her mother’s voice in her bedchamber, Meril took a deep breath. “Aye, Nana. I am in here. I was on the porch and got wet when the rain began. I will be out in a minute.”

It took her several minutes to finish drying her hair. Running her hand through the lingering dampness, she pulled her ancient bathing robe from its hook by the door. Once it was belted, she walked out to join her mother, grabbing her brush on her way past.

“I thought you and Ada had retired for the night?”

“Humm. Your father is still reading, so I cannot sleep for the light. I was listening to you play your flute. I so enjoyed that as it has been many years since last you did,” her mother replied. Extending her hand for the brush, she added, “You should play again for you have a true gift.”

Smiling, the younger elleth relinquished the brush and settled at her mother’s feet to allow her to untangle her wild mane of hair. Relaxing into the soothing comfort of her Naneth’s touch, Meril considered her reasons for avoiding music for so long. “Tonight was the first time I felt the… need to play. Playing the flute has been too painful… it has too many memories attached to it. I still doubt if I will ever perform for others again…not even my harp or lyre. He took that from me too.”

“Meril… it is time you put this matter behind you. I understand…”

Reaching up to still her mother’s hands, the elleth whispered, “Nay, Nana, you do not. There are some things that you cannot understand unless you have lived them.”

“You forget, Meril, your father and I suffered with you and were embarrassed by…”

Having heard the coming lecture too many times to endure it again, Meril spun around to face her mother. “Suffered? Were embarrassed? I am sorry for you in this, but you have no idea! I loved him! Since I was a small child, I loved him and… he betrayed me. All those long centuries he lied… telling me we should wait to marry until the danger had passed. He said it was for MY own good!”

Jumping to her feet, she began to pace. “He strung me along… played me for a fool! All that time… and to finally arrive in Aman… sent ahead to make the arrangements, while everyone around me knew he had betrayed me countless times, but no one said a word!”

Pinning her mother with wounded eyes, she cried, “You knew! You and Adar… my brother! Only Minuial did not know…unless my twin lied to me too! I waited that night, expecting him to take his place at the recital, but he never arrived! He left me waiting in public to hear the news he now lived with another… a married elleth, my cousin no less! The daughter of the Lord and Lady he had served for so long! He left me to hear this news through the whispers and cruel jokes of my audience… exposed before a crowd on that stage with only my flute… the flute he gave me when I was an elfling to hide behind!”

Gasping for breath, she ended, “You and Adar were not even there. Saelrus and Minuial… my friends had to see me home. Home… where you waited behind closed doors to tell me the one I loved had abandoned me for another. No, you decided it would be best to stay home rather than come for me when you heard what had happened. All to avoid being caught in the scandal! And you suffered and were embarrassed!”

Rising, her mother reached out to try and take her hands. “We thought it best, Meril. It would have done you no good for your father and me to be seen in the middle of that scene. We have reputations to guard after all. My daughter, you were never alone.”

Turning away, Meril walked over to stare out of the open doorway at the storm raging beyond… blind to all but the storm raging in her heart. “No, Naneth. It would have done me no good to have my parents support as my world collapsed around me. Of course, I understand that guarding your reputations was more important than guarding your daughter. It would have done no good for my parents to be there to help support my reputation.”

Rocked by the anger and bitterness in her daughter’s voice, Elulos stood speechless in the middle of the room, her hands still outstretched. “My child… you know we love you. It was in our family’s best interests for your twin and brother to go to find you. It would cause less attention to be called...”

“Less attention? We both know why you hid at home rather than risk being seen. You are the daughter of Inglor… the great Finrod! But he never bothered to marry yours and Uncle Gilder’s Naneth, did he?!*” Spinning to face her mother, she shouted, “That is the real reason you did not want to call attention to our family… your endless shame in Adar’ra’s fathering children outside of marriage. Even in Aman, he finally married Amarië, not Naneth’ra and she married his Seneschal as she always wanted to do, renewing the scandal.” (Grandfather) (Grandmother)

Sobbing she continued. “I did nothing that brought further shame to our family. I am still a virgin, though many make sport of that likelihood! I was one of the ones wronged! I needed your support and you failed me!”

The sudden silence of the room stunned them both. Several long minutes passed without either of them speaking. A deep voice from behind them broke the taunt silence. “She is right, Los. We have focused on forcing her to move past her grief rather than understanding it. We trivialized it by making it a matter of embarrassment, not true injury. Neither of us wanted to think our child had been badly hurt, and we were helpless to stop it from happening. Now she thinks we knew and said nothing. This must end.”

Both turned to stare at the elf standing in the doorway. Cúron, Meril’s father, walked quietly over to take his wife’s hands. “We have done our child a disservice not to have realized the depth of her pain. We… I should have gone to find her that night, but I knew your grief in your Adar’s conduct and wanted to spare you further embarrassment. That night, we should have made that of secondary importance to her well-being.”

Swimming blue eyes lifted to meet her husband’s. “I never meant to hurt her further. I… we love her deeply! She has forgiven her friends and they truly knew…”

“They knew and were torn in two. Haldir is their brother. I have heard them… they hoped he would reform and be true to her once the marriage was made. Unlike her own family, they have apologized and asked for her forgiveness. They have respected her right to be hurt and to grieve,” he whispered.

“Apologize?” Pained comprehension overtook her face as Elulos looked over at her daughter. “Meril… I love you dearly, my daughter. I am so sorry to have hurt you… added to your pain. Please forgive me, pen vuil!” (dear one)

“I ask your forgiveness as well, penneth. I should have been there to protect you and give you my support,” her father offered. (young one)

Meril stood frozen in the center of her room for but a moment. “Ai! Ada! Nana!” With that, she threw herself into the outstretched arms that had opened to receive her.

-----

Lindir sighed heavily as he found his friend slumped in the chair behind his desk in the library, an empty wine bottle sitting before him on the table. /I feared suggesting that ode might make him react badly. He has so much grief smothering his spirit and no one he will let close enough to truly help him come to terms with it… someone to give him new reason to look to the future in hope and not constantly back to a painful past./

Glancing out the window he noted that the storm had gentled into a steady rain. The stars were veiled and Ithil’s light was hidden behind the dense clouds that hung over the city. The ancient elf sometimes wondered if the Valar… Eru Ilúvatar ever took the time to notice how much had been taken from this one elf.

/Not all at once, as with a family lost in some disaster,/ he mused/, but piece by piece for millennia. Since he felt the passing of Arwen and Estel, Elrond had been but a pale shadow of his former self. The loses have chipped away at his fëa and left so little behind./ (spirit)

Hearing a noise at the door, he turned to find Elladan and Elrohir standing uncertainly in the doorway. “As I feared, my suggestion of a song has… reopened old wounds.”

“Indeed. It is not like Ada to drink himself to sleep,” Elladan responded. “Shall we help you carry him to his room?”

“Thank you, but I can carry him. I have seen him to his bed many a time since he was a baby in his parent’s house. Until Eru grants him the partner he needs to share his life, we must see to his care,” he replied.

Elrohir nodded his head, having expected that answer. “I will see that the candles are snuffed behind you while Elladan goes ahead to turn down the bed.”

Turning to go, he looked back at his father’s slumped form. “I fear if Eru does not soon listen… if the Valar do not take pity on his plight, we will lose him. He grows lonelier… more alone with each passing year.”

Three sets of eyes looked toward the darkened sky, hoping to see some sign the Valar were listening. A sudden flash of lightening lit the gardens beyond the open archway. For several long seconds, a statue of Elbereth Elrond had brought with him from Imladris was illuminated in a pure white light, the soft glow highlighting the loving smile that graced her face.

An equally soft, “Galu am i Elbereth!” was the only sound in the silent library. (Blessings upon the Star-lady!)


-----

Elvish names:
Meril (Rose) --- our heroine
Minuial (Dawn) --- Meril’s younger twin, called Min by her family
Saelrus (Wise fox) --- Meril’s baby brother, shortened to Sael
Elulos (blue flower) --- Meril’s mother or Los to her husband and family
Cúron (Crescent Moon) --- Meril’s father


A/N: * In The Fellowship of the Ring, the hobbits meet an elf who identifies himself as “I am Gildor ... Gildor Inglorion of the House of Finrod.” Inglorion means son of Inglor. That raises all types of questions about this elf’s parentage, as Tolkien wrote in The Silmarillion Finrod (or Inglor as he was also named) was not married and had no children. His true love was Amarië, a Vanyar elleth, who did not join him in exile.

One explanation for Gildor’s existence is he was conceived on the ‘wrong side of the sheets’, though this raises all types of LACE issues. But, for the purposes of my story, what if Finrod sired not one, but two illegitimate children (twins) by a mistress? (Note: Finrod and his mistress’s marriages in Aman are all part of my story, not canon.)

I know LACE says that marriage occurs once the couple has sex, but I read this to mean a couple has agreed to marry of their own free will, are both free to do so, and then consummate that agreement… the physical acceptance of the vows they have made to each other. While I know Tolkien would never approve of the idea of promiscuous elves, I am not suggesting that. I would argue the Eldar would be very conservative in matters of sexual relationships. Still, I don’t read LACE to say sex without commitment meant marriage. In the chapter of Morgoth’s Ring containing the reference to sex and marriage, it is discussing just that… marriage, not sex itself.

I guess the nearest equivalent concept would be the Western concept of common-law marriage. If I live with and have a sexual relationship with someone and address him as my husband within his hearing, unless he refutes it, we are legally married. If however, I never claim to be his wife or suggest we are married, no such claim would exist despite the fact we cohabit and have sex.

So, if Finrod/Inglor slept with an elleth with no promise of marriage between them, then no marriage exists regardless of any child that may have resulted from the affair. Illegitimate children are seldom included in ‘official records’ no matter how unfair this is to the child. It also explains why Gildor never became the High King as he would have if he was indeed Finrod’s son. While other possible explanations are possible (say, Tolkien forgot what he wrote in one book and contradicted it in another… that never happened, right?), this does offer on option that make Gildor’s comment true and still fits the ‘official record’.

That’s the premise of this part of my story as to Gildor and his sister. If my reading of canon disagrees with yours, sorry, but I’m as entitled to my opinion as you are. Note I marked the story AU, so I’m covered either way. If you have a problem with this, stop reading. I’m writing this for fun and for love of Tolkien, not a PhD in English Lit.

*****

Thanks Tenar. I hope the rest of the story lives up to the start!

MarzBar! Thanks, mellon nin!

Waiting, I'm well on my way with this story. I've got 14 chapters written already!