This story is a sequel to 'The Cartographer from Greenwood' and 'The Cartographer's Return'. This story would take place a shortly before chapter 3 of WoE. I can see this being one of the reasons why Elrond decided to take a more active role.
His lungs hurt, his legs hurt, his heart hurt, each breath he took burned and yet, Soread ran, for it all was nothing compared to the agony that ripped him apart. His arms were moving besides his body, blood pumping through his veins and yet incapable to keep up with his body's demand for oxygen. Gasping, the wood elf refused to slow as he ran downhill, mud spraying underneath his footsteps. Rain fell from the clouds high above in a steady shower that would have seemed gentle had Soread not hated every second it cost him. The miles vanished beneath his steps and, his clothing soaked, his hair hanging in his face, all Soread could do was to continue running, biting back tears. The moment he stopped, he knew, he would not be able to go on.
He left the mountains behind and this time as he came upon the crossing, there was no hesitation in his step and he headed right, north, towards a safe valley nestled between steep hills for he was running to Imladris, Rivendell, the Hidden Valley, home to Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrian and their people. And as the pain tore through him, Soread ran.
It was just past midnight as he ran across a narrow bridge, having chosen the narrow pathway along the cliffside for he knew, despite the slippery the rain caused, it was both shorter and guaranteed him to not stopped along the way for it lead directly to the house of the Lord and Lady of Imladris. With reckless disregard he sprinted along the narrow edge where less than a century ago he had almost lost his life when he had slipped amidst a storm.
The wet sand of the courtyard hit his calves, each quick step tearing it from the ground. Soread crashed against the door and for just one second, he stopped, his face distorting in pain. He gritted his teeth and pushed the door open, slipping through. He did not halt to close the door, instead allowing it to fall shut for he was already sprinting up the stairs, having found the steps with ease despite the dark. Reaching the second floor, the cartographer, his maps in the two leather tubes upon his back with his twin knives, twin long knives attached to scabbards on his hip, rushed into the empty corridor, disregarding of the sleeping elves he might wake. Water dripping to the wood floor marked his path until he arrived at a door and came to an abrupt stop. He wheezed, gasping for air, bending over.
He had arrived. The pain in his heart clenched around the muscle and for one moment, Soread thought he had made it only to die here. He put his hand against his chest, biting his teeth as he collected his breath, walking up and down. Slowly, his body stopped screaming and the anguish of his soul roared up, no longer muted by exertion.
Soread gripped the two sides of the doorframe, bracing his weight between it. He bowed his head, hands clenching, a growl escaping his throat. He bit his teeth, crunching his eyes shut, the pain in his chest almost overpowering him. It burned like the hot edge of a sharp dagger, biting deep into his ribcage. Around him, the corridor lay empty and silent for it was deep in the night, all doors closed and the occupants of the chambers beyond safely tucked in their bed.
Soread turned his head, glancing towards the door just two doors down. The chambers he had been allotted; the chambers Lord Elrond had promised him would always be his to return to. He could just go there, pick the lock the gentle Lord had installed to keep others out of Soread's chambers and slink into the cold bedroom. But he couldn't. He shouldn't need to wake his gracious hosts, but he needed it. So much.
Once again, a growl gurgled in his chest, vibrating against his throat as he fought the tears, his fair face a grimace of pain. His hand opened from the door frame and he balled it to a fist. He started pounding. Again and again and again, each time the agony in his chest flaring. Waking up the gracious couple who had before given him refuge and safety and whom he had burdened with his problems so many times already.
A sob shook his frame and his fist remained against the hard wood, his body bracing against it. The pain was too much.
Noises from inside the chambers and hurried steps answered his desperate pounding. Soread pushed away from the door, trying to smooth his face, trying to not let his desperation show, to not let it seep from his eyes in waves that were so strong they were painful to look at. Wet eyes, reddened and burning, stared against the wood and then the door was thrown open, revealing Lord Elrond beyond, clad only in his nightclothes, his dark hair in disarray, sleep still lingering in the small lines of his elven face.
"M'Lord", Soread rasped, voice thick.
The elf Lord stared at him for just one second before he rushed forward. Strong hands reached for his waist to help him stand. "Soread! Are you injured?"
Behind the grand Lord, Lady Celebrian approached the door, her blond hair falling openly over her shoulders, she too clad for bed in a long white shirt and loose trousers. Kind blue eyes searched him, widening in shock, horror quickly overwritten by seriousness.
"Nay", Soread said, choking on the word. He took a step forward and embraced Lady Celebrian, clinging to her desperately, pulling her warm body against him, hands clenching in her shirt even as he burrowed his head against her shoulder, soft hair against his cheek, smelling of clean safety of soap. And he sobbed. His shoulders shook and he cried and the pain ripped him apart. His embrace was returned, warm and gentle, a hand slipping in the nape of his neck. And Soread screamed.
Elrond stood frozen, the scream echoing in the deepest corner of his soul as Soread clung to his wife. Celebrian cried, cradling the elf against her. Water dripped from the cartographer's clothes and had matted his hair, his body drenching Celebrian's thin shirt but she could not have minded less. She held the wood elf who screamed in pain and agony so heartbreaking, Elrond's throat constricted.
"Elrond", Celebrian caught his attention, gently swaying the taller elf. "He's fading."
Elrond felt as if he had received a fist to the chest, each breath painful as he sought to find the soft glimmer that surrounded each elf at a night as dark as this one, only to find that his wife was correct: There was none. The cartographer, whom he had come to appreciate so much as a friend, was fading.
Doors opened along the corridor, Soread's screams of despair ripping through even the deepest of elven dreams. Glorfindel rushed out, his sword in his hand, catching the glint of his own powerful fea, a stark contrast to the dark elf clinging to the Lady of Imladris.
"Glorfindel, I need hot water, children, athelas and gwethweed!" Elrond snapped, torn away from his shock. Elladan and Elrohir had stumbled out and they stared but then took off running, heading towards the stairs to obey their father. Glorfindel frowned, lowering his sword but he too took off.
Celebrian shivered slightly, her nightshirt drenched and clinging to her body without the elf in her arms even realising. She cried as she held him and felt as if though she had been thrown into the midst of a nightmare. The gentle, polite and oh so troubled elf sobbing. He was wearing armour, she noticed, not fabric and thin leather underneath her hands but the shards that covered his shoulders and chest made from sharp, painted metal. Under woodland green tunic, she felt the metal plates of a brigandine and the smooth hilt of one of two twin knives that pressed against her temple was dirtied, slick handprints left in what seemed to be dried blood and inchor. The last time she'd seen him, he had been a cartographer, troubled, yes, but hopeful in his own way. In the years that had passed, something had changed for him to wear the armour of a soldier once more, splattered by blood, even the leather tubes with maps on his back battered and bearing marks of fighting.
She felt Soread's knees buckle even as his screams evened out, the elf gasping for air in between sobs that wracked his entire frame.
"I've got you, Soread, I've got you", Celebrian whispered in his ear, arms tightening as she held the elf upright. She had no idea what had happened, had no words to repair a damage she did not even know to suspect.
"Soread?" Elrond had stepped closer, deep lines digging in his forehead, hand trembling as he brushed away silver strands from cold, slick skin.
They had jumped out of their bed when the noise had started, their step hastened by the incessant pounding but even the dread that had invaded their hearts at the sound had not prepared them for the sight that had greeted them. Soread. Oh Soread.
"I can't", the elf gasped in between breaths and Celebrian stiffened for in those two words lay so much more. "My Lady, I can't."
He was begging. Had come all the way to Imladris to embrace her and beg her, for something, anything to keep him going.
"You're not alone, Soread", she said, crying as she rubbed circles against his skin.
"You're not alone", Elrond echoed her words, tears wetting his cheeks as well now, glistening in the dark.
Soread pulled away, still trembling like a leaf caught in a winter storm. Eyes wide, face twisted into a grimace. He just looked at her and then at Elrond. Words left his mouth, sounding like sharp clicks and chirps, a tongue that sounded reminiscent of the elvish language Celebrian knew and yet so different. When the words failed him, Soread raised his hands and started gesturing, using a language developed deep in Mirkwood, where the darkness was so strong the elves dared not even speak as to not attract the attention of spiders and orcs, his hands flying through the air but their meaning lost on both of them.
Celebrian could not bear watch him, could not bear to see him trying to communicate only to fail so she stepped up to him, pulling him back into her arms. And he took her offer, burrowing his face against the crook of her shoulder once more, hands going back to fisting her shirt.
"Nana-nin", he managed after a while. "Nana-nin." Another scream followed and Celebrian swayed him.
"You're not alone, child", Elrond soothed, not able to make the empty promises that everything would be alright, not to an elf as honest as Soread. And so all he could speak was the truth and there was little to tell.
They stood in the cold corridor, the open doors along it and the light spilling from underneath others the only remainder that they were not the only elves in all of Arda. They stood and Soread cried and screamed and begged and spoke in strange tongues as he sobbed and cursed and plead. And all Elrond, the great healer and elven Lord, could do was to stand by his side and continue talking as to reassure the elf he was not alone with his pain.
Eventually, Soread tired further and his breathing eased with exhaustion. Yet still, the pain had not abated and his fea not brightened.
"My mother", Soread explained in an agonized whisper, "they tortured her. She's dead."
The words chilled Celebrian even more and she closed her eyes, her own sob shaking her shoulders. Soread's fists pressed against her back as he pulled her closer to his chest, his hard armour almost painful against her but she did not have the heart to push him away or even to ask him to loosen his grip
"I saw … I saw …", he cried and the chill turned to ice and now Celebrian clung to him as well, the thought alone that he had seen the tortured body of his nana too much to endure.
"They burned her. Beat her. Skinned her …" he broke off, screamed, a pained, agonized scream.
They tortured her to death. The words rang through Elrond's ears and his thoughts went to the vast, distant forest Soread hailed from. Home to King Thranduil and Crown Prince Alcanor, a place where he, Lord Elrond, was not welcome. The pain of Greenwood's people was one he could not help with since they hated him. Eranion had caused more damage when he had attacked Crown Prince Alcanor all those years ago than he could ever have imagined. How dark had the forest turned? Soread's mother had been tortured to death. Not just killed. Tortured to death. As a sport of evil creatures that hunted elves.
Elladan and Elrohir stumbled back, holding the herbs Elrond had requested, freshly cut from the herb gardens outside, earth still clinging to their hastily thrown on boots. Rain had wetted their own night clothes and they clung to their skin, only parts of it dry.
"I need you to leave", Elrond said, taking the herbs but sending his children away. Soread was younger than them, it hit him with realisation as he looked upon his sons. And as he glanced between them and the broken elf in Celebrian's arms, the horror of Greenwood's plight became even clear to him. His sons were safe, here, in Imladris. But young Soread was not. Soread's family was not. His sons' lives and Soread's could not be more different.
"Ada, we –" Elladan protested but Elrond cut him off.
"He does not people to gawk at him, Elladan", he hissed, anger bubbling in him. Shock widened his sons' eyes but he could not help it. The screams still rang in his ears and Soread did not need his curious sons watch him as he suffered. Anger was the only reaction he could have for there was nothing else he could do and the helplessness tore him apart.
"Yes, Ada, we'll go", Elrohir said, pulling his twin with him. They gave him a last nod and then headed back towards the stairs, past Lord Glorfindel who came holding a bit pot with hot water.
Glorfindel handed the pot over, glancing towards Soread and Celebrian. His brows were drawn together and he looked pained.
"If there's anything I can do, let me know", he said to Elrond, before, with one last look to Soread, he left.
"I can't", Soread whispered roughly, gasping for air as hiccups took a hold of him.
"Yes, you can, Soread", Celebrian said through her tears, brushing over the silver strands. "You're not alone. You may stay for as long as you want. Imladris is your home too. I've got you. You're not alone."
Soread pulled back, drying his cheeks even as hiccups wracked his shaking body. He met Celebrian's gaze and then his eyes dipped lower. Immediately, he lowered his head completely and the Lady of Imladris looked down on herself only to realise her wet nightshirt revealed more than it hid.
"Forgive me, my Lady. I … I did not …" Soread raised his hands and burrowed his face in them.
"It's just a shirt, Soread. Don't worry." She hated to leave but she slipped into their bedroom, needing less than half a minute to put on a fresh shirt, one that would not cling to her body as easily should Soread need another hug. The cartographer had not even noticed she had left, his face still hidden in his hands. Elrond met her gaze and then grasped the mapper's wrists, pulling his hands down and directing the elf inside, away from the cold corridor. Tired eyes met his and when Elrond pulled him into an embrace, Soread just mirrored his earlier position of burrowing his face in the crook of Elrond's neck as he fisted his shirt in trembling hands.
Celebrian added the cut herbs to the water, setting it on the small fire Elrond had built. Then she sat on the couch, organising the pillows and reaching for a blanket.
"Come here, Soread", she gestured for the elf once Elrond let go of him. The cartographer followed her gently order. He undid his belt and chest belt, the healer next to him taking both and putting it in a corner. The mapper did not take off his armour but sat next to her. Then he shifted, bringing his legs up and bedding his head on Celebrian's thigh.
Elrond spread a blanket over him and then settled in an arm chair. While Soread closed his eyes and promptly fell asleep, he kept watching the tired face with its deep lines. Hands slackened, the elf almost looked dead were it not for the slow raise and fall of his chest almost entirely hidden by his brigandine. Counting the seconds between each breath the younger elf took, the Noldo pressed his fingertips against each other and waited. No fea surrounded the mapper and his eyes did not open in elven dreams. It wasn't before Soread's breathing came more rapidly and his brows drew together ever so slightly. Elrond, having seen this before and having watched the elf for this same reaction, sat up.
"Wake him", he said.
Celebrian blinked. "He just fell asleep", she protested, protectively grasping the sleeping elf's arm.
"I know. But he's having a nightmare. Wake him. He should not have to endure the sight of his dead mother once more in his dreams."
Worry clenching her heart, Celebrian gently shook the sleeping elf.
"Wake up, Soread", she said, carding through his hair, raising him from his sleep.
The elf blinked, then took a gasping breath, muscles tightening as he pulled his arms closer to his chest.
"You're in Imladris", Elrond stalled any confusion, speaking in deep, gentle tones.
"Ai, my Lord", Soread rasped, closing his eyes once more. "I just want to sleep." He was crying once again, a headache bearing into his skull. The exhaustion was overpowering and yet, still the dreams had found and haunted him. Despite the Lady's reassuring presence, despite the lightness of this place and the limits of his elven body, the exhaustion was not enough to grant him a dreamless sleep.
"Soread, I'll make you tea. I'll be right back", Elrond explained. He bowed down and kissed the elf's hair, meeting Celebrian's gaze before he forced himself to turn his back on his chambers. It felt wrong to walk away, despite knowing what the young mapper needed was a tea to aid him sleep.
"I'll never get to see her again", Soread meanwhile realised, his words a whisper. He had straightened and was staring against a wall he was not seeing beyond his tears. "I'll never get to see my mother again. She'll never make spiced wine for me. Or scold me for getting ink everywhere. I … she was supposed to be there. She was supposed to be there!"
Another sob, another gasp. Celebrian pulled him back into her arms. Too exhausted to even continue crying, Soread clung to her, staring into nothing, listening to her heartbeat and her breathing and then she started singing, he closed his eyes, the eternal, beautiful music filling the chambers and his heart. Warmth seeped into his icy limbs and he tightened his hands around her arms.
Only when she stopped singing did he open his eyes and found Lord Elrond had returned, a steaming mug smelling of lavender, chamomile, thyme, bay leaves and juniper, a perfect blend. He reached for the mug and Celebrian leant forward to help him hold it. Barely tasting it, he threw the brew back, eager to welcome oblivion and to forget the images burned into his being and the mourning reminding him of all the things his nana had promised him they'd do and that they'd never get to do now. All those dreams he had, all those hopes, shattered and gone. She was supposed to be there, supposed to teach him the world he still often felt he did not understand, despite all experience he had gained on his own. She was supposed to be there.
When the elf went limb against her, Celebrian was relieved. His head bed on her lap once more, she tugged the blanket into place along his armoured frame and then she looked towards Elrond. Her husband looked like he had aged a millennium, face drawn and tired. No words crossed the silence she still filled with her soft song. Together they sat, hour upon hour and the light eventually returned to the land, turning the sky grey. Hunger crept up on them but neither had an appetite. At one point Glorfindel knocked against the door, bearing a tray with food but neither of them touched it. They just sat in silence and the house around them remained quiet. The elves who had woken during the night noticed their Lord and Lady's absence and interpreted it correctly, knowing they were in need for silence for their patient and friend.
Soread meanwhile finally slept, too deep for elven dreams to reach him, his soul aching in his chest but warmth slowly seeping through the many layers of anguish. Celebrian sang until her throat went dry and then Lord Elrond picked up, handing his wife a drink and their music enveloped the sleeping woodelf, reaching his ears and soothing him.
Soread slept for the entire day and into the night, not moving, not even a single finger twitching. However, when the darkness crept back into the rooms, his form was dim but not bare any light as it had been before.
"Have you slept well", Celebrian asked once the wood elf woke and sat up. He looked at her, leaning forward and embracing her again. Wordlessly, he squeezed her in silent thanks before he stood, not replying to her question.
"May I make use of one of your bathrooms? I'm afraid I came into your home soiled with orc blood and spider inchor." He smiled politely and had Elrond not seen him cling to Celebrian for hours as he screamed, he would have believed that smile despite the exhaustion in the mapper's face. Shocked, he wondered how often the elf had smiled without anyone realising the pain he felt in truth. How often he might have smiled in Imladris to hide his discomfort.
"Of course, mellon-nin. I'll have some food brought here for after your shower. Let me show you everything." He stood and led the cartographer to the ensuite bathroom, not consulting his wife for he knew she would insist on the mapper using it anyway. Elrond handed his guest a fresh towel and necessities and then left him.
Celebrian looked up when Soread came back out not even ten minutes later. His face was clean and he was finished replaiting his hair. With the mud and blood gone, he looked even paler, dark circles underneath his eyes.
He stopped in the middle of the room, bringing his hand towards his chest and bowing his head deeply and a simple gesture that was all the more powerful for his silence. He thanked her.
"Elrond will be right back with something to eat", Celebrian said, watching the elf pick up his weapons and leather tubes.
"I'm afraid I won't have time for that, my Lady, for I must not linger. Greenwood awaits my return. Already I have stayed for longer than I had intended."
"What? Soread, you just arrived. It's a several days journey from Greenwood to here."
"Hence my need to return swiftly. I have been gone for too long. I shouldn't have left for I have duties to uphold and yet, I could not bear the very air. I'm glad I came, my Lady, for once again you have aided me and I regret I have nothing but my thanks as a reward to you and your husband." He stopped in adjusting his chest belt. "I do not know the words to describe how thankful I am for what you did, my Lady."
"I didn't do anything, Soread."
"Yes, you did. You held me when I broke and I did not hate myself for it while you did. Forgive me, my Lady, but I must go now. Thank you for your time, thank you for the bath, thank you for the sleepless night I provided you with. Please, extend my thanks to your husband. I must go."
"Soread, wait!" Celebrian jumped to her feet, running after the elf. "You're exhausted and the way is far. You should not be alone. We'll gather some guards and cross the mountains with you. Just stay a few more days."
"I gave myself one day, my Lady. Just one day. Now I must return. I just must."
"We'll come with you, Soread", Celebrian decided then, knowing Elrond would agree. If they rode with him, the cartographer's path would already be safer. They could pass through Lothlorien on the way back.
A soft, sad smile tugged at his lips. "I shall travel paths no sane elf would travel, my Lady, for I should never have left. I just needed … I needed your support and I am beyond grateful to have received it so readily. I shall not stop nor linger and I will run through the night."
"We'll come with you", Celebrian insisted. There was no way she'd allow him to go on his own, not after she had held him for hours yesterday.
Soread sighed for he knew he was losing time. Already he had delayed for longer than he had intended and the journey back to Greenwood would indeed take several days even without slowing for rest or shelter. And he knew, neither Lord Elrond nor Lady Celebrian would allow him to push his body to dangerous limits and cross lands no elf should even step in in order to shorten his journey. His whole heart rejoiced in the kindness they gave so freely and he wished nothing more but to know them by his side and yet, he could not.
"I'll see you in the entrance hall in half an hour", he said, the lie bitter on his lips even as he smiled politely. He nearly cried when she nodded and the guilt bit deep.
"My Lady", he called after her. "Forgive me", he said, face contorting. And she came back and embraced him.
"There's nothing to forgive, Soread. I'll be right down and we can leave immediately. I won't force you to wait."
Celebrian hurried away, shedding her clothing the moment she stepped into her chamber and closed the door. She yelled for her husband as he stepped back into their chambers, already pulling out her hunting garb. Explaining the situation, she collected her gear, shaking a backpack open and pushing a blanket inside. Thankfully, Elrond was orderly and they had just come back from a hunting trip and all their equipment was cleaned and stowed away. Not even twenty minutes later, the couple raced down the stairs.
The entrance hall was empty. The door was closed and only one of Soread's battered leather tubes leant against the wood, a piece of parchment underneath it. Celebrian slowed, already fearing what the cartographer had done. She stepped up to it, picking it up.
I'm sorry I lied, she read. Thank you, for everything. Please, make good use of these maps for they might be the last by my hand. I hope I shall see you again, my Lady, my Lord. Until then, farewell. SD
Soread was gone. And they had no idea which path he had taken, except that it would not be one they would tread. He was gone. She turned to her husband, tears in her eyes. And they stepped up to each other and embraced each other, clinging to their significant other as they both mourned with their friend, knowing he now was on his own. He had come for one day, seeking comfort. And they could only hope they had been able to provide him with it.
Please review!
The Cartographer from Greenwood is the only piece of my writing my father ever read. He passed unexpectedly last year and while I wrote this, I was thinking of him. Writing Soread's grief helped with my own and I cried with him, remembering all the things I can no longer do with my father. He will never be a grandfather. He will never teach me use the table saw as he had promised. We'll never go to the one waterfall I had never been to before and where to he wanted to take me. I'll never come home only for him to have bought my favourite beverage, waiting for me in the fridge. I miss him so much. I expected to have a father for another 20-30 years and suddenly, he is just gone. Don't take your loved ones for granted and make sure they know they are loved.
Go hug a loved one. Keep safe, everyone.