Disclaimer is the same as in Chapter One.
See the end of this chapter for author's note.
On the Beach—Chapter Three: Sins of the Father
For the first time in more than a week Frodo stood on the beach without Enaiowen.
Already the setting seemed strange. Moments before he had faced down an elf more than
twice his size. Not one for confrontation, he already felt too drained to deal with another
one. He hoped that Glorfindel did not bring unpleasantness with him but by the somber
look upon his face he knew he was not a happy elf. Frodo braced himself for whatever
he had to say.
Glorfindel circled around the hobbit slowly surveying the view of the sea. "Frodo, it has
been many years since our paths have crossed and once again you hold my fate in your
hands." His tone was grave.
"I hold no one's fate but my own," he replied nervously.
"You misunderstand me," Glorfindel said, slightly startled. Only now did he meet his
gaze. Frodo saw at once that he seemed to be in pain. "I am in you debt. It is because of
you that I have discovered Guillyn's treachery. A change has come over her, subtle, but
enough to give me hope. In searching for this positive influence I instead discovered
what had cast such a shadow over her." He looked away again and focused on the
indentation Enaiowen had left in the sand. "I am horrified that I have allowed myself to
be deceived."
"She never spoke of it to you?" Frodo asked.
Glorfindel crouched down and traced the outline of his daughter's footprints with his
fingertips, so small, so delicate. His words sounded as if they came from far away. "He
had her believe his abuse was a necessary requirement of her instruction."
"How long had she endured this?" He was almost afraid to hear the answer.
The elf sighed deeply and brought his hand back to him. "Too long. He has damaged her
in a way that may be impossible to repair."
"He spoke as if he had the right to treat her maliciously," Frodo said. The venom in
Guillyn's voice was still fresh in his mind. "He said that she had killed her mother."
Glorfindel faced him again. "Elves do not die in childbirth, Frodo. Such a thing is
unprecedented among my people. A worse omen could not even be imagined for the
birth of a child. Many foretold that she would destroy us all." He paused as he gathered
his words from across distant memories. "Some, albeit a small minority, saw that she
was a necessary part of our salvation. All agreed that she was to be removed from
Middle Earth. She was placed in my care and I brought her here."
Placed in his care? A realization came to Frodo. "You're not her true father then," he
announced carefully.
The elf shook his head gravely. A gentle breeze came upon them suddenly and the air
distorted the gentle shapes in the sand. "I am her father by everything but blood. I love
her as my own. Guillyn's mistreatment of her wounds me deeply. She may find ways to
heal from his abuse more readily than I will for allowing it to happen."
They remained in silence for a long while. Glorfindel finally sat in the sand, folding his
long legs in front of him. "Enaiowen can never return to Middle Earth," he said
suddenly. "That is the one thing everyone agreed upon. Her fate is sealed there. For her
to return would mean to lose her forever."
"How is that?" Frodo asked.
"She will lose her heart there," he spoke. The words seemed to come directly from a
cryptically written fortune. Frodo thought immediately of Arwen. Was such a fortune
told at her birth? If her father had known, would he have tried to prevent it? Glorfindel
was determined to rewrite Enaiowen's future. "Whether it is for good or ill, I will not
resign her to the fate. Her destiny will lie elsewhere. There is another land that the Valar
keep watch over. When she comes of age she will be sent as a warden much as the Maiar
were sent to Middle Earth. Her life is devoted to preparing her for this duty. Only now I
am without a teacher." He looked to the hobbit intently. "That is what I wish to discuss
with you."
"Me?" Frodo said with surprise.
The elf looked at him in earnest. "I need someone I can trust to be her teacher. Gandalf
suggested you."
The hobbit was aghast. Gandalf had obviously been working in the background of his
life with the mischief of a meddling in-law. "Why would Gandalf put me forth? I know
of nothing that I could teach an elf."
"Materials will be provided. You will have everything you need," Glorfindel began to
explain calmly.
"I can't," Frodo protested. "I'm not an elf."
Glorfindel got to his feet and stared down at him. "Do you want me to choose another
elf?" he demanded. "Guillyn was beyond suspicion. I'll warrant that even now he will
claim to have her best interests at heart." Frodo looked up and saw the wounded father
who only wanted to protect his daughter, to make it all up to her. To forgive himself.
"You and I know better. We see the child behind the portents. You have been a comfort
to my daughter when I could not. You have been her defender."
Visions of himself standing between Guillyn and Enaiowen flashed through his mind.
"You saw that?" he asked modestly.
Glorfindel nodded. "I was shamed by it. I should have been the one here today. If not
for my bad judgment she would not have needed defending." He laid a steadying hand
on the hobbit's shoulder. "Frodo, do not let her suffer for my poor insight again."
"Very well," he relented, forcing the fear from his mind. What did he have to fear
anyway? Embarrassment should be the least of his worries. "I'll try for Enaiowen's
sake, but I warn you—I'm not a teacher."
The elf smiled. "But you care for her," he said. "Right now she needs that more than
anything."
A soft rapping upon his door pulled Frodo from his dreams the next morning. He sat up
in his bed with the sound of the children's laughter still echoing in his mind. The dream
had been different this time but the feeling of contentment still remained. He
remembered them racing ahead of him, giggling as he tried to reach out for them. He
could have caught them if he had wanted to but to catch them would mean the end of the
game and the end of their laughter which was more beautiful than music to him. He
smiled to himself. How wonderful Sam's life must be.
Upon opening his door he saw an unusual sight upon his doorstep. He almost laughed
aloud. "Bilbo!" he cried. "What are you doing here?"
The older hobbit sat amidst a pile of dozens of books of varying size, color and age.
Upon his lap sat open a large brown, leather tome which he had been reading with great
fascination. He looked up at his nephew and smiled. "Good morning, dear boy," he
greeted without getting to his feet. "Gandalf told me that you've been given the task of
teaching the cloistered elf. I came to look at the books."
Frodo joined his uncle on the doorstep. "I guess that name describes her well enough,"
he sighed, surveying the books at his feet. "I don't suppose Gandalf told you his part in
getting me the job."
Bilbo chuckled softly. "No, he didn't but it's rather easy to guess. He has been
especially worried about you." The look he gave Frodo told him he shared the concern.
"You spend too much time alone."
Frodo smiled grimly in response. He didn't want to address the problem his uncle had
brought up. The thought that he had become a concern to anyone troubled him enough.
He turned his attention back to the books. "There seems to be quite a lot here," he
commented.
Bilbo closed the book in his lap and picked up another to inspect its spine. This one was
blue and had the gold engraving of a dragon on its cover. "Yes and they seem to run
along the same subject lines," he remarked with interest.
Frodo picked up a small pile and read the titles. 'A Field Guide to Demons of the
Western Continent', 'An Encyclopedia of Fairies and Other Mischievous Spirits',
'Magical Water Fauna of the North Sea'. The titles of the books continued in similar
fashion. Some focused on geographic location while others divided their subjects into
their basic elements. All of them concerned spirits, or demons or monsters, more than he
could ever have imagined living in Middle Earth.
Frodo frowned at the overwhelming number of them. "What am I supposed to be
preparing her for?" he asked.
Bilbo patted his nephew on the back enthusiastically. "For adventure, my dear boy!" He
climbed to his feet, gathering several of the books around him into his arms. "I almost
envy you. Through these books you'll be able to see a new world and all the creatures
that live in it. The safest kind of adventure you could imagine." He carried the books he
held into Frodo's home.
Frodo remained alone on his doorstep amidst the remaining books. He didn't see
adventure like his uncle did. It was pain, and sadness, and fear. It was never returning
home again. He thought of Enaiowen and the awesome responsibility Glorfindel had
placed on his shoulders. "It won't be safe for her," he said sadly. "I'll simply be reading
about these things. She will have to face them one day. How she fares will depend on
how well I can teach her."
He tried to gather the rest of the books into his arms but found that there were far too
many. One of them tumbled off of the stack he made. As he tried to catch it, he lost four
more. Bilbo returned from inside and began to help him carry the ones he had dropped.
Frodo looked down at the fallen books and sighed. "It will take me years to go through
all these books."
Bilbo laughed. "I believe it's supposed to."
Frodo had spent half the day deciding which book with which to start. After he and Bilbo
brought them all in and sorted through them, they counted thirty-two in all. Thirty-two
books on mystical creatures that inhabit a world he would never see. He would have to
learn about them all, how they lived, what powered them, how to kill them. He had to
know it all and pass on the knowledge to her.
He had settled on a medium-sized red volume which separated the spirits and creatures
geographically. Each chapter began with a brief history of the region. Of all the books it
seemed to be the most basic.
He had to begin somewhere. He sat on the beach and waited.
Enaiowen approached him from the same path that had introduced her to him. She
looked at him and smiled weakly. She seemed nervous, hesitant. "May I ask you a
question?" she said instead of a greeting.
"Of course," he replied.
"Are you being punished?" she asked with a frown.
Inwardly he had asked himself that question many times. He still worried that he would
fail her somehow. Letting her know his doubts would be a bad start. "No, I consider this
an honor," he told her, hoping he had hidden his discomfort well.
She sat down next to him, pulling her legs close to her chest. "Well, I'm not very happy
about it," she confided.
"Why not?" he asked with concern.
Her hand made a sweeping gesture taking in the beach and the sea and the air around her.
"This was special. This was a place outside my life, like an escape. Now it's just another
place to have my lessons." She sighed deeply and unhappily, placing her chin upon her
now folded arms. "All I wanted to do was sit on this beach and wait with you."
Frodo smiled. "Don't think of it as work, then," he was surprised to hear himself say.
"Think of it as something to pass the time while we wait."
TBC
Author's note: I hope this chapter wasn't too boring. I had to fill in a lot of blanks so
that things would make sense. I promise the remaining chapters will be VERY
enjoyable. The next one will be a little light-hearted. Years have passed and Enai' will
be putting some of her lessons into practice. Frodo's dreams will continue but he will
find that he isn't the only one having them.
The chapters following the next will be very angsty. I have to take care to write them
well and that may take time. (Don't worry, I am working up to Sam's arrival!) Since it
seems that I only have a handful of faithful readers, let me know if you want me to notify
you when I have updated. I worry that with the sudden influx of LOTR fanfics that my
story tends to get buried.
See the end of this chapter for author's note.
On the Beach—Chapter Three: Sins of the Father
For the first time in more than a week Frodo stood on the beach without Enaiowen.
Already the setting seemed strange. Moments before he had faced down an elf more than
twice his size. Not one for confrontation, he already felt too drained to deal with another
one. He hoped that Glorfindel did not bring unpleasantness with him but by the somber
look upon his face he knew he was not a happy elf. Frodo braced himself for whatever
he had to say.
Glorfindel circled around the hobbit slowly surveying the view of the sea. "Frodo, it has
been many years since our paths have crossed and once again you hold my fate in your
hands." His tone was grave.
"I hold no one's fate but my own," he replied nervously.
"You misunderstand me," Glorfindel said, slightly startled. Only now did he meet his
gaze. Frodo saw at once that he seemed to be in pain. "I am in you debt. It is because of
you that I have discovered Guillyn's treachery. A change has come over her, subtle, but
enough to give me hope. In searching for this positive influence I instead discovered
what had cast such a shadow over her." He looked away again and focused on the
indentation Enaiowen had left in the sand. "I am horrified that I have allowed myself to
be deceived."
"She never spoke of it to you?" Frodo asked.
Glorfindel crouched down and traced the outline of his daughter's footprints with his
fingertips, so small, so delicate. His words sounded as if they came from far away. "He
had her believe his abuse was a necessary requirement of her instruction."
"How long had she endured this?" He was almost afraid to hear the answer.
The elf sighed deeply and brought his hand back to him. "Too long. He has damaged her
in a way that may be impossible to repair."
"He spoke as if he had the right to treat her maliciously," Frodo said. The venom in
Guillyn's voice was still fresh in his mind. "He said that she had killed her mother."
Glorfindel faced him again. "Elves do not die in childbirth, Frodo. Such a thing is
unprecedented among my people. A worse omen could not even be imagined for the
birth of a child. Many foretold that she would destroy us all." He paused as he gathered
his words from across distant memories. "Some, albeit a small minority, saw that she
was a necessary part of our salvation. All agreed that she was to be removed from
Middle Earth. She was placed in my care and I brought her here."
Placed in his care? A realization came to Frodo. "You're not her true father then," he
announced carefully.
The elf shook his head gravely. A gentle breeze came upon them suddenly and the air
distorted the gentle shapes in the sand. "I am her father by everything but blood. I love
her as my own. Guillyn's mistreatment of her wounds me deeply. She may find ways to
heal from his abuse more readily than I will for allowing it to happen."
They remained in silence for a long while. Glorfindel finally sat in the sand, folding his
long legs in front of him. "Enaiowen can never return to Middle Earth," he said
suddenly. "That is the one thing everyone agreed upon. Her fate is sealed there. For her
to return would mean to lose her forever."
"How is that?" Frodo asked.
"She will lose her heart there," he spoke. The words seemed to come directly from a
cryptically written fortune. Frodo thought immediately of Arwen. Was such a fortune
told at her birth? If her father had known, would he have tried to prevent it? Glorfindel
was determined to rewrite Enaiowen's future. "Whether it is for good or ill, I will not
resign her to the fate. Her destiny will lie elsewhere. There is another land that the Valar
keep watch over. When she comes of age she will be sent as a warden much as the Maiar
were sent to Middle Earth. Her life is devoted to preparing her for this duty. Only now I
am without a teacher." He looked to the hobbit intently. "That is what I wish to discuss
with you."
"Me?" Frodo said with surprise.
The elf looked at him in earnest. "I need someone I can trust to be her teacher. Gandalf
suggested you."
The hobbit was aghast. Gandalf had obviously been working in the background of his
life with the mischief of a meddling in-law. "Why would Gandalf put me forth? I know
of nothing that I could teach an elf."
"Materials will be provided. You will have everything you need," Glorfindel began to
explain calmly.
"I can't," Frodo protested. "I'm not an elf."
Glorfindel got to his feet and stared down at him. "Do you want me to choose another
elf?" he demanded. "Guillyn was beyond suspicion. I'll warrant that even now he will
claim to have her best interests at heart." Frodo looked up and saw the wounded father
who only wanted to protect his daughter, to make it all up to her. To forgive himself.
"You and I know better. We see the child behind the portents. You have been a comfort
to my daughter when I could not. You have been her defender."
Visions of himself standing between Guillyn and Enaiowen flashed through his mind.
"You saw that?" he asked modestly.
Glorfindel nodded. "I was shamed by it. I should have been the one here today. If not
for my bad judgment she would not have needed defending." He laid a steadying hand
on the hobbit's shoulder. "Frodo, do not let her suffer for my poor insight again."
"Very well," he relented, forcing the fear from his mind. What did he have to fear
anyway? Embarrassment should be the least of his worries. "I'll try for Enaiowen's
sake, but I warn you—I'm not a teacher."
The elf smiled. "But you care for her," he said. "Right now she needs that more than
anything."
A soft rapping upon his door pulled Frodo from his dreams the next morning. He sat up
in his bed with the sound of the children's laughter still echoing in his mind. The dream
had been different this time but the feeling of contentment still remained. He
remembered them racing ahead of him, giggling as he tried to reach out for them. He
could have caught them if he had wanted to but to catch them would mean the end of the
game and the end of their laughter which was more beautiful than music to him. He
smiled to himself. How wonderful Sam's life must be.
Upon opening his door he saw an unusual sight upon his doorstep. He almost laughed
aloud. "Bilbo!" he cried. "What are you doing here?"
The older hobbit sat amidst a pile of dozens of books of varying size, color and age.
Upon his lap sat open a large brown, leather tome which he had been reading with great
fascination. He looked up at his nephew and smiled. "Good morning, dear boy," he
greeted without getting to his feet. "Gandalf told me that you've been given the task of
teaching the cloistered elf. I came to look at the books."
Frodo joined his uncle on the doorstep. "I guess that name describes her well enough,"
he sighed, surveying the books at his feet. "I don't suppose Gandalf told you his part in
getting me the job."
Bilbo chuckled softly. "No, he didn't but it's rather easy to guess. He has been
especially worried about you." The look he gave Frodo told him he shared the concern.
"You spend too much time alone."
Frodo smiled grimly in response. He didn't want to address the problem his uncle had
brought up. The thought that he had become a concern to anyone troubled him enough.
He turned his attention back to the books. "There seems to be quite a lot here," he
commented.
Bilbo closed the book in his lap and picked up another to inspect its spine. This one was
blue and had the gold engraving of a dragon on its cover. "Yes and they seem to run
along the same subject lines," he remarked with interest.
Frodo picked up a small pile and read the titles. 'A Field Guide to Demons of the
Western Continent', 'An Encyclopedia of Fairies and Other Mischievous Spirits',
'Magical Water Fauna of the North Sea'. The titles of the books continued in similar
fashion. Some focused on geographic location while others divided their subjects into
their basic elements. All of them concerned spirits, or demons or monsters, more than he
could ever have imagined living in Middle Earth.
Frodo frowned at the overwhelming number of them. "What am I supposed to be
preparing her for?" he asked.
Bilbo patted his nephew on the back enthusiastically. "For adventure, my dear boy!" He
climbed to his feet, gathering several of the books around him into his arms. "I almost
envy you. Through these books you'll be able to see a new world and all the creatures
that live in it. The safest kind of adventure you could imagine." He carried the books he
held into Frodo's home.
Frodo remained alone on his doorstep amidst the remaining books. He didn't see
adventure like his uncle did. It was pain, and sadness, and fear. It was never returning
home again. He thought of Enaiowen and the awesome responsibility Glorfindel had
placed on his shoulders. "It won't be safe for her," he said sadly. "I'll simply be reading
about these things. She will have to face them one day. How she fares will depend on
how well I can teach her."
He tried to gather the rest of the books into his arms but found that there were far too
many. One of them tumbled off of the stack he made. As he tried to catch it, he lost four
more. Bilbo returned from inside and began to help him carry the ones he had dropped.
Frodo looked down at the fallen books and sighed. "It will take me years to go through
all these books."
Bilbo laughed. "I believe it's supposed to."
Frodo had spent half the day deciding which book with which to start. After he and Bilbo
brought them all in and sorted through them, they counted thirty-two in all. Thirty-two
books on mystical creatures that inhabit a world he would never see. He would have to
learn about them all, how they lived, what powered them, how to kill them. He had to
know it all and pass on the knowledge to her.
He had settled on a medium-sized red volume which separated the spirits and creatures
geographically. Each chapter began with a brief history of the region. Of all the books it
seemed to be the most basic.
He had to begin somewhere. He sat on the beach and waited.
Enaiowen approached him from the same path that had introduced her to him. She
looked at him and smiled weakly. She seemed nervous, hesitant. "May I ask you a
question?" she said instead of a greeting.
"Of course," he replied.
"Are you being punished?" she asked with a frown.
Inwardly he had asked himself that question many times. He still worried that he would
fail her somehow. Letting her know his doubts would be a bad start. "No, I consider this
an honor," he told her, hoping he had hidden his discomfort well.
She sat down next to him, pulling her legs close to her chest. "Well, I'm not very happy
about it," she confided.
"Why not?" he asked with concern.
Her hand made a sweeping gesture taking in the beach and the sea and the air around her.
"This was special. This was a place outside my life, like an escape. Now it's just another
place to have my lessons." She sighed deeply and unhappily, placing her chin upon her
now folded arms. "All I wanted to do was sit on this beach and wait with you."
Frodo smiled. "Don't think of it as work, then," he was surprised to hear himself say.
"Think of it as something to pass the time while we wait."
TBC
Author's note: I hope this chapter wasn't too boring. I had to fill in a lot of blanks so
that things would make sense. I promise the remaining chapters will be VERY
enjoyable. The next one will be a little light-hearted. Years have passed and Enai' will
be putting some of her lessons into practice. Frodo's dreams will continue but he will
find that he isn't the only one having them.
The chapters following the next will be very angsty. I have to take care to write them
well and that may take time. (Don't worry, I am working up to Sam's arrival!) Since it
seems that I only have a handful of faithful readers, let me know if you want me to notify
you when I have updated. I worry that with the sudden influx of LOTR fanfics that my
story tends to get buried.
