In the Garden

Title: In the Garden, Chapter 5 (betaed)
Author: Sorsha
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.net; fanfiction.net
Acknowledgements: Thanks also 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 5 Lenn Ann (Long Journey)

The musicians took a break a little over an hour after the performance began amid enthusiastic approval for the first half. Smiling, Elrond noted that Lindir and his company had been quickly surrounded by their friends eager to discuss his new composition. /It was truly brilliant… but it is well I heard it many times as he practiced, for I heard little of it tonight./

Knowing he was expected to join them in the second half to play one of his old compositions, Elrond was somewhat surprised to realize he was nervous. He and Lindir had selected a piece he had written near the beginning of the Watchful Peace for them to perform. It was a piece he had played many times over the intervening years in the Hall of Fire in Imladris. A quick glace across the room in the direction of ‘his elleth’ was enough for him to understand the source of his unexpected nerves.

Determined to focus his thoughts in preparation for the performance, he had to admit he was happy with their selection. Deceptively simply, ‘Lenn ann’ was both beautiful and disturbing. Elrond’s unease over his visions of the coming war… the final war with Sauron, had infused the melodies with dark images juxtaposed to his cautious hope for eventual peace and the air of eerie calm that had permeated Middle-earth. The turmoil in his private life had added dimension… a buried pain and grief. Through he had written many works during his last centuries on Middle-earth, this piece was, in the composer’s opinion, his best composition during that period. (Long journey)

“I understand we are to be treated to one of your compositions, my dear Elrond. It has been too long since I last heard you play. Sadly, many in Aman have never had that privilege nor perhaps realize you are one of our finest composers.”

Turning, he smiled as he embraced his former King and guardian. “You always give me too much credit, Ereinion. Any skill I have is owed entirely to Lindir’s tenacity in cultivating my modest talents.”

“Why must you always denigrate yourself rather than take a compliment as it is offered? Modesty is a virtue, but…” Gil-Galad began.

“But our friend takes it too far! Ereinion is right. You are an extremely gifted musician and composer. I refuse to hear further from you on this subject, so do not argue!”

Laughing, Elrond moved to greet his mother-in-law with a kiss on her cheek. “I learned long ago not to waste my time arguing with you, Lirimaer. I never win. Besides, I am surrounded tonight by the members of the House of Finrod and, unless my sons quite the gardens to come to my aid, I am left alone to defend the honor of the House of Fingolfin*.” (Lovely one)

Grinning, Galadriel took his hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze. “I am glad to know you have given up arguing with me. Perhaps you could convince my husband to do the same?”

Leaning down, he pretended to whisper in her ear, though his voice was heard by all in the vicinity. “I long ago gave up arguing with him too. He is just as stubborn as you are! You two are indeed well-matched!”

Cutting her eyes to look at the elf in question, she smiled as she met his loving grin. Sighing, she agreed. “I think you may have just won your first round with me, ion.” (son)

As he joined the elves around him in laughing at Galadriel’s reply, his heart skipped a beat. ‘His elleth’ was being led toward him on Celeborn’s arm. “Elrond, tis good to see you! I am looking forward to your performance.”

Struggling to contain his sudden nerves, Elrond cautiously replied. “Thank you, Celeborn. It is ever a pleasure to see you as well. I hope my performance is…”

“Do not dare to suggest you will perform less than brilliantly!” Galadriel proclaimed, stepping subtly to the side to allow Elrond to face Meril directly. “Speaking of brilliant musicians, Elrond you are even more outnumbered than you thought for we have another of the House of Finrod with us tonight. Have you ever had the pleasure of meeting Lady Meril? She is Gildor’s niece… my great-niece and a very talented flutist… as well as, a great talent with both harp and lyre.”

Lost in the depth of her blue eyes, Elrond was slow to respond. Catching himself, he bent to kiss her hand. “Nay, not formally. Tis a pleasure to finally do so, my lady.” A nagging voice in the back of his head insisted her name sounded familiar, though he could not remember why.

Smiling shyly, Meril curtseyed in response to his greeting, a tremor of nerves adding a slight waver to her voice. “Tis a pleasure for me as well, my lord. I did not know you were to play tonight. I am very glad I came, for I have long wanted to hear you perform. You and Master Lindir’s were acclaimed throughout Middle-earth, making Imladris a center for the arts, as well as, learning and medicine. While I attended every performance Master Lindir gave in Lorien, I was never privileged to hear you perform, my lord.”

Charmed by her enthusiasm, Elrond felt a slight blush stealing over his cheeks. “Thank you for your kind words. I will do my best to life up to them. Did you have the opportunity to study with Lindir when he gave classes in Lorien?”

“Indeed I did. My twin and I had that honor on many occasions.”

“That alone tells me Galadriel’s praise is well deserved, for Lindir never allows anyone to attend a second class if they did not display real talent at the first,” Elrond observed.

A soft, lyrical voice spoke from behind him. “While her twin is quite talented, she does not have the instinctive feel for the music Meril has. Both can play flawlessly, but Meril breaths life into the music… much as you do, ion. Her playing draws heavily upon her spirit to invest it with passion and depth.” (son)

As the cluster of friends turned to greet Lindir, he added, “I find it intriguing that I would have said the very same thing about you and your twin. I have never had the joy of teaching two more gifted musicians than you and Meril.”

“I am honored, Master Lindir,” Meril whispered, a deep blush suffusing her face at his praise.

“Gwannant lû ann, penneth. It is indeed a treat to see you. I have missed hearing you perform,” Lindir replied, as he stepped forward to pull her into a quick embrace. (It has been too long, young one.)

‘I have… not played much in recent years. Perhaps, sometime in the future,” she hedged, uncomfortable with the reminder of her last recital.

Knowing the cause of her distress, Lindir quickly redirected the conversation. “I would like that. Maybe you and I can find a time sometime soon… a performance for us alone. A talent such as yours should not be lost, Meril. It is truly a gift from Eru.”

Recognizing defeat when she saw it, Meril smiled graciously. “I would like that, Master Lindir. If I may say, your newest composition is magnificent! I was greatly moved by it, most especially the second movement. I would enjoy the opportunity to study it in detail.”

“That can be easily arranged. We can discuss it at our first session. Please do not leave tonight without our agreeing to a time… but for now I must retrieve Elrond. It is time for us to begin. If you are ready, my lord…” With a sweep of his hand, he urged the elf lord to his place on the stage.

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The music began… soft, soothing melodies, weaving the lilting strains of Lindir’s flute with the rich timbre of Elrond’s harp. Lulled into the peaceful flow of the music, the listeners were startled when sudden shivers of unease trickled down their spines. Before they could identify what had caused this feeling, it was gone… as quickly as it came and the gentle harmonies again caressed their spirits

Pleased smiles were exchanged by the audience as the beauty of the music continued to swell, wrapping its magic around the room… when the flicker of darkness disturbed their collective sense of comfort. Once again, the music retreated to a soothing balm, the momentary ripple of anxiety gone. By the third time the music shifted… this time for more than a fleeting second, puzzled glances began to flicker across the crowded room.

Intrigued by the uncanny power of the music to sooth even as it left its listener troubled by odd and seemingly indiscriminate harsh notes, Meril leaned forward in her seat in wonder. /It feels… like those eerie days of waiting. We knew Sauron had been driven from Dol Guldur, but no one knew where he had gone… or when he would return. Haldir… and his brothers… the twins had been there when he was driven out. They told us of the evil of that place, for it disturbed them greatly. I wanted to comfort Haldir… I did not understand then why he rejected my overtures… insisting we wait to be together. Life went on… peaceful on the surface, but… the hints of lurking evil… the periodic orc attacks… the unease in the air, for Sauron’s threat persisted./

For several minutes, the room was completely silent as the music drifted away. Meril became aware that tears were streaming down her face, though she had no memory of beginning to cry. After a quick, embarrassed look around, she was relieved to find she was not the only one so moved by the music. The applause exploded around the room as the spell woven by the music faded.

“That was… stunning, mellon nin. How is it possible that you managed to convey the mood of that difficult time so completely? I felt I was back in Havens, casting nervous glances over my shoulder at anything that moved in the shadows,” Cirdan observed. “A brilliant piece… one of your best without doubt.” (my friend)

“Indeed. I had long departed those shores by the time of the Watchful Peace… but I know what it must have been like for those of you still there. Quite powerful… moving and wonderfully performed!” Ereinion added.

With that, the audience rose and began to mingle. Discussion flowed around the room, as the two compositions were analyzed and praised. Only one still sat silently in her seat. Elrond watched from across the room as memories… some happy, many painful, played themselves out on her expressive face. As if feeling his gaze, Meril lifted her eyes to meet his. Something unnamed… unspoken passed between them in that moment, though neither would understand just what had happened for some time to come.

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A/N: As to whether or not Elrond was truly the only member of the House of Fingolfin present depends on which version of Ereinion Gil-Galad’s parentage you accept. In a quick recap of genealogy of the High Kings of the Noldor, Finwë had three sons – Fëanor, Fingolfin, and Finarfin. Fëanor’s mother was Miriel (likely also a Noldor). She faded after the rigors of his birth. Finwë remarried to Indis (a Vanyar) who was mother to the two other sons.

As for Gil-Galad, some sources list him as the son of Fingon, Fingolfin’s oldest son. If this is correct, he was obviously of that House and was Elrond’s second cousin. Elrond’s paternal grandmother, Indril, was the only child of Turgon, Fingolfin’s second son. He was the High King that ruled from the hidden City of Gondolin until it was destroyed.

This linage raises the question why did the High Kingship pass to Turgon at Fingon’s death rather than his son and heir? Gil-Galad only came to the throne after his uncle’s death in this scenario. Christopher Tolkien rejected this reference from one of his father’s books and endorsed the second version his father later offered.

The second option is that Gil-Galad was the son of Orodreth, the second son of Finarfin. This makes more sense from a succession standpoint. Since only males could assume the throne (sexist if you ask me), Indril (and therefore her son, Eärendil) would have been passed over, with the throne going to the remaining male heir of the third son, which was Gil-Galad. This practice also meant that the crown could no go to Finarfin’s daughter and Gil-Galad’s aunt, Galadriel.

In a truly Tolkien’esqe twist, the heirs of Finarfin were considered part of the House of Finrod, his oldest son (the one that supposedly had no children) because Finarfin remained in Aman and refused to join the Exiles. Finrod became the leader of this branch of the clan which included Galadriel, Glorfindel (that’s how he is listed although his parents are not named), and, unless he was lying, Gildor. Obviously, I’m using the latter explanation for Gil-Galad’s linage. This linage also supports the idea that Gildor Inglorion was illegitimate, else he would have come to the throne as Finrod’s heir rather than Gil-Galad.

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Hi MarzBar! You know me and conspiracies! Glad you're enjoying my story! More soon!