bold is used for emphasis
Chapter 8:
Ethuil, Northern Rohan, 2818 T.A.
Idhreneth stepped out into the late afternoon sun, savoring the sounds of laughter coming from the lawn. Sidhiel was oohhing and aahhing and clapping, so Idhreneth had to take a break from packing to see whatever was causing the commotion. When she passed the stable, there were Gildor and Erestor both shirtless, sparring in the clearing. The speed and agility that both Elves displayed was astonishing. Idhreneth had been raised among the Rangers of the North, but even they looked like ungainly, undisciplined brutes compared to these two as they spun and twirled and lunged.
With a particularly deft move, Erestor disarmed Gildor and he yielded. Sidhiel was clapping and cheering both opponents on. Idhreneth walked up, her healer’s eye not missing how heavily Gildor was sweating and how labored his breathing was, while Erestor looked almost serene. “Gildor, I know you feel healed, but you are not. There is much muscle that is still recovering. You need to give yourself time and sparring so vigorously will only serve to delay your recovery.”
Gildor groaned. “Aye, Healer. From our different states, it is apparent that I still have a long road back to full health.” Although Erestor always looks so composed no matter how long he has been sparring.
Erestor turned and shielded his eyes. “You have visitors approaching, my Lady.”
Shortly, two Riders of Rohan rode up to the cottage. Sidhiel peeked from behind Erestor who stood to the Lady’s left, while Gildor leaned heavily against the doorframe and watched the scene unfold.
“My Lady, we seek Idhreneth, the healer of Lifman.”
“I am Idhreneth. What do you require of me?” She stood up to her full height and tossed her single plait back over her shoulder.
“Only to give you a message, my Lady. Queen Freáwyn has gone to be with her forebears one month past. King Léofa requests that you and Sidhiel accompany us back to Edoras.”
Idhreneth would have fainted had Erestor not been there to throw an arm around her waist and catch her.
Sidhiel stormed out from her hiding place and shouted, “We’re not going to Edoras, no matter who asks it. We’re going to Imladris.”
Idhreneth hissed, “Hush, child.” She looked at Erestor. “Could you please assist my guests? They can stay in the hut by the woods. I... I need to sit down for a moment.” She walked into the cottage, with Gildor following, leaving Erestor, Sidhiel, and the Riders staring after her.
By the time Gildor had splashed water on his face and cooled off a bit, Idhreneth was sitting at the little table in the kitchen, her head in her hands, sobbing. Gildor sat beside her and put his arm around her shoulders. “Healer, why the tears when your heart’s desire has finally come true? Is this not what you have waited for?”
She looked up at him with a tear stained face. “Oh, Gildor, this is all that I have waited for but I fear for Sidhiel. You heard her out there and you can see as well as I how attached she has become to Erestor. He is the father she never had. I do not desire to take that away from her, but…” she groaned, “Léofa is singularly possessive. He will not be pleased if she does not arrive with me, especially after his direct request.”
“So your plans have changed, then?” Gildor’s chest constricted, somehow knowing this was not the right choice for all parties involved.
“Yes… no…” she looked outside, “that is the problem. Sidhiel has blossomed under Erestor’s care. He is so good with her, teaching, playing. I am no fool. Léofa will not be as a father to her. His own son was reared by others. I do not want to part them, but I fear what Léofa’s reaction would be if I send her with you.”
“Surely, he will delight in your company and trust in your judgment, Healer. I think you are unaware of your considerable charms. It will be easy for you to convince him of your rationale.”
Idhreneth smiled at his confidence and tried to convince herself that she must do what was right for her granddaughter and not worry about appeasing her lover. There would be other ways to do that.
Sidhiel tagged after Erestor, trying to get him to explain what was going on, but nothing was forthcoming and that made Sidhiel supremely frustrated. She finally gave up and stalked off. Erestor was relieved that she left. He was now unsure if Sidhiel would be traveling with them and he found that idea profoundly unsettling.
By dinnertime, there was still no sign of Sidhiel and Erestor began to worry. He planned to go look for her when Gildor stopped him, “I will take the Riders their meal and I will find her. You two need to talk.” He gave Erestor a knowing look and nodded in Idhreneth’s direction.
Once they were alone, Erestor turned to Idhreneth, “My friend is right, as always. We do need to talk. Or, more accurately, I need to talk and know that you listen.”
“Of course, Erestor. Whatever you have to say, I will hear you out.”
“Idhreneth, when you mentioned the name of the elf that fathered Sidhiel I could not contain my surprise because that elf was my brother.” She gasped in shock, but Erestor continued in a rush, “I believe your daughter mattered a great deal to him and he was returning to her when he was killed. Now I find that I have grown to care deeply for Sidhiel and do not wish her to go to Edoras. She is my only family and I want to raise her as my own. Please do not take her from me.” Erestor exhaled, as if he had been holding his breath tightly in order to finish.
Idhreneth hugged the dark elf tightly. “Oh, Erestor, my apologies. I had no idea. I was so angry when he left and now… to know that he would have returned if he could.” She sighed, tears streaming down her face, “Erestor, I could not take Sidhiel from you. Not before, and especially not knowing this. I could not do that to either of you. She needs to be raised by her father’s people. By you. I know this. I will return with the Riders alone and you three will go to Imladris. Just please make sure she writes to me of her life.”
Ethuil, Imladris, 2818 T.A.
Elrond leaned back and exhaled while stretching his neck. “Saelbeth, I know Erestor can work without cease but I cannot. I need a break. Shall we stop for lunch? We can resume in a few hours.”
Saelbeth didn’t have to be told twice. “That sounds wonderful, híren. I will return in two hours. Thank you.” He laid down his work and quickly left the study. He hadn’t been able to share a mid-day meal with Silamothien more than a handful of times since the Chief Advisor had left and he was not going to miss this opportunity.
Elrond smiled, glad that some of the residents of Imladris had good, solid relationships. He caught a passing servant and requested a meal be prepared and delivered to Glorfindel’s room as he walked to his chambers to freshen up. Soon he was knocking at Glorfindel’s door, but his knock went unanswered. Elrond pushed the door open, “Meldir?” When there was no answer he walked farther into the room, “Glorfindel?” Still no answer.
The food arrived at that moment and he motioned to the low table in front of the fireplace. Once the repast was set up, the servant left. Elrond thought he heard something in Glorfindel’s private bathing chamber. “Fin? Are you all right?” In a moment, Glorfindel was standing in front of him with a towel around his waist, vigorously toweling his hair dry. “Ah, meldir, I was worried when there was no answer. I took the liberty of having food brought here, if you can stand to dine with me yet again.” He reached the table and opened the mild, fruity wine. “Care for a glass?”
“Hannon le, for everything. These past days off have not eased my mind as I had wished; even so, I feel the need to return to my duty,” Glorfindel said as he was stepping into light leggings.
Elrond replied, “It does not appear as though you are sleeping any better. How can you consider returning to your duties?” His Seneschal had dark circles under his eyes which had an almost haunted look in them. His skin was flushed from the bath, but still had a wan look to it instead of its normal healthy glow.
Glorfindel gritted his teeth to keep his composure, “I need the physical distraction. I was obviously not made for enforced relaxation. I am a warrior. It is not just what I do. It is who I am. I was sent here to defend you, your family, and this realm and I must get back to it no matter what,” he finished.
“The sleeping draught is no longer easing your nights?”
Glorfindel pushed his wet hair away from his face. “No… I may no longer dream of my own death, but this dream is far worse, more insidious. It saps me greatly. I need to do something. My duty will provide that. Please.” He almost begged for Elrond’s approval.
“Meldir, maybe I should strengthen the potion? Do you want to tell me about it?”
“No! No more potions. They dull my senses and fail to keep the dreams at bay any longer,” he barked out. “Of course I do not wish to talk about it, but I feel as though I must. Maybe in the light of day it will not hold such power over me…”
“It is Tarnin Austa in Gondolin. I have arrived at the House of the Fountain to escort Ecthelion to the rites. But something is wrong. When I arrive, he is angry with me. Hurt. He seems to think that I took another lover to my bed, our bed. Once he accuses me, I realize that I had dreamt that exact thing. I guess guilt showed on my face. He wilted, no longer angry, just terribly hurt, lost. We do not attend the rites together. He will not go with me. He will not listen. I hear his final words, barely audible, but terrifying as he pushes me out the door, “You have taken all that I have, all that I am. I will find no peace in this life. Námarië, maethoren valthen.” Then the scene shifts and I glimpse Thel through the chaos and smoke. I watch him battle Gothmog, and just before he falls, he turns to me and says, ‘Release me.’ I can hear him across the courtyard and over the battle sounds, just as though he had whispered in my ear. Then I watch him die yet again; his blood on my hands.” Glorfindel was sobbing, cradling his head in his hands. Elrond had his arms around the Elda trying to soothe him.
“Mellon nín, maybe this is the sign you have needed from Ecthelion. Maybe he is trying to tell you that it is over between the two of you, and is asking you to release him so that you each can find love again; he in Aman, you here.” Elrond was ever hopeful.
“If only that were all of it…”
“There is more to this dream? Aíya, no wonder you cannot sleep.”
“It continues, giving me no respite. As actually happened that day; I collapse at Thel’s fall, but it is not my guard that rushes me out of the city as Tuor signals the retreat. It is Erestor. He helps me and all I do is cry for Ecthelion on the heights of Cirith Thoronath. In front of all those fleeing, Erestor has pulled me to safety and I bemoan another. The hurt in those eyes is wrenching. Instead of me fighting the demon, Erestor grabs my sword and slays the beast. He whispers through his pain, ‘I loved you,’ and then the monster’s whip grabs him and he is gone; his blood on my hands as well. I am left alone, bereft, to wait for ages knowing I will never have either of them. I stand on the heights and watch as the sea claims the ruins of Gondolin.” All emotion had left the Elda. His voice was hollow and quiet. He was spent, drained, with nothing left to give.
Elrond gazed at his friend and tightened his arms about him. “We will find a way through this, mellon nín, together. Perhaps you are right about returning to your duties. At least physical activity will tire you such that you may find rest and possibly ease these dreams. Maybe you should try sparring this afternoon.” He looked into lost blue eyes and said, “Erestor will be home soon. I will speak to him the moment he arrives. You do not have to face this alone.”
Glorfindel could only nod, for all words had fled.
“Come let us enjoy this food and wine. You will not fare well if you do not eat.”
This must end. I will speak to Gildor and Erestor when they return.
TBC
Translations:
Ethuil – late spring
pen vuin – dear one
hannon le – I thank you
pen dithen – little one
meldir – my friend (male)
mellon nín – my friend
Tarnin Austa – Summer Solstice celebration in Gondolin
námarië – farewell (Quenya)
maethoren valthen – my golden warrior