In the Garden

Title: In the Garden, Chapter 30 (B)
Author: Sorsha_711
Fandom/Pairing: Elrond/OFC, others implied
Rating: R
Warning: AU (Story set several hundred years after ROTK in Aman); Het.
Feedback: Constructive feedback appreciated.
Archive: AFF; FF: OEAM; livejournal
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 35 --- Sailing

The sea sparkled brightly as the mid-morning sun coasted across a cloudless sky. Standing near midship, Elrond made no secret that he was blatantly watching Meril as she helped her three young cousins string line on their fishing poles. Trading a knowing grin with his wife, Glorfindel lounged nearby, content for the moment to let someone else entertain his eternally active boys.

“Meril, I am going to catch the biggest fish. I will share it you and my Naneth’ra,” Tógdur happily proclaimed, his chubby hands wrapped tightly around his fishing pole.

Sneering at his youngest brother, Innas shook his head. “Do not be ridiculous, Tóg. I am the oldest and I will surely catch the biggest fish. Meril can have some of my fish.”

“I will too catch a big fish… bigger than you! Adar’ra says I will be a great sailor and great sailors always catch the best fish!” the seven-year old insisted, his cobalt blue eyes alight with determination.

Sighing, Celairion looked up into Meril’s twinkling eyes. “Do you see how I must pass my days, Cousin? I am forever caught between these two and their boasting.”

Struggling not to laugh, Meril teased, “What none of you is considering is the possibility that I will catch the biggest fish. Or maybe I will simply catch the most fish… or the prettiest fish.”

Three amazed faces turned up to stare at her. Celairion shook his head as if to clear it of such a notion. “But Meril… you are a girl! Everybody knows girls are not great fisherelves.”

“Oh, so ellith cannot be great fisherelves!” she repeated, trading a look with their mother. “I must then assume that ellith cannot be great warriors either.”

“Nay, that is not true! Nana is a great warrior, just like Ada!” Innas insisted. “Ellith can be great warriors, but not great fisherelves.”

Adopting a disappointed expression, Meril sighed. “Oh… I see. Well, I am not a great warrior and you tell me I cannot be a great fisherelf. What am I to do?”

Dropping his fishing pole, Tógdur threw his arms around her legs. “I am sorry, Meril. You can fish with me and I will teach you to fish as well as any elleth there is. Besides, you are a great musician. That is good too.”

Touched by the elfling’s concern, Meril knelt and returned his hug with one of her own. “Thank you Tóg. That is very sweet of you.”

Two small hands came to rest on her shoulders. With the awkward grace of children, the two other boys began to pat her shoulder hoping to comfort her. “We will help teach you too, Meril. You will be a very good fisherelf even if you cannot be great like we will be,” Innas promised. “Like Tóg says, you are a great musician. That is a very good thing to be.”

“I like your classes at school, Cousin Meril. I want to be a great musician like you,” Celairion offered. “You cannot be great at all things, my Ada says. We will teach you to fish and you need only do your best. That is all anybody should expect of a person, Nana says.”

Pulling the other two elflings into the hug, Meril confessed, “I already know how to fish, dear ones. Your Adar’ra taught me when I was about your age, but I am sure you can teach me to be better. It has been many, many years since I last went fishing in the ocean, so I have likely forgotten most of what he taught me.”

Nodding, Celairion confirmed, “There is always something new to learn… as Lord Elrond tells us. Ada says Lord Elrond is the wisest elf he knows and he has known many, so he must be right.”

Sending a loving grin toward her amused suitor, Meril agreed. “Indeed, he is. Now, I think you promised me a fishing lesson, pynneth.” (young ones)

-----

Watching his wife as she rose to join Meril for a ‘fishing lesson’ with their sons, Glorfindel motioned for his friend to join him. Once Elrond had settled into the deck chair Gwing had vacated, the blond elf observed, “Not exactly being subtle in your interest, mellon nin. It is a good thing my sons are so focused on fishing or they would likely ask why you are staring at Meril in this manner.” (my friend)

A faint chuckle greeted the mild admonishment, as Elrond glanced to his left to meet the twinkling eyes of the other elf. “I am entitled to watch her in this manner. She has agreed to my courtship.”

“If you thought there was any doubt of this, you were the only one,” Glorfindel countered. “Still, you need to retain some discretion for now. You have only been free to make your suit less than three weeks. You do not want to invite unwarranted speculation now. In the hostile climate Ingwe is fostering, you do not want to give them any opportunity to suggest your courtship predates the Valar’s decision.”

Sighing, Elrond sank back into his chair and rested his head against the high back. “I know this… you are right to remind me, for I was letting the heady pleasure of her acceptance blind me.”

“Do not become melancholy, my friend. You will have ample opportunities to court my fair cousin. Simply make sure that you have no audience beyond those of us that know the truth.” Frowning slightly, he added, “Her father is due to return from visiting family in Alqualondë by nightfall. You will need to be especially discrete in his company for now.”

“How long, Glory? How long before propriety is met and I can stop placing society’s opinion’s above my need to be with her? It seems my life is forever given to duty.”

Reaching over to snag a waterskin from the gear he and Gwing had brought with them, Glorfindel took a thirsty drink as he considered his friend’s question. Handing Elrond the skin, he mused aloud. “I suspect your life will always be heavily dictated by duty, meldir. Such has been the pattern of almost seven thousand years, a pattern not likely to change here in Aman. But duty does not preclude happiness… the right to your own life. That right has been returned to you. I merely urge you proceed with discretion for now.” (friend)

Nodding, Elrond accepted the waterskin and let a generous trickle flow down his throat. Slumping slightly, he admitted, “I know this. Your counsel for caution is prudent. Once again, my native inclination to impatience is getting the better of my reason.”

Laughing, the blond fixed him with a wicked grin. “I do not think it is your ‘native impatience’ that has clouded your reason. I think having the only elleth to penetrate the wall you constructed around your heart… your passions in many millennia finally in your arms, that has fogged your reason. It is not your head that is doing your thinking at the moment!”

Chuckling in response to the teasing, Elrond shook his head. “While I admit there is a certain amount of truth in your words, Meril inspires far more than my desires. I need her as I have never needed another… and not simply to share my bed. She makes me feel whole and grounded. I believe she is my other half.”

Turning back to study the progress of the fishing lesson, Glorfindel’s gaze settled on his wife. “I understand, my friend. It took me two lifetimes to find my own… find her right under my very nose. I had always found Gwing lovely and desirable… an impressive mix of strength and compassion, but it was not until we found ourselves on the ship to Aman that I understood why the memories of our brief meetings had lingered in my dreams for centuries.”

Feeling his gaze, Gwing’s sky-blue eyes lifted from helping their middle son remove the hook from the fish he had caught and locked with his. “It was quite a shock to my senses the moment it all made sense. I… we simply knew. Rather than falling into each others arms in a grand romantic scene such as the poets lead us to expect, our response was to laugh… laugh with utter joy. Our sudden amusement inspired those around us to join us. They had been waiting with secret amusement for us to understand what they had seen the moment our party arrived in Mithlond. You have heard Cirdan and Erestor tease us about this for years.”

Still holding his wife’s gaze, he concluded, “For each of us, Eru has a plan. When the right one is before us, we know it. You and Meril have had your moment of revelation. Like my fellow travellers on our voyage across the sea, the rest of us have understood that she is your other half for some time now. Give matters a few months to settle down, then you can proclaim your good fortune to the rest of Aman… their good opinion be damned.”

“I have heard of the entertainment the two of you provided for the voyage. Erestor and Mel love to tell the story.” Grinning, Elrond offered, “I can only hope Meril and I will provide equal amusement for our family and friends!”

“Humm… why do you speak as if you have not already?” Laughing at the annoyed look his comment produced, Glorfindel pushed himself to his feet. “Come, my dear Elrond. I think our ladies need a little help in keeping my sons out of trouble. Eru must have heard me lament the mischief your children caused. He, in his infinite wisdom and good humour, gifted us three that rival them!”

Rising to follow the ‘little balrogs’s’ father to join the fishing lesson, Elrond teased, “Do not fool yourself… my ‘nephews’ are worse.”

Cutting his eyes back at his friend, their Ada crowed, “Be careful there! Eru is listening and you may yet be gifted elflings that make mine look tame!”

Groaning, Elrond shook his head at the notion. Seeing the amusement that lit both ellith’s faces confirmed they had heard the last of their banter. Catching Meril’s eyes, he winked. /With Meril as their naneth, I do not find such a prospect all that daunting./

-----

It was late in the afternoon before Dínenaer, with his proud Ada standing close by, guided the ship into its berth at the docks that served Ostovinya. A gangplank was quickly secured between the ship and the dock once the ship’s lines had been tied to the moorings. Several attendants had quickly arrived to collect the baskets of fish, crabs, and shrimp they had caught, so that they could be taken to the cooks for the evening meal.

Meril followed then slowly down the gangplank, Celairion cradled in her arms as the youngster struggled to stay awake. He and his brothers had kept the adults busy throughout the trip, only sitting quietly for the space of time needed to gobble down their lunch. In the end, the three elflings had exhausted themselves as well as their ‘pupils’, but it was a good sort of exhaustion, the type that followed a day spent in the open air in the company of loved ones.

“Will the cook know which fish is mine?” Celairion murmured against Meril’s neck. “I caught the biggest after all.”

Smiling against his soft hair, Meril promised, “I will stop by the kitchens and make sure they know, penneth. You and your brothers will have time for a short nap and a bath before the evening meal is served.” (young one)

Nodding, the elfling promised as sleep overtook him, “I will share it with you and Naneth’ra.”

“That is very generous, Celairion,” Meril whispered against his small ear. “I will look forward to dinner.”

“Let me take him, Meril. I see your father has returned from Alqualondë and is waiting for you by the stairs that led to the main house.”

Looking up to see Cirdan standing at her side, Meril smiled and let the elfling’s grandfather take him from her. “He and his brothers are so sweet… full of themselves, but very sweet.”

Settling the child into his arms, the ancient Teleri shared her smile. “I agree most heartily, dear one. I watched you with them today. Your own children will be blessed having you for their naneth, for you have a natural way with elflings.”

Frowning at the look of uncertainty and doubt that wiped the smile from his niece’s features, Cirdan guided her to one side so that the others could pass. Once they were alone save for the sleeping elfling, he asked, “Meril… what troubles you? Elrond has told me he would be happy if you two have children when the time is right. Talk to him if this concerns you.”

“It never occurred to me he would not, Uncle, for I know how much he loves children… his own most especially.” Letting her voice drop to a faint whisper, she admitted, “I only hope you are right that I would make a good mother. I dearly want children, but…”

Shifting the sleeping child into a more comfortable position, Cirdan stepped a little closer to Meril. In a soft voice, he pressed, “But, what?”

Sighing, Meril reached over to tuck a windswept lock of golden hair behind Celairion’s ear. “They say you learn by example. What if… what if I am not a good mother? I would rather fade and go to Mandos before I hurt my child as mine did me. What if I am like her?”

“Ah… Meril, that will not be the case. I have known your mother for many millennia and I have had the pleasure of knowing you all of your life.” Smiling down into her troubled eyes, he assured, “You are not like your mother in temperament or conduct. You will be a fine mother. You are very like your Uncle Gildor or your grandfather, Finrod. They are both fine fathers as you well know. You will see. You will be all a child could hope to have as their mother. Of this, I have no doubts.”

Smiling gratefully, Meril turned back toward the bustling wharf. Walking slowly, she whispered, “I hope you are right, Uncle Cirdan. To be honest, I have more than a few doubts in this regard. I still have so much to resolve with my family, but I fear being… damaged and unable to be the wife Elrond deserves… the mother our children will need.”

“Talk to Elrond as truthfully as you are to me, pen vuil,” Cirdan counselled. “I have no doubt he has his own worries he has yet to resolve. Remember, his marriage ended in an annulment, an unheard of thing among the Eldar. This, no doubt, has left him with his own insecurities. My best advice to you both is to admit them to each other and let your partner help you find peace from your worries. That is one of the greatest gifts of a true marriage… a partner to share our worries and grief… a partner to help us find our way. Talk to Elrond, Meril, and do it soon so that these worries do not take control of your heart.” (dear one)

Relieved by the practical, well-considered advice, Meril felt the weight of her doubts ease a little. “Hannon le, Uncle. I will do that.” (Thank you, Uncle)

Satisfied that his words had had their desired effect, he changed the topic of conversation. “Your Ada is waiting… he looks concerned by our delay. Go and greet him and we will talk about this more if you need me. Your aunt and I are here for both of you. Do not forget this and come to us if you are troubled.”

Nodding, Meril stretched up to press a kiss to the weathered skin of his cheek. “I will. I thank you for your love and support. It means more than I can say.”

Smiling down at her, he urged, “I do love you, penneth, as do the rest of our family. Now go.” (young one)

Watching as his niece moved off to greet her father, he took note of the obvious strain that still existed between the two. Sighing, he made a mental note to talk with Elrond and Gildor as soon as possible. /There is no sense in letting her fears persist. Her parents failed her badly, but we will not. Bonding to Elrond will help them both finally heal, but until then, we will help them along their way./

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A/N --- Glorfindel and Gwing’s sons… aka, the ‘little balrogs’:

Innas (S --- will) is the oldest of the three at seventeen. While bold and adventurous, he inherited his parents’ artist spirits and that will shape his destiny. An intriguing mix of east and west, his works will one day delight, amaze, and even shock the residents of Aman.

Celairion (S – brilliant son) is the middle son and is given to being a little bit of a ‘know-it-all. More serious by nature than his brothers, he is destined to be a scholar and poet. But that is another story. He is thirteen.

Tógdur (S – brings victory) is the youngest of the three. He has inherited the warrior hearts of both the Balrog Slayer and the Guardian of the Grey Havens. His name will become legend in Arda. Yes, Arda… but that will not be for many millennia.