CHAPTER 7: The Comforts of Imladris

Yara could feel the camp around her being emptied even as she slept, but it was only when a kindly man made to fold away the blanket she was resting on that she woke up. She smiled at him, and searched the clearing for her companions. She saw Galdor and Gildor engaged in serious conversation, and she could hear from the tones in their voices that they were disagreeing. She frowned a little, and looked around. Lindir was resting below a tree, his eyes open and glossed over. She knew that her companions rested from time to time, but during their travels she had never seen more than a hint of their shapes next to her. Now that she saw him there, so vulnerable and open, it made her feel strangely protective. Then Melmeleth came up to her, a warm smile on her face.

"Drink," she offered Yara a cup of water. "The horses are waiting. I will wake Lindir once Galdor is ready."

Yara drank the water, and when she was done one of the elves from Gildor's company took the cup from her. She could see the horses waiting on the edge of the clearing, and she slowly made her way there, careful not to get in the way of the people packing.

Elu greeted her with a soft huff into her chest. He was half-asleep, and as she stroked him she could feel his exhaustion.

"We will be in Imladris soon, I hope," she whispered to him.

He buffed her chest reassuringly, and she smiled. She put her arms around him, her fingers nestled in his mane, and before she knew it he was asleep again, his head on her shoulder. It was a considerable burden, but she had not the heart to wake him, and it felt good that, for a change, she could be able to support someone else, rather than the other way around.

Galdor was the first to join her, and she could feel his brooding before he was even close. She frowned a little, and shifted her weight to try and catch a glimpse of his face. Elu woke at this, and she was able to look Galdor straight in the eyes.
He scowled at her inquisitive gaze, and Yara sighed in response. Something soft flickered across Galdor's face, and he shook his head slowly as he began rousing his horse.

"She does not even know the words to describe my troubles, and yet she still wants to share in them," he whispered to his waking steed. "I doubt my wisdom is enough for Lord Elrond, if I cannot even bring myself to see good from evil. It pains me that Gildor will not go, and will give me no advice. Perhaps we elves should hold no councils at all, and leave your kind to graze freely."

At this his horse gave a great snort, and rubbed his head along Galdor's side, causing him to burst into laughter. Yara did too, not only at Galdor being thrown off his balance, but also because she had hardly heard Galdor's laugh since they left Mithlond.

"Yes, you laugh!" Galdor shot at her, and mounted, still silently chuckling.

Once Lindir and Melmeleth were both there as well Yara sat up, and as they rode away she noticed that Gildor's entire company had disappeared, leaving no trace behind them except for a feeling of happiness in the grove. She smiled, even as she saw the long road stretching into the distance ahead.


They passed another bridge at dusk the next day, more sturdy than the one in the land of the Perian, and rested for a short while on the other side, before continuing their journey by moonlight. There was now a thick and wild wood on their left, but they did not pass into it. This encouraged Yara, not only because she felt safer, but because the road seemed less wild here, and she felt sure that they were moving closer to civilisation. The road was still deserted though, and they did not slow their speed, passing the trees at a canter whenever they were on horseback.

This went on monotonously for the first night, until the terrain became less flat, and they had to slow to a walk for the most part. However, that allowed Lindir to sing again without interruption, joined often by his sister, and sometimes even by Galdor. All in all the mood was light, and Yara smiled more, even though beneath it her heart was still heavy.

Melmeleth could hear Yara whisper encouragingly to Elu now and then, and it always brought a smile to her face to see her friend's optimism. She wondered how much Yara really knew about where they were heading, and why, and what she was expecting once they got there, but all in all, she was happy just to see how much less shut in Yara was. She knew it wasn't more than a chip in the surface, but a chip was better than nothing, she thought.

And so it was that their small company passed the Ford of Bruinen, three engaged in song, and one laughing at the silly melody. The horses, although noticeably tired, lifted their legs happily in the water, and neighed as the spray hit their riders. Yara was sitting comfortably on Elu's back now, her hands swinging to catch the water without so much as a thought to her balance. Once they had come across the landscape became even more wild, and Yara expertly shifted her weight on Elu as they went up and down the ridges.

'If my brother could see me now,' she smiled to herself, and even as the sorrow of his death hit her, the smile lingered on her face.


The sun was high in the sky and Yara could smell the waterfalls before she heard them, the mists rising far in the heat as they came over the last ridge. In front of her Yara saw a stone bridge more narrow than she would have liked, and as they crossed it she closed her eyes, her hands trustingly placed on Elu's withers. She opened her eyes at a safe distance, and realised that the singing was no longer coming from Lindir alone, but from all around them, even if she could not yet see the singers. What she did see, though, were buildings, rising from the rock and mingled with the forest, stretching out along the river as they passed through an ornate arch not very unlike the one marking the entrance to Mithlond.

She could both hear and see the waterfall now, rolling with perpetual force down the rocks, and appearing from the glittering sunlit mists she could see an array of smiling, singing faces, all pausing to look at them as they passed, many shouting greetings with great mirth. Mostly she could hear Lindir's name shouted, but the only one truly left out from the joyous calls was Yara, and the loneliness it incited reminded her of what she had been longing for for so long – reception on her phone.

With a great gasp at her own forgetfulness she leaned forward and quickly, almost recklessly, dug her phone out. She gave no heed to the beauty of her surroundings any more, and had eyes only for the screen as Elu kept treading dutifully along. It seemed to take forever for the phone to come back alive, and Yara didn't notice that they had stopped. She unlocked it, turned roaming and wifi on, reloaded, reloaded again, and… Nothing. She froze, staring silently at the 'No Service'-message in the corner as the tears welled up painfully in her eyes.

Then she screamed. Not a beautiful wail of sorrow, but a deep, grunting, ripping scream. All the horses startled, and Elu stamped back and forth until Melmeleth was able to lay a hand on his forehead. Yara slumped down across his back, her phone clutched to her chest as she tried to breathe through her wails. She had been wholly unprepared for how deep a disappointment it would be to be let down of her last hopes, unaware of how much she herself had staked on this last proof that she was definitely, irrevocably, abandoned.

Galdor had jumped down from his horse, his face grave as he bent to catch Yara's eyes. They were shut tight, and, surrounded by the sudden silence Yara's outburst had caught, he took it upon himself to carry her again. With strong arms he scooped her off of Elu's back, and pressed her shaking frame to his chest. He tried his best to shield her from the curious and shocked crowd around them, but felt desperately inadequate.

"Lindir," he pleaded to his companion, and Lindir silently led him through a doorway to the right, Melmeleth running after.

Yara didn't hear Galdor's voice as he carried her, but she could feel the humming from his chest, and she instinctively pressed herself closer to it. She didn't care anymore if she was crossing boundaries or behaving wrongly. She didn't want to behave at all. She wanted to disappear, to fall again into a river and this time remain in the cold water and never have to wake again. Her crying renewed at the thought.

Melmeleth's eyes shot to Yara with worry at her whimpers, and she prodded her brother's back with her fingers to urge him to speed up. Lindir shot a frown over his shoulder, but Melmeleth had no time to speak before he flung open a door to an empty room. The mattress was covered with a dusty blanket and a few leaves had fallen through the half-open window facing the street below. Lindir hurried to close it, and Galdor deposited Yara on the bed. Melmeleth quickly pushed him away, and fell on her knees beside her friend.

"Wilwarin, what happened?"

Yara could feel the warmth from Melmeleth's hand on her shoulder, but she didn't want it. She wanted nothing. With a growl she pushed away Melmeleth's arm, and with a few aggressive rips she had wrapped herself completely in the dusty bedspread, sobbing in the darkness.

"What can I do?" Melmeleth called to her companions, for the first time truly shaken by Yara's emotions.

"I will find Lord Elrond," Lindir said gravely, and disappeared out the door.

"It seems her mystery has proven more urgent than we expected," Galdor said, and his words came out harsher than he had intended, sounding like mockery to Melmeleth's ears.

"Only a cold hearted soul could see despair as a mystery," she hissed at him.

"No, I…" Galdor looked truly repentant, but Melmeleth was on her knees again, trying to whisper words of comfort through Yara's sobs and gurgles.

Lindir returned alone shortly after, pausing in the doorway to take in the scene, unchanged since he left, but still dramatic. He caught himself staring, and shook himself alive again.

"Lord Elrond will be here shortly, he says for us to leave her."

Galdor did not need further encouragement, and left the room. Lindir stood himself next to his sister, and softly laid a hand on her back.

"Lord Elrond will help her."

He spoke softly, but Melmeleth didn't want to listen. It went against her every instinct to leave Yara alone at that moment.

"Come, sister," Lindir said, and even Yara under her covers could hear the unprecedented stern tone he took. Yara felt Melmeleth's presence slip away, and as it did her wails subsided, but the ice inside her spread, until she was frozen as she lay curled up on the rough mattress, waiting for the dark to swallow her consciousness.

In the hallway outside Galdor stood silent watch. Melmeleth met his lamenting gaze for just a second, but in that second any ill will between them lifted, as they both shared their concern for Yara. Then Melmeleth let herself be led aside by her brother, and as Lord Elrond strode past them she only saw the billowing red of his robes against the stone floor before she closed her eyes and leaned into her brother's chest.

Yara felt him in the door; this new presence of such radiating power, pulling her mind from sleep just by entering the room. She felt anger then, and pulled the cover closer around herself, her fingers like claws in the fabric. She heard his soft footfalls as he slowly approached the bed, and she heard his voice, deep and melodic, a soft and strong all at once.

'No,' she thought, 'leave me, leave me, leave me…'

"Leave me!"she shrieked. He might not have understood her language, but at least he shut up.

Elrond's breath caught at her outburst, and he stopped in his tracks. Lindir had told him that she couldn't tell them what was wrong, but not that she spoke another language. He was very eager, in that moment, to rip the blanket from her, to push himself into her mind, to find out everything – but he knew better. His face betrayed only compassion, and he allowed her to hide. He walked over to the windows and opened them wide, and then he left the room, closing the door behind him.

"It is best we leave her be, I think," Elrond said to the arrivals waiting in the hallway. "I should like for one of you to remain nearby, in case she comes out, but I do not expect her to."

"It should be I," Melmeleth mumbled.

"Very well," Elrond nodded. "Lindir, Galdor, if you would come with me to my study, we have much to discuss."

The men nodded and began walking, but stopped when Elrond remained still, his eyes on Melmeleth's still downturned face.

"Do not lose hope, Melmeleth," he said softly, and she peered up at him cautiously. "When the time is right we will speak of your friend, and together we will help her."

"Thank you, my lord," Melmeleth whispered meekly, and Elrond left her.


Yara was alone. She had been alone for what was probably hours, and even from below her blanket she could see that night had fallen. She had woken up from her anxiety-induced sleep by the feeling of the cold night air falling in through the open windows, and she slowly and carefully pulled the cover from her face, just to breathe it in. She could feel the salty remnants of tears on her face, and as she let her fingertips trace them she remembered their cause.

'I am truly alone,' she thought to herself as she let her hand fall. She took out the phone from below her ribcage, and stared at the black screen. She could see a muddled reflection of her own face, a shadow with those strangely glowing eyes. She accepted herself then, as she was now. She thought of Damascus, and all the destruction, and with tears in her eyes she accepted for the first time, that it was lost. Even if she could go back, it would never be the same.

She turned off the phone, and sat up, looking for her bag.

'Shit,' she thought. She had left it on the horse. She rubbed the salt from her face, and took staggering steps towards the door. She stopped with her hand on the handle. It was old, just like the door to her room in Mithlond, worn from centuries of use. She opened the door, and in a pool of moonlight she found Melmeleth, sitting on the floor of the hallway, her large eyes on Yara.

Melmeleth had heard Yara move inside the room, but she only looked up once the door had opened. She hadn't dared hope, and yet here Wilwarin was, bloodshot eyes blinking hopelessly as she stood frozen in the doorway. Melmeleth felt a surge in her chest, a desperate need to rush up and hold the woman in front of her, but she knew she couldn't.

"Elu," Yara whispered, her eyes trailing down the empty hallway.

Melmeleth held up the bag with Yara's things, and Yara took it. She turned to go back into her room, but with her hand on the handle she looked over her shoulder at Melmeleth, who had just stood up.

"Can I come in?" Melmeleth asked.

Yara stared for a while, and then returned to the bed. She plopped the phone in the bag and the bag on the floor, and curled up again. She heard Melmeleth tentatively follow her into the room, but her eyes remained staring at the leaves on the floor.

"Yara."

She reluctantly looked up. Melmeleth said something in that musical language, and waved her arms at the bed. Yara frowned. Melmeleth bent down and shook the cover a little, signed a square, put her hands under her head. Yara shrugged. She really didn't care either way, after having slept on the ground for the last two weeks or so. She just wanted to be alone.

Melmeleth sighed, in compassion, not frustration, and with a pitying look in her eyes she left. She would speak to Lord Elrond, and she would get Wilwarin some damned sheets, whether she wanted them or not.


Melmeleth was standing outside Elrond's study, steadying her breathing. She had hoped so that her charge would be happy in Imladris, and since their encounter with Gildor's company her expectations had grown in time with Yara's happiness. Her disappointment was coloured by shame at having hoped, and fear that she had let down Círdan.

"Come in."

Melmeleth rolled her eyes. Was he always listening for footsteps in the hall outside? His work must be very boring, if he couldn't concentrate. She pushed open the door and stepped inside the warm firelight.

"My lord Elrond," she greeted with a bow. Elrond gestured to a seat, and as she sat down she felt the weight of his wisdom hone in on her. Círdan might be the older one, she thought, but Elrond certainly plays the part of ancient wisdom.

"Tell me, now," he said, "of Yara Iscalassiel. Galdor said only that she drifted ashore about six weeks ago."

"She came in a leaf," Melmeleth began, her voice brittle and her eyes on the mess of papers littering Elrond's desk. "I was there on the night, but Círdan was the one who saw it drift in. We were gathered on the balcony overlooking the harbour when the tide came in, and he left us. It is not unusual for him to go wander by the water, but we saw him crouch down by a shadow, and then he waved for us to come.

"She was lying inside of the crumpled brown leaf, a great leaf from Ivon's gardens I thought it, and I told Círdan as much, while they carried Yara inside. She was asleep you see, eyes closed. She was dressed in black, head to toe, and yet she shone…"

Elrond waited patiently for Melmeleth to continue, and she did, with some effort.

"Círdan says she has seen the trees. She certainly has their light in her eyes, but why then can she not say a word of it? Galdor told me on that first night that he thought her some kind of warrior, returned to us like Glorfindel - but he came prepared, even eager, from what I know. Yara is neither. She frightened and alone, always on the edge of fading, I fear. If she was so close to death, why would she be sent back?

"All these questions bother me not so much as her suffering, I confess. I have come to care for her greatly. I wish, nay, I am certain, that she could learn Quenya quickly if she only wished it. I thought her beginning to open up, as we came closer to Imladris, and then this." The last word came with a great sigh, and Melmeleth's eyes lifted to meet Elrond's intense gaze. His brow was furrowed.

"Quenya? Why the old tongue, when it is hardly used anymore?"

"It was something Círdan decided," Melmeleth answered. "He did say we could try and teach her any words as long as she was willing, but he only attempted Quenya, from their first conversation. He tried to teach her, sat with her often, but she does not read tengwar, and she did not want to learn. Yet, on our journey, I too found that Quenya seems to come easier to her, makes her listen."

"Then Quenya we continue to use, in her presence," Elrond said with a determined nod. "How is she now? I take it she left her bed, since you are here?"

"Yes, my lord," Melmeleth confirmed, "although she did not go far. She was only looking for her bag, and when I gave it to her she returned to her rest. I offered her sheets, but she did not seem to care either way, or she did not understand."

Elrond remained silent, and Melmeleth felt suddenly a little out of place.

"I should like to get her sheets, if I can," she added tentatively, and Elrond came to life.

"Yes," he answered, "sheets, and all other comforts. Perhaps, once available, she might take them, but we must not force her. I will have all brought to her room."

Melmeleth smiled.

"And yours," Elrond added, his countenance more paternal. "You too must rest and replenish yourself after the journey."

"I would not like to leave her," Melmeleth said, and a slight blush came to her cheeks. She had not intended to voice her protectiveness.

"She will be well taken care of," Elrond assured her, and rose from his seat. Melmeleth followed him to the door, and allowed him to lead her to her room in silence. She felt the need for rest, now that she had begun to relax, but as Elrond turned to leave her she mustered her last strength.

"My lord," she called after him, and he turned with raised eyebrow. "I am sure Galdor said as much, but please, do not attempt take the glowing stone from her. It will do no good."

Elrond gave her a nod, and Melmeleth went to rest.


When sheets and food and drink, bath and towels, a pile of clean clothes, lights and pillows were arranged in her room Yara remained sitting by the open window, staring out. It was certainly a more generous array of comforts than she had been offered in Mithlond, but still it didn't entice her much. She wished they would leave her be, but she had no mind to argue, and so she dejectedly took in her new surroundings. There was a road below, of sorts, paved with stone, and a big house opposite. It had no windows, but large arches and pillars casting shadows on the street, lit from behind by some warm fire. Occasionally the shadows of people moved across, but she saw no one, and heard no sound except the distant water. All seemed quiet and restful, and she was thankful for that, at least.

Once the door closed behind the last of the attendants she slowly turned, and it seemed to her a completely different room, then. The bed was made with a mound of pillows and shining white sheets, glowing in the light from the candelabra, and she could see steam rising from the small wooden bathtub set out for her. A screen waited for her to unfold it, painted with beautiful flowers. They reminded her of Damascus, with their colour and rolling tendrils. She gave in, and soaked herself in the bath, rubbing off the dust of the journey, and some of the anxiety with it. She ate fruit from the side of the bath as she lay there in the warmth, and as she sipped the warm tea she even managed a small smile. Imladris wasn't so bad, after all.


A/N: I've been thinking a bit about the formatting/paragraphs lately. Would love some input on whether or not it's easy to follow the POV-shifts and whether or not the dialogue appears to thick without the line breaks. As always, thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy following Yara's journey :)