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The Letters: 10
The nature of the threat weighted heavily on Elrond's mind throughout the night and into the meeting the next day, where it settled uncomfortably, rendering Erestor's voice distant as waves lapping an isolated shore.
"The seasonal allotment of the resources for our visitors has been over-reached by half. It's nothing critical insofar. However, due to the mild autumn we were unprepared for the swift and harsh coming of winter. We could redirect…."
There was a comforting familiarity in the room with a long mahogany table crowded by ink and documents that served as a place of many decisions, now unseen by him. Elrond's gaze travelled beyond a heavy tapestry into the courtyard where it wandered aimlessly until it stopped on an elleth's figure draped in muted greens who crossed the yard in the direction of the storage. Either driven by curiosity or some of her belongings were damaged and she wished to retrieve whatever survived, she headed there with a clear purpose, though she momentarily stopped to sightsee the frozen waterfalls climbing upwards through the snowed mountains. What did she think of the valley?
"Elladan and Elrohir have burned down the library."
"What?" Elrond snapped out of his musings at the mention of his sons and the disruption in Erestor's tone, changed from monotonous to waspish.
"I asked whether it would be a prudent measure to relocate the supplies from the outer granaries to the ones in the city," the councillor countered smoothly like he had never uttered the previous phrase.
"You never said anything about the granary," Elrond sensed an underlying trap.
Erestor sniffed critically at not being able to obtain proof that the Lord of Imladris hadn't been paying attention to a single word he said.
"Would it be all the same if I continued on with the report or retired to sing drunken dwarf limericks with Lindir?"
The statement was meant to shame Elrond into listening; however, the half-elf brushed aside the work and pushed his chair away from the table. "As important as your report is, these matters do not crucially depend on my judgement. Please oversee them with Melphomaen should you require assistance."
The councillor looked on in disquiet as Elrond glided out of the room. These hours were normally reserved for the formal meetings, a fact that remained unchanged in two hundred years. It was unlike Elrond to pass the work on to someone else, unimportant or not. Erestor rose to collect the papers. Half-idly than expecting to find anything of importance he glanced out the window. The corners of his mouth turned down in disapproval at the sight of Erulien. He was out of the room in search of the junior councillor when Elrond appeared in the courtyard as well, heading in the same direction.
The storage was a dark place with a few shutters running along the upper part of the wall that allowed just enough light to see by but not enough to work. That's why to help, a mild and scattered winter light was allowed to pour into the structure through the widely open doors flanked by the sentries who greeted Elrond as he went past them. Their acknowledgement alerted the elleth occupied in the heart of wreckage to his presence. The Lord of Imladris made way around the caravan to the wide gap where two sleighs used to stand. The men were helped with moving them to the carpenter to be fixed, leaving faint blade marks along the ground and scattered pages.
Judging by a neat pile composed of ripped pieces, this is what the elleth was collecting. She acknowledged Elornd by rising promptly but unhurriedly. Her hands were eased down and locked in front of her. It was not a defensive barrier, yet it indicated a formal distance. This wasn't how she stood next to him yesterday. What conduct on his part could have prompted this change? If the manner in itself was impeccable then why did it raise a protest within him?
"It's shame to find these books on the ground," Elrond told her mildly. Erulien shifted uncomfortably as he knelt and began to pick up the pages, in preference of finding out the truth in conversation. After a brief hesitation the elleth knelt by his side. Quietly occupied by the task, he discovered that she had a calming presence as they worked together. Once, Elrond intercepted a look directed his way, but he had a feeling that she scrutinised him uncaught as soon as he approached. Despite many questions about his presence, she never indulged to ask how she can serve him nor made an inquiry why he suddenly chose to help. The texts they were sorting were elven; some he identified as medical to be separated from the other pieces. The destruction of the books that were valuable enough to be taken along with a caravan that had room for a few possessions was a dire shame.
"I must apologize for the abrupt leave yesterday," Elrond ventured, deducing that this is when the distance was formed. "Sadly, I cannot endeavour to behave better in the future, given that obligations may call me away unexpectedly."
"My father used to behave in the same manner," she said without any resentment, yet with no claim that there was nothing to apologize for. "He was a part of King Thranduil's council. That is, we don't have the same council structure as Imladris because the King is the only one who holds the right to declare our policies. There are noble families responsible for the Mirkwood affairs who report to him and occasionally advice. My family was in charge of diplomacy with the Edain. The dealings with outsiders have never been easy for a land as closed off as ours, making it a highly demanding position. When I was an elfling, sometimes I greatly missed his absences from home. That was when mother taught me and my brother to support my father's obligations. Mostly, we simply rejoiced when he could be with us. The only short discord I can recall happened when my father missed a day of my brother coming to maturity. It was important to Taurel to have his father at his side. He was disappointed."
"You must believe that your father tried his best to be there for his son," said Elrond. Relief that Erulien treated his position with respect and understanding prompted him to be more engaging. "I have a vivid recollection of once travelling from Lothlorien without rest for seven days to reach Imladris on Arwen's tenth begetting day. Had I come late, she was too young to have understood why her father wouldn't have been home." The end of the journey caught him swaying in the saddle and shivering, soaked to the bone after three nights of rain. Arwen's arms wrapped around his neck, not minding the dripping cloak and hair, was a reward worth a much longer journey.
There was a subtle change in Erulien's disposition that prompted Elrond to break away from the pieces they've been focused on and look at the elleth. There was a faint smile that reached her eyes. The mention of his daughter filled them with gentleness. He continued to gather the pieces without thinking; the next one brought about a small tug. They've picked up the same page and held on to it with their fingertips nearly touching.
"We have far greater need of family than we realise," said Erulien, releasing the page slowly as it belonged in a pile closer to Elrond. "Elven families are often small and scattered in distant corners of Middle Earth. We believe we have all the time in the world to seek them out, while in truth one brief instance is enough to separate us forever. You are wise to have followed your heart to bring joy to your daughter."
The sentiment touched him deeply for the days when his daughter was little were the happiest of his life. Sharing those memories with Erulien did not feel intrusive. It must have been her skill as a healer to put others at ease. Still, he sensed more qualities in her that intrigued him like a delicate thread, invisible to the eyes that connects one soul to another. He had been provided with an explanation why he felt that she was similar to him. They both understood the importance of delicate balance in the family when one knew to treat loved one's weakness with fondness rather than judgement.
"Is your family distant?" Elrond ventured a personal question.
"They are," as she answered the gentleness faded away replaced by wistfulness. "The call of the sea grew strong in my mother's heart. My father refused to let her sail alone. Saying goodbye to them in Grey Havens, I felt no tug at my soul to follow them, if anything Mirkwood summoned me back. Sadly, I was the only one who returned. Taurel fell in love with an elleth who would not be called away from her home. By the sea they stayed. When the roads were safer, I travelled to their binding ceremony. I've discovered tranquility in my brother which I've never seen before."
The comforting gesture came involuntarily. As Erulien reached to tie together a stack of pages with a ribbon, Elrond's hand covered hers to assist and that's where it stayed. "Separation from family is never easy, even when we know it comes for the best." Too often had his loved ones stepped aboard the swan ships. Too often had he watched the white sails, like lost birds, turn into dots amongst the blueness of sea and the sky. When no one would see, the wind brushed away stray tears.
"I did not feel separation keenly at first for it too was my choice to part with my family," said Erulien. "My brother begged me to stay in Grey Havens. I could not. An apprenticeship in healing was so new, barely two years passed in training. I had the kindest teacher who healed the emptiness in my heart that appeared when my parents departed. He opened my mind to a new way of thinking that extended beyond the borders of elven culture, which even my father was incapable of. The passion present in every bit of his work was too contagious not to enjoy. I was too occupied by studies to be lost."
"You speak like it was in the past," Elrond pointed out gently.
"The loneliness crept up slowly while I was not expecting it. The roads grew too dangerous to travel to my brother, even the letters grew scarce. Some of my good friends have sailed or left for Lothlorien. I've realised the extent of this emptiness when my teacher was lost to the orcs. As much as I love my work, day by day afterwards it grew lacking. It felt sad, like I was observing an autumn flower as its petals were falling away one by one. One day a realisation came that the closest creature I have is a grey, little horse."
"Is this why you're heading to Grey Havens with the human caravan? Do you intend to sail?" It was a sad notion to be driven away from home out of loneliness.
"No, a joyous occasion called me away from Mirkwood," said Erulien with a smile returning once more. "The King's royal messenger is Tauren's old friend. He returned from a mission to Grey Havens at the end of the autumn. Aside from correspondence to the King, he also carried a letter from my brother as favour in which Tauren insisted that I must accept full responsibility for becoming an aunt. The desire to see my niece while she's still an elfling was so strong that I've made an instant decision to go. Waiting for the spring when the roads turn safer would have been an excuse to never uproot my life that would lead to more hesitation. It seems that I got what I've bargained for."
Cool air brushed his palm as she withdrew to put away the collected stack into one of the bag's pockets. The treatment of the fragments was most delicate like she was securing cherished possessions. No formal texts, even written by the wisest, could have been so valued. Those must have been the letters from her loved ones. Her loneliness must have been greater than she realized to have kept them and then brought on a dangerous journey.
"We can partially restore your letters," Elrond offered, taking heart in the idea that sprung to mind. "Purified resin based substance can be used to seal the fragments over a fresh page. Text restoration is a refined practice in Imladris."
"I would like that."
Few simple words surged with various emotions. A surprise that he would take her problem to heart and offer a solution, quickly turned to excitement over the prospect and raised her passion to meet this challenge. It mattered not that she had never done this task. Allowing unknown scribes to fix personal letters without her input would never work.
Above all else, one feeling convinced Elrond to oversee this task together with her, rather than handing it down to the library. The elleth's gratitude raised a surge of warmth within him that came only from providing a cherished memory to the ones he cared for.