This is a translation of part #9 of one of my longest finished German fanfiction series. I am not a native speaker and apologize for any mistakes. The "Tales Untold"-series focuses much on Aragorn, Legolas and their respective relationships, but there's lots of other important plot lines coming into play, one of the biggest revolving around Glorfindel and Erestor.
The series combines the book verse with some circumstances from the movieverse, it ignores all three of the Hobbit movies though (I wrote most of this series before those movies even were a thing). It's slightly non-compliant in places but I'm always trying to keep close to canon.
"Take the rain away" is set in the spring of T.A. 3020, about a year after the War of the Ring.
Comments are more than welcome. I'm thirsting for them like so many others.
WHAT HAPPENED SO FAR:
Shortly before the fall of Gondolin learned that the she-elf he'd got married to not too long ago was pregnant. Plagued by visions and fearing for her life, he sent her away together with his newborn son Thondrar to keep them safe. A few millennia later, Glorfindel's wife died in an attack in their exile, and Thondrar sought out Imladris, reluctantly, because he blamed Glorfindel for his mother's death. As Glorfindel didn't want his son to live in his shadow, they told only very few people about being related.
After the War of the Ring, Legolas married a young healer elf from Lórien named Tarisilya that he had - secretly, for political reasons - been in love with for a thousand years. After the Battle of the Black Gate, Aragorn healed both Tarisilya from almost withering away and Arwen from a bad injury that has likely left her infertile. They traveled to Imladris so that Arwen's family could try to further heal her. Tarisilya became pregnant after the wedding but lost the baby in a battle in Rohan.
In Aragorn's absence, a group of enemies named Stewardaides - under the leadership of a former friend of Faramir - formed in Gondor who rather want to see Faramir rule Gondor. After Aragorn was crowned King, they kidnapped and tortured Arwen before Aragorn and Legolas could free her.
Erestor and Glorfindel meanwhile had been trying for a while to deal with the realization that there's far more than physical attraction between them. Erestor had been meant to join Glorfindel in Imladris' army after the war, but upon learning about the Stewardaides, Elrond sent Erestor to Minas Tirith to help Aragorn solve this crisis.
A few months after Aragorn's coronation, the Stewardaides attacked the elf settlement in Ithilien that Legolas had built together with a group of his people. Getting separated from the others, Legolas had had to be saved from a warg by Tarisilya and Legolas' second-in-command, Thondrar, who got injured by the warg so badly that his right arm became permanently paralyzed. The rest of the elves were taken prisoner by one group of the Stewardaides while another attacked Aragorn and Arwen. Aragorn was almost killed by a poisonous blade and could only barely be healed by Tarisilya. In North Ithilien, the Stewardaides pretended towards Faramir to set free the elves but chased them into the Dead Marshes. One elf died in the Marshes, three more were taken prisoner and killed in Mordor by the remaining orcs there. Enraged, Legolas demanded of Aragorn that the Stewardaides taken prisoner should be killed which Aragorn denied. After a terrible argument with Aragorn, Legolas swore revenge for his fallen subjects in a public ceremony which forced Aragorn to banish him from Minas Tirith. Erestor meanwhile left for Ithilien for his own, presumably to hunt down the Stewardaides. Hearing about all this, Elrond sent Glorfindel to Minas Tirith to help solve the crisis. Their secret now out in the open, Glorfindel gave Thondrar new courage to live and to fight, and together, they left Minas Tirith to try and make Legolas in North Ithilien see reason.
'The streets of Minas Tirith are no longer safe.'
How long had it been since someone in the city had first spoken that warning? It must have been shortly after the war when the first writings of the enemies of the future King had been distributed in secret. When Aragorn and his friends had then returned from their necessary but lengthy trip to the west, they'd been told immediately that something evil and devious had been happening in Gondor's capital during their absence, but it had already been too late. Between the white walls that had been standing for the beauty and the freedom of this realm for so long, that had even survived Sauron's attack almost unscathed, something had already had risen at that point that no one could have expected so shortly after the war: It was the citizens themselves who were becoming a danger for their new life in peace.
Many days had passed since then with following tracks leading to nothing, with the royal family defending themselves and fighting the loyalists of the Steward openly. Now many of the rebels were behind bars in the city's prison. That didn't make you feel any safer though. The knowledge weighed too heavily on everybody's mind that far too many of these people were still being free and gathering new supporters around them.
That kind of mood didn't allow for cheerfulness after a long time of suffering in the battles. Most people left their houses only for work. Civilians ducked their heads whenever a soldier was riding by as if their presence alone was finding them guilty of something. Visitors from outside were rare; the inns stayed mostly empty. People were fearing the watchful eyes and ears of the King's House too much, and possibly being seen with the wrong people and being accused of betrayal.
But it wasn't just the guards whose job it actually was to protect people, who were being feared. People were also secretly talking about a threat by a folk they'd been living in peace with for half an eternity. It was no secret that the Stewardaides had murdered several elves from a settlement in North Ithilien, and neither were the tidings about their leader's unbridled anger. There was more than one voice demanding that the colony at Cair Andros should preventively be emptied, that the inhabitants should be chased from this area before they could take a stand against the whole city. Others however demanded the very revenge on the imprisoned Stewardaides that the elves wanted, even if it was just to calm down a group of beings whose fighting strength was legendary.
The Stewardaides had caused a lot more damage than four Firstborn being torn from their lives. The gap between Elves and Men felt unbridgeable once more.
Tarisilya knew all of that only too well, and still, she had decided to stay in Minas Tirith for the moment instead of finally joining her people at Cair Andros. After all, it had been her who had saved the King after the Stewardaides had attacked in the Citadel, and it had been her husband, swearing to take revenge for the death of his four inferiors. Her role as the last link was crucial.
Sure, every suspicious look from strangers in the streets was hurting her; she was even being avoided at the court more and more. And the whispers that elvish ears could easily catch were frequently expressing rejection, sometimes even open scorn. But if she had left now as well, the last tangible memory of an once unshakable friendship …
Thanks to their inherent high emotionality, Men quickly lost control of themselves, especially when they had indeed good reason to worry. It wasn't impossible that some of the people would unite if they felt, the danger in North Ithilien was too big, and that they would do something against it.
That scenario frightened Tarisilya much more than a few unfriendly words. It made it hard to keep on doing her job as an Elf Consultant in the Houses of Healing, or to smile nicely when she was walking the courtyard although she was suffering from every bad word aimed at her husband or herself, and although people were often staring at her as if she was the reincarnation of Morgoth. After all, she could have been a spy for the other elves.
It was but a few friendships that ran all the deeper that kept her from packing her things. Since most elves she had been close to had left her old home Lórien to go west, the loneliness that already haunted her since her father and her twin brother had left Middle-earth had become even worse. In Aragorn and his elvish betrothed, her old friend Arwen, she had found people that she felt were accepting her, that she trusted.
While Tarisilya was yearning for her husband … Bitter as it was, that was something she was really being used to. As long as Legolas himself didn't seem to know if and how he should really take his vengeance, all she could do was taking care of the fragile secret inside her body, that was like a small light in all this darkness, in the city's protection, no matter how frail that seemed to her on some days. Fear for that unborn life had Tarisilya startle from nightmares about her first failed pregnancy almost every night and kept her effectively from asking too much of herself at work.
The other healers didn't know anything about her condition yet. By now, they did know Tarisilya's erratic moods well enough though to respect that the Princess of Eryn Lasgalen was not to be disturbed once she had retired, except for utter emergencies.
Which was why Tarisilya had already suspected that something bad must have happened when Ioreth had stormed into her room in the Houses of Healing tonight without knocking, a room that Tarisilya had already been preferring to stay the night in for quite some time, rather than going to her luxurious chambers in the King's guesthouse. There at least, she didn't have to put up with gossip around every corner.
Tarisilya hadn't been too happy about leaving the sixth level when Ioreth had told her that a house had burnt down on the fourth. There were good reasons for Aragorn lecturing her regularly about never going out without a soldier. Calling a guard from the Citadel first would have taken time though that she hadn't had. And a short sprint hadn't required a detour to the stables first either. Every second had counted. Most inhabitants had already been brought to the Houses of Healing, but one patient had been too badly injured for the transport. So Tarisilya had run there with her bag of healing utensils over her shoulder, with hardly anything more than a nightgown and a long cloak wrapped around her body. Part of her – the part that had already treated many burns and that had lost many patients to them, among them, recently, a child – had already foreseen that it would be futile though.
And she had been right once more.
As she made her way back, the images of this young woman who had just died under her hands still tortured her mind.
The girl must once have been very pretty and she'd surely still had her whole life in front of her. Now her family would have to bury a body disfigured by terrible burns.
Sometimes even elvish healing powers couldn't make a difference, especially not those of someone who had had to live with their gift being diminished for a while now, due to murdering another being. Losing patients always hurt but that night also reminded Tarisilya a little too much of that very little boy who had fallen victim to a Stewardaid attack last year. Tarisilya called herself paranoid, but she couldn't shake the question if that new disaster had been a crime too. Sure, Men were often being careless; a candle knocked over could have been just as easily responsible, the wood of that house's walls had been very old …
Tarisilya stopped in the shadow of a building entrance with a sigh. She didn't want to look that distraught when the other healers would see her again. There would be too many hurtful, questioning glances as it was.
A quiet meow and the sensation of something soft grazing her shin drew a smile from her. "Is there any way to get rid of you?" When the sister of said dead boy had recently decided to give Tarisilya a kitten to thank her for her efforts, first, she had hoped that she would soon be able to pass the animal on to someone else. She had actually never had a thing for pets, except for the many horses that she had been close to in the course of the centuries.
But Conuiril as she had called the animal had still been so young when they had first met that she had instinctively imprinted on the being that had provided her with milk and a lot of caresses. She saw Tarisilya as her surrogate mother and did hardly leave her out of sight anymore, already wailing bitterly when she didn't know where the she-elf was. It was easier to keep toddlers at lunch quiet than to try and part from that cat again.
"Come on, girl. It's too late and too dark for us out here." Tarisilya waved at the animal so that it would follow her. Conuiril only let anyone pick her up on principle if it had been her own idea.
Tarisilya realized only belatedly that the quiet hiss that was the answer was not aimed at her. Conuiril sat by a dark back alley, complaining about something. There was probably some stray dog there that had more reason to be afraid seeing this screeching white beast than Conuiril did.
"Come on now!" Tarisilya hurried on impatiently, hoping that the cat would just follow her as it usually always did. She had to get to the other victims of the fire as quickly as possible.
But it was something else suddenly coming at her from behind in a flash, shoving her face-first into the next best wall. If she hadn't hit a hollow where some rocks had fallen out, her nose would probably have been broken immediately. It was a soldier's armguard that was being wrapped around her throat, choking her before she had even gasped for air. And it was the massive chest plate of the typical dark grey uniform of Faramir's men painfully pressing against her back. Her hand was being yanked up before she could even think of drawing the dagger that Legolas had given her for exactly a moment like this.
Ice-cold fear seized Tarisilya. How could she have been so careless? She had known, there were still Stewardaides around, hadn't she? There was no one else who would wear such armor; none of Faramir's people had a reason to assault her. Her thoughts were spinning; she fought back in vain although, in terms of strength, she should actually be at least equal to a man …
She paused.
Panic, especially about something possibly repeating itself in a minute that already had almost destroyed Legolas' and her life in Rohan, had paralyzed every clear thought for a moment.
Only now, Tarisilya noticed that the body pressing her against the cold rock wasn't strongly built like a soldier's. The wrist of that arm around her throat was delicate, almost sickly thin, at least for a man. And no man could ever have approached her so secretly.
With some effort, she turned her head aside and stared in an almost snow-white face, half-covered by a hood, that she recognized immediately.
Erestor.
He still didn't give her enough air to talk but seemed to be able to read in her extremely disconcerted face that she knew who was standing there behind her. A mirthless smile curled on his lips while there was nothing but deepest sadness in his dark eyes. At least that was familiar though she had no idea what else had suddenly gotten into him. He definitely wouldn't have come out of his self-chosen exile in North Ithilien where he was hunting Stewardaides just to enforce a close combat simulation on her out of thin air, which was the only thing she could imagine him being up to, given the nature of their former acquaintance in Imladris.
Without a warning, he forced her legs apart with his so harshly that the tight skirt of her dress didn't allow any further movement and a choked cry escaped Tarisilya's lips. What by the stars what was wrong with him?
Erestor was notoriously eccentric, arrogant, and sometimes slightly ignorant, but he definitely wasn't a criminal. Had the last arguments between the two of them and the many months of loneliness that he had committed to, without any order, changed something in him so much? Or was this maybe still happening because of Tarisilya's rejection so many centuries ago?
Tarisilya refused to believe that. She tried almost violently to keep calm and stopped struggling. Erestor must have a reason for what he was doing. He wouldn't seriously hurt her …
Her reward was a hard bite to the tip of her ear that had her scream out again as loud as she could with what little air was in her chest. The sound of her laborious breathing almost had her miss a whisper only perceptible for elvish senses that followed the attack, breathed so close to her ear that to a possible audience, it must look as if Erestor was continuing the little torment there.
"We're being watched. I'm always being watched, I have been for months, and so have you. So stop pretending, or we'll have a really big problem in a minute. There's no need for you to act as if you're not disgusted by me touching you. They wouldn't buy that; that's the whole reason they sent me to you."
It was extremely ridiculous, but for a moment she'd almost have felt bad for him attacking her.
So she was right, he was being forced to do this … Not that this made anything better, regardless of what his status with the King's enemies might suddenly be. She started to try and push him away again immediately – and certainly not because he had ordered her to. "What is this? Let go of me, damnit!"
"Shut up or I'll make you." The way he was snapping at her again now made sure that whoever that was standing close to them – Tarisilya thought to be seeing a shadow in another house entrance from the corner of her eyes –, they would be able to hear it again.
A rasping noise, first from the coarse cotton of her cloak, then from the delicate, precious silk giving in to too much pressure, tore the night's silence. Then cool winter air hit Tarisilya's bare back, making her shiver for more than one reason.
"Tell the King, if he should actually dare to marry that whore, this is how he'll find her in his bedroom the next morning. Only we won't be leaving her alive."
The pain when Erestor yanked her backward and then pushed her against the wall again, took even more of Tarisilya's breath away. Although he managed to slip his arm between her and the stones protectively in the last moment, she could feel something in her chest give in, because apparently, in spite of his oh so noble intentions to go easy on her, Erestor had not entered the impact and the rigidity of a mannish uniform into the equation. He also failed to shove her straight into that gap in the wall this time; blood streamed down her cheek, growing dizziness blocked her mind from feeling anything but the cruel fear for her child.
Suddenly she didn't care at all anymore why Erestor was doing this. No intention could be good enough to justify this. After he'd left Minas Tirith, she'd actually thought she could forgive him his mistakes from the past. Now her hate for him went off the charts once more. She had always known …
With how the world was starting to spin around her more and more, she didn't even really realize that her dress was being torn open another few inches, or how Erestor was pressing his hips against hers demonstratively for their spectator. Not even that mattered. Her thoughts were with her baby.
Only when something was being slipped into the chest pocket of her cloak, she lowered her head, dazed. A piece of parchment. If Erestor kept this up, there would soon not be much left of her that could still deliver any kind of message to anyone.
"Do not lose that, or all of this has been for nothing." Again, there was that hiss in her ear while Erestor slid his narrow hands down her chest to humiliate her even further. That was at least what it must look like to anyone else, but Tarisilya easily felt him pause at her side which was burning like fire, to check if something had just broken in there – a pain similar to the one she could read in his piercing dark eyes when she looked back at him again.
"Why are you doing this?"
"If I didn't, you would long be dead, and Gondor would have drowned in chaos without its King." Erestor kept his hand right where it was in order to protect at least this spot from touching the hard surface, and from the feigned movements of his body that did at least no longer come too close to hers now.
"This should all long have been over, since the turn of the year already. Now I have to finish this, or no one will be there to protect Aragorn, Arwen and you from them anymore."
… since the turn of the year …
Loathing joined that other blazing emotion in Tarisilya's soul. Completely bewildered, she eyed Erestor's haggard face right next to hers. "Are you their man in the Citadel?"
That would have made sense. There had been no suspicious incidents there anymore since Erestor's disappearance.
But it was impossible for Tarisilya to accept that an elf of all people wanted to cause a catastrophe on Middle-earth in this Age – or that they were capable of killing their own people. Still, she had to make sure.
"Tell me it wasn't you who poisoned the soldiers and the King!"
"I only gave the Stewardaides the sleeping draught, and I had the antidote on me the whole time," he objected immediately. "The stuff that they actually wanted to give the guards, none of them would ever have woken up from anymore. But they changed the timetable then without my knowledge, which is why all of this could even happen. And the man who spread the draught does still have unhindered access to the King's House. He can show up with a drawn weapon in His Majesty's bedroom anytime. I don't know who he is or what they're waiting for at this point. And until I'll find out, I can't stop. I will protect the King and you as is my duty."
If it hadn't hurt so much right now, Tarisilya would have laughed cynically. Being anywhere near to this blinded bastard had never been so unbearable. He should better not show up at her door ever again henceforth if he didn't want a dagger sticking out of his throat. "By becoming a traitor?"
"I wanted these bastards arrested before they can do any more harm. I could only do that by myself. I told you: I've been followed ever since I arrived in Minas Tirith back then." Quiet despair sounded in Erestor's voice when he understood that nothing about his deeds was comprehendible. "I never hurt anyone."
Her anger gave Tarisilya enough strength to bring her elbow back and down, hitting a spot below Erestor's chest plate so hard that he backed away, more in surprise than from pain that he had never been able to feel much of anyway.
The moment no one was holding her anymore, she collapsed, with a quiet moan. "Do you actually believe what you're saying?" By now, she'd stopped caring if someone was listening, if Erestor would be able to keep his cover, if she would maybe be attacked by that other Stewardaid in a second. It was because of this mad elf that she might lose a child for a second time, why be considerate of him? "Tell that to our four friends who have been robbed of their lives because of your people!"
"Many more will die soon," was the sober answer, surely meant primarily for the man nearby again, and yet, Tarisilya was being closer to Erestor than him and could see the guilt shine on his face that he was carrying with him, that needed no reminder about the fate of these elves on top of it. "Better make sure you're not one of them."
Erestor melted back into the shadows of the buildings as quickly as he had shown up.
When Tarisilya woke up, she needed a few long seconds to recognize the room she was being in as one located in the very same Houses that she was usually treating patients in, instead of having to lay in a bed here herself. A bad dream had made her startle up, and too quick breathing which was hurting the side of her chest. It was one of the moments when she wished for nothing more than for someone to lay next to her and take her in his arms. But nobody was there. It had been many long weeks since her husband had left her alone while they'd been at conflict because she had neglected to tell him about a meaningless incident with Erestor of the past.
Only it had not been meaningless at all, at least it hadn't been for Erestor back then, or she would hardly be here right now, startling with every breath while her healer instincts already started to set in, her own analytic mind trying to sense everything that was wrong with her, no matter how afraid she was of the result. Bruises, the worst of them a bruised rib, contusions, abrasions, …
None of that mattered. In her current condition, it was the shock that was most dangerous; it still had her shake, even now, and made her hand wander to her lower belly. The child …
"Don't, everything is alright." With her senses still numb she hadn't realized immediately that she wasn't alone. Only now when Arwen approached the bed, Tarisilya cast her eyes pleadingly at her friend. Sitting down by her bedside, Arwen gently put her hand on Tarisilya's. "Nothing happened to the child. Don't worry."
A few first tears were glistening on her cheeks, because now Tarisilya was just feeling it even more how much she was really missing Legolas right now, especially on a morning like this.
He should have been here now to tell her that nothing would happen to her baby. That he would take care of both of them … But Legolas didn't even know yet that he was hopefully going to be a father soon. Tarisilya had not found the courage to write to him yet.
The image of Erestor's whitish face in her head was mixed with these sad considerations again, just like the echo of his whispers in her ear. How much time exactly had passed? When had she even lost consciousness? Everything happening after Erestor's last threat was somehow a blur in her memory.
"It thanks to Fain that we found you," Arwen explained, with a proud smile curling on her full lips for a moment. Her eyes turned to the yard outside where there was, without a doubt, her loyal wild dog sitting and waiting for her.
"It seems, he had smelled your cat and wanted to run after her. As the Citadel gate is always closed at night as you know, he couldn't leave but was sitting there for half an eternity, howling and clawing at the marble slabs. At some point, the guards were so anxious that they went on another patrol. That's when they found you laying in a dark alley on the fifth level. What in the world happened, Ilya?"
Tarisilya didn't answer right away. Her friend had reminded her that her cat had been with her when this mad elf had shown up. Worried about that helpless creature that she hadn't even wanted just a few weeks ago, she took a look around, frowning. "Wait … Where is Conuiril anyway?"
"That beast will so stay outside!" Ioreth remarked commandingly from the side, with her hands on her hips. "All you need right now is rest, Your Highness! You have to take it easy! Why didn't you tell me about your condition? I would never have sent you out into the night unprotected! I would never have let you work so much …"
"That's why I didn't tell you." Tarisilya interrupted her with a weak smile. "I'm a healer myself, remember? I can guess quite well how much I can ask of myself. And especially given the dangers coming from the Stewardaides, this shall remain a secret for now. I understand that they had to inform you now, but I would welcome it if you kept it to yourself for the moment."
"Do you think me gabby?" the elderly healer asked, offended but knowing better than to wait for an answer.
She sat down by Tarisilya's bedside as well and helped her sit up with her gentle movements, supporting her so thoughtfully and lovingly that there was no doubt about how much she had learned to appreciate her in the last few months. "You'll never leave the house again without a guard ever, you hear me?"
"I better not leave this house again at all," Tarisilya replied slightly ironically.
"Would you please get Conuiril here? Her presence calms me, and the child likes her too."
There was a little pity in Ioreth's smile. In this stage of the pregnancy, such a clear conscience of course didn't exist yet. But on a morning as difficult as this, Tarisilya found the notion comforting anyway. The woman reluctantly left the room to fulfill her wish.
Tarisilya sighed a breath of relief. Of course, she hadn't asked that without any second thoughts at all.
"The matter we need to talk about is not for the ears of civilians. Where's my cloak from yesterday?"
"Is that what you're looking for?" Speaking up for the first time, Aragorn reached out the dirty, crumpled parchment to Tarisilya that Erestor had slipped her yesterday. "The handwriting, is that what I think it is?"
"I'm afraid so." Tarisilya shuddered when she remembered where she had seen these plain round letters for the first time, namely on the library shelves in Lord Elrond's palace. She'd wondered back then already that someone with such a big passion for art was supposed to have such a sober handwriting, and that surprise had only grown when she had got to know Erestor then.
"What does it say?" She was feeling too dizzy still and her head was hurting too much right now to try and decipher what Erestor had scribbled in hurry and much too small in Sindarin there.
"A name that no one can know, actually." Aragorn looked at Arwen for a moment, his lips a thin line. Having received some terrible news yet again had clearly left traces on the man who was usually appearing so neat since ascending to the throne. He had just thrown on one of his old Dúnadan cloaks and sloppily tied back his dark hair before coming here. The worries of the last few months and the lack of sleep were showing in thumb-sized circles under his eyes.
"It's a smith who's supposed to craft something for you, in secret so no one gets to see it. The message also includes a time long after midnight." Aragorn's grey eyes were filled with confusion. Again and again, he rolled his right shoulder, unconsciously, that had been badly injured at the Stewardaides' attack in January and still wasn't fully healed. He was usually feeling that pain when a grave problem was troubling him.
"What by the Valar is going on, Ilya? When did you start being in contact with Erestor again?"
"I didn't if you don't count him abusing me as an involuntary messenger. I would very much like to know what happened though." Tarisilya gratefully took the glass of water that Arwen handed her and satisfied the thirst burning in her throat first before she started to talk.
"I have no idea what's got into him, and I have seen him mess up a lot in the past," she said at last. "In fact, I have to wonder if there's anyone who actually really knows this elf."
"When I grew up in Imladris, he's been one of my teachers, too. I never had a serious problem with him. None of that makes any sense. The Stewardaides despise elves. Why would they be working with one of you?" Aragorn paced the room in agitation.
"These men would make a pact with orcs if it would help them reach their goal, mîl nín. For them, the end justifies every means. Besides, we know from Ryscfin that at least a few of them respect elves for their abilities. For them, Erestor is surely not more than a tool. As soon as they have what they hope his assistance will get them, they will push him away again … or try to kill him right away. One elf less to disturb their plans …" Arwen crossed her arms, shivering, remembering the Stewardaides' unscrupulousness that she had had to experience firsthand.
"That Erestor has helped them with the attack on you was probably an act of faith big enough for these people, Aragorn", Tarisilya growled. "That scene last night surely didn't hurt either. Erestor has a way with words, and he is used to not showing his true face to anyone if he doesn't want to. He could probably have made even Sauron believe that he wanted to storm Imladris single-handedly."
In spite of his own doubts, Aragorn didn't look entirely convinced. "I want to believe that he has good intentions, Ilya, because I don't want to mistrust anyone who's part of my second family. But that he's not even above attacking his own people alone shows me that something is severely wrong with him."
"Unfortunately, that is yesterday's news. And except for Glorfindel, there was never anyone who was so close to him that they could have tried to change anything about that," Arwen explained, visibly having a bad conscience. "In the last few decades, not even Glorfindel could really get to him anymore. He's told ada several times, but somehow, nothing ever came from that. This is the failure of all of Imladris."
"Possibly, but first and foremost, this was his decision. It's his responsibility, and in the end, he will have to answer for that. I don't think he even really sees what he's doing there. Recently, that seems to come in fashion with certain members of our kin, unfortunately." Tarisilya looked out of the window, to the north, grinding her teeth.
"I'm sure that they'll both soon realize how wrong they are, Ilya." Arwen squeezed her shoulder encouragingly. It comforted her. That argument that two of them had had because of Tarisilya's dangerous solo quest back then in the course of the attack on the Citadel, fortunately seemed to be forgotten for good by now.
"I will contact Imladris immediately. Ada needs to know what happened here. Other than that, we should keep completely quiet about this incident though, even towards North Ithilien. I think we can all agree on that. The situation is tense enough. Right now, they might not even believe us if we warn the elves there about one of their own. I can't risk another argument." Aragorn only took his leave once Tarisilya and Arwen had nodded, disheartened but without hesitation.
When he opened the door, he almost stumbled over the animal sitting in front of it, impatiently pawing the carpet with its still quite small claws. "Conuiril, by all …"
The cat marched through between his legs, passing him by with her tail held high, took a detour via Arwen's lap and jumped on the bed that was standing too high from the ground for her short paws still. Purring, she got comfortable on Tarisilya's belly.
"Your Highness, I just can't find her. I'm sure she's hanging about somewhere …" Ioreth's mood had audibly dropped when she returned, completely out of breath. A few of her thick grey strands of hair had come loose from her bun.
She paused when she saw the animal being with her patient. "Here I was running through the whole house, and this little bastard …"
"Please." Tarisilya raised her hand weakly, the other fondling Conuiril's head tenderly. "I don't think I can deal with even more irritated voices around me right now."
"Of course, Your Highness. You heard her, Lady Arwen. Leave the Princess alone please." Ioreth was already in her element again already, overly worried about her patients and like a hurricane, if someone was getting in her way of that. Within a few seconds, she had emptied the sick room.