Deny Me Not

Disclaimer: LOTR belongs to the creative genius of JRR Tolkien, not me.

Deny Me Not

Chapter 8

After her most distressing conversation with the healers, Amien was filled with a desperate desire to find out how Glorfindel was faring, but knowing that Lord Elrond would not allow her to see the injured seneschal, she had no choice but to wait until he had been left alone to rest. Tears of frustration were added to those already shed in fear for her love’s life and being in no mood for work, she decided to leave the Healing Halls and seek solace in the garden where she and Glorfindel had last spoken.

As she passed the chamber where she knew the injured warrior was being treated, Amien was startled to see the bed empty and no sign of its occupant. Looking around in alarm, she saw the remnants of clothing piled on top of the bloodied cloths that had been used to treat the seneschal’s wounds and her heart began racing wildly with dread as she assumed the worst. However, after a few moments she calmed somewhat, thinking that in all likelihood Glorfindel had merely requested to be allowed to recover in the privacy and comfort of his own chambers. Aye, surely that was exactly what her beloved would do she consoled herself as she picked up the seneschal’s discarded sword belt.

“.. and Nana was most disappointed to learn that the wedding on Midsummer’s Eve will not now happen,” Elrohir was saying to Elladan as they entered the chamber, arms laden with clean linen and a bucket of water to wash away the last traces of the most recent patient that may have still lingered on the wooden bed head. They stopped in mid stride and glared openly in disbelief at their unexpected companion. There was no mistaking the joy on her face, much to the disgust of both Elladan and Elrohir.

“Did I hear you say there will be no wedding?” Amien asked unable to hide her renewed hope now that Glorfindel was apparently alive and well and unbound.

“Aye,” replied Elladan curtly as he set about the task of cleaning the sick bed, unable to bear even speaking to the unfeeling Amien. Elrohir was not so ready to dismiss the self centred maiden he had also come to dislike intensely.

“What are you doing with Glorfindel’s belt?” he demanded angrily, pointing to the item in her hands. As she glanced from one to the other, Amien saw only hardness and anger directed at her from the two pairs of eyes that were so much alike and it was obvious that neither bore her any feelings of friendship. She cared little for their regard, mistakenly believing their feelings stemmed from her rejection of them both, but nothing could have been further from the truth.

When Elrond’s sons had learned of the letter that had caused Erestor such heartbreak, neither believed for a moment that Glorfindel had written it and after some discussion had decided that the only possible culprit was the maid standing before them. Both hoped fervently that their Adar would soon find a way to prove it and a suitable punishment devised, preferably by Erestor and Glorfindel who, judging from their own experiences at incurring their elders’ wrath, were considered by Elladan and Elrohir to be the masters oprimprimand.

“I intend to return it to Lord Glorfindel when he is able to receive visitors. I understand he must be very upset after learning of Lord Erestor’s rejection,” she explained with a shrug, her mind distracted by the information she had just learned.

“It will not be necessary for you to return Lord Glorfindel’s sword belt for he has no need of it now,” Elrohir said in a voice as cold as the winds that blew from the north in winter as he held out his hand in silent demand. Amien paled visibly at those ominous sounding words but clutched the belt tightly, refusing to give it to Elrohir.

“What do you mean?” she whispered fearfully, her eyes wide with apprehension. “Surely Lord Glorfindel survived his injuries?”

“He means that Glorfindel has gone to be with Erestor,” Elladan said with a sigh, seemingly oblivious to the ambiguity of his words.

“Nay, that can not be, Lord Erestor should not have faded. When did it happen?” demanded Amien who was now in a very distressed state of mind and misinterpreted his answer to mean that worsworst nightmare had come true. Erestor must have finally succumbed to Namo’s call and his betrothed had followed him, just as the healers she had spoken to earlier had said he would. Glorfindel was dead

“Elladan, I think Amien believes that Glorfindel has gone to tallsalls of Waiting!”

Elrohir’s words were unspoken, but clearly heard in the mind of his twin, connected as they were by their special bond of closeness.

“Aye and it had it not been for his injury and timely return, and his reunion with Erestor, that may well have happened.” Elladan replied. Elrohir rubbed his temple to relieve the ache caused by the distress in his brother’s thoughts.

“Do you think we should tell her the truth? After all in her own strange way, she really does care for Glorfindel,” Elrohir said with a sympathetic glance at the maiden.

Amien was now sitting dejectedly on the bed with Glorfindel’s belt resting on her lap, weeping and allowing her tears to fall freely as she tenderly ran her fingers along the engraved leather.

“But not for Erestor or his feelings,” observed Elladan, who had always been very fond of the Noldo, both as his tutor and now as his friend, and was unmoved by the display of anguish. “Besides, we have spoken the truth about Glorfindel, have we not?” he asked, his eyebrow rose as if seekinrohirohir’s agreement, which he received without hesitation.

“… As far as it goes.” Elrohir nodded, his eyes lighting with the sudden realisation that his brother was intent on a subtle form of revenge. “I see, so whatever conclusions she draws from our ‘less than helpful’ explanations are her own to deal with?”

“Aye. It would do her no harm to suffer a little after what she tried to do to Erestor and Glorfindel’s relationship.”

Amien was puzzled by the lingering silence, and even more so by the strange smiles on the brethren’s faces as they broke contact and turned their attention back to answering her question.

“We believe Glorfindel joined Erestor several hours ago, not long after you spoke with out naneth, in fact,” replied Elrohir truthfully.

“Nay, that is not possible. How could he choose Erestor over me?” cried Amien in a strangled whisper. “What am I to do now?"

“I suggest you move to that chair over there so that I can finish making the bed,” said Elladan coldly. Amien was numb with grief, and allowed Elladan to take Glorfindel’s belt and usher her to the chair he had indicated. She sat there staring at nothing, her body so wracked with sobs that Elrohir looked on her with a hint of concern.

“Since you are obviously devoured by grief I think we should take you to seek comfort from your Adar,” suggested Elrohir, forcing compassion into his voice. Elladan nodded his acquiescence and each taking an arm to support the listless maiden, they walked slowly towards Galen’s office.

“I wonder if Adar has finished speaking with Galen?” Elrohir mused aloud, more for Amien’s benefit than his brother’s. He was not surprised by her immediate response.

“Lord Ed isd is speaking with Adar?” asked Amien, her eyes wide with fear as she pulled away from her escorts. Unless Galen kept his silence, Lord Elrond would learn of her guilt and she dared not contemplate the outcome.

“Aye, he is suspicious about a letter Glorfindel is alleged to have written to Erestor and seeks to find out who in Imladris would be capable of such a forgery,” explained Elladan.

“Surely he does not think Adar would do such a thing?” Amien asked, for the first time truly considering that Galen might come under suspicion for her actions. It was an unsettling thought and although she knew he was innocent, she hoped Lord Elrond would realise it as well.

“I do not know, but since it resulted in such dire consequences it is important to find out who did write it and punish them accordingly,” added Elrohir, suddenly very wary of Amien’s mercurial mood change, and also wanting to ensure she understood the seditiousness of the situation.

“I am feeling much better now, but think it best if I speak with Nana, she would understand my heartache much better than Ada. You need not accompany me any further,” Amien said as she stood still, refusing to take another step.


The deception behind her words was easily read by Elladan and Elrohir, and only served to confirm their suspicions as to her guilt. However, having no reason other than instincts that screamed at them not to trust the maid, they were reluctantly forced to agree to her request. Nonetheless they watched until Amien was out of sight, and then continued on to Galen’s office.

*************

“Good afternoon, Galen. I hope I am not disturbing you?” said Elrond cordially as he entered the office of the scribe whose detailed inspection of the ancient scroll on his desk reminded him very much of Erestor’s attitude to his work.

“Not at all, my lord, especially if you bring good news of my friend, Lord Erestor?” he asked with genuine concern.

“Erestor is doing well now that Glorfindel has returned,” Elrond informed him, smiling at the very pleased sigh of relief Galen emitted. This elf was nothing like his daughter, and he was apparently quite fond of the Chief Advisor.

“I can not tell you how pleased I am to hear that, but I suspect that is not the only reason for this unexpected visit. How can I be of assistance, Lord Elrond?” Galen asked as he rose and bowed politely before offering Elrond a seat in one of the armchairs he reserved for visitors

“I see you are as astute as my dear Advisor. Indeed require your assistance. I have come across a letter that was supposedly written by Lord Glorfindel, and whilst it is an excellent imitation, it is definitely a forgery. I was wondering if you could perhaps shed some light on the identity of those possessing such a skill?”

“Surely Lord Erestor has more knowledge in this area?” asked Galen, the sinking feeling in his stomach telling him that this was none other than the work of Amien, but he did not wish to see his daughter in trouble if he could avoid it.

“Erestor is still quite indisposed, and unable to think clearly at present other wise he would certainly be able to suggest possible candidates, especially since the letter attacked him personally,” explained Elrond.

“I see. Well, all of your scribes are capable of copying writing style, but I know of none who would chose to court Lord Glorfindel’s wrath by imitating his, nor sending a letter to Lord Erestor who would immediately recognise it as fake,” observed Galen thoughtfully. It was the truth, none of the scribes would do such a thing, and fortunately Amien was not a scribe. “If you wish me to tell you who wrote the letter, I believe I could but I would need to examine it,” said Galen.

“I can not allow that, as I said, the contents are far too personal,” replied a disappointed Elrond. “I suppose we will have to wait until Erestor is well enough to find out the answer.

“Aye, I think that would be wise,” agreed Galen, looking far too relieved for Elrond’s comfort.

“Then I will bid you good afternoon,” he said as he rose to leave. Elrond was totally lost in thought as he walked along the passageway that lead back to his study that he did not see his sons until he literally ran into them and ended unceremoniously sitting on the cold slate of the floor.

“Did you find out who wrote the note, Adar?” asked Elrohir as he made an exaggerated show of straightening Elrond’s robes after helping him up from the floor.

“Nay, Galen was of no help, and in fact I think he was hiding something from me,” replied Elrond.

“Adar, we think it was Amien who wrote that note,” said Elladan. Knowing that his sons were not prone to making unfounded accusations and not surprised that they had reached the same conclusion as he in fact already had, he nodded his agreement then issued orders to his sons.

“Elladan, please find Amien and ask her to come to my study in one hour’s time. Elrohir, see to it that both Galen and Inilwen attend as well.”

“As you wish, Adar,” they replied in unison. Elrond smiled affectionately at the sons he loved dearly and silently thanked the Valar that, for all the mischief they had caused during their childhood, Elladan and Elrohir were now fine, respectable warriors of whom he was justly proud.