Again, the revised version, i.e. chopped, diced, hopefully better.
~*~*~
"My esteemed mentor!"
Elrond stood to greet the elf entering the room, forgoing formality and embracing her. She laughed, hugging him before stepping back to regard him with keen silver-grey eyes. "Imagine my surprise at getting a message from you when I only came home again yesterday."
"The very walls have ears, you know." Elrond's smile was teasing.
"In fair Mithlond where the King's Court is kept?" A small snort. "How well I know it." She sat and sighed. "I am so very grateful for a floor that does not sway up and down, or side to side."
"I was truly surprised to hear you were not in Mithlond, Bronwe."
The elf smirked, tucking her hair behind her ear. "A rare occasion, to be sure, but I had an escort that would put a Prince of the Vanyar to shame." She sighed. "Lord and Lady Cemendur were adamant their heir be delivered with full pomp and honour. The Lady Galadriel could have caught the child as well as I but they feared some fell curse that ne'er came to pass."
"Just as well you were present then." Elrond smiled as she looked upwards. "Círdan is still determined to make a proper Teleri of you yet, hmm?"
She shook her head. "I love the sea, I simply don't love ships." Her smile faded slightly. "I've seen too many loved ones leave on those vessels to be fond of them."
Elrond nodded. Much of her family had gone West after the death of Dior in Doriath, escaping from the troubles of Arda. She had remained, choosing to travel with many of the survivors of Doriath to Mithlond. "Yes, but you humour Círdan so perfectly he takes it for interest."
With a snort the elf shook her head. "I can see being Gil-galad's Herald has yet to tame that sarcasm of yours."
"Only tempered it," he agreed.
"So tell me." She leaned forward slightly. "What is this mystery you alluded to in your note?"
"Whom, not what."
"An Elf?"
Elrond nodded. "Of rather unusual circumstances."
"Coming from you that is rather frightening."
A wry smile as he drew in a deep breath. "Were there any tales in Doriath of Elves returning from Mandos' Halls?"
Eyes widening slightly, Bronwe gazed at him a long moment, wondering why a Lore Master was asking her such a question. One descended from Tinúviel herself. Still, she knew Elrond had reasons for the things he did. "Lúthien and Beren, of course."
Elrond nodded. "And yet we seem to have another who has come to dwell amongst us." Seeing her rapt attention, he smiled. "Does the name Glorfindel sound familiar?"
She blinked once, frowning. "Are you telling me that the slayer of the Balrog, lamented and sung of in lays, is alive and here in Mithlond?"
He nodded, holding the disbelieving gaze of the other with a mild smile.
"You know this for fact?"
"He is here." Elrond gestured behind him. "Looking through chronicles in my library."
"Neither you nor Gil-galad knew him." Bronwe gnawed on her lower lip, trying to reconcile what she knew was normal with this information.
Normally an elf, slain or dead of grief, went to Mandos' Halls. After a time they were released to live in Aman.
They did not return to Enndore, and indeed, who would wish to forsake Aman?
"Do we know he's truly one and the same?"
"Galadriel called him by name. Glorfindel of Gondolin. Named him cousin even."
"Bright Lady," she breathed, standing to wander to a window, gazing out at the dusky sky. Shaking her head, Bronwe turned to face her former mentor. "Why?" It was no small question. Elves did not typically gain reincorporated bodies. Such a thing occurred for no small reason. "Did he also sing and charm Mandos into returning him for the sake of his love?"
Elrond chuckled. "I doubt it, though it is possible." He stood, walking over to stand next to her. "We don't really know why he is returned."
"Did you ask?" She wrinkled her nose as he stared at her for such an obvious question. "Don't give me that look, Elrond Half-Elven!" Small grin.
"There is our difficulty." He sighed. "Glorfindel doesn't remember." At her stare he added, "Anything. He did not even offer a name to us and has spoken a grand total of six words since we found him."
"Found him."
He nodded. "Gil-galad and I were riding along the shore and came upon him, sitting on a rock, gazing out at the ocean, naked as the day he was born." Rubbing her forehead, Bronwe sat against the sill. "He was unclothed and didn't know who he was."
She frowned up at him. "Why send him back then?"
Chuckling, Elrond shook his head. "You ask what we wonder as well."
"Why are you telling me this?"
Was that suspicion in her gaze? Eyes narrowed, she watched him like one of the great hawks.
"Gil-galad and I leave for Eregion in the morn." He sighed and gazed at her. "I cannot leave him alone. I don't even know if he understands when I speak to him. You came to mind as soon as I pondered who could possibly help him relearn all that he must know to re-enter society."
"Me."
Elrond nodded. "Does that surprise you?" Soft smile for a favoured student. "You are a gifted healer, Bronwe. Why do you think you are kept so closely? Females with the gift of healing, and even moreso those willing to expend themselves outside of kin, are growing exceedingly rare." A frown drew his brows together. "We are losing more gifts with each passing generation."
Gnawing on her lip again, the elf regarded him with a solemn gaze. "Wouldn't he be better off with a male?" She stood abruptly, pacing to a table where books and parchments were scattered. Fingered the feather on an ink quill. "My brothers have been gone since the fall of Doriath, and I am no expert on male thinking. How could he relate to me?"
Slowly walking over to stand near her, Elrond raised one eyebrow. "You have more empathy than most healers I have worked with. You know what a patient needs, how and when." Reaching out, clasped her shoulder. "I sense this is the correct decision, Bron. There is…something in you that I sense will help him to get past whatever it is that blocks him now."
Her eyes shimmered pale grey in the dimming light as she held his gaze for a long moment. Pulling away, she turned and stared at the floor, considering what he had said, how she felt and what her instincts were telling her. She had no fears for getting involved too personally – no healer would do so. The patient/healer bond was a sacred one. To break the trust would make a mockery of the healing.
Elrond was an incredibly gifted healer, a legacy of his mixed ancestry. She trusted him.
He, it seemed, placed trust in her.
Bronwe turned, expression unreadable. "Might I meet him? Then I will tell you yes or no."
The dark-haired elf nodded. It was a perfectly reasonable request. If there was no connection in a healing such as this, there was little hope for success. "Come with me and I'll introduce you."
~*~*~
Elrond watched, silently gauging his former student's reactions to Glorfindel. He hadn't expected her to be overwhelmed by him, but one never knew how another would react to being introduced to the hero of songs brought back to life.
He was pleased to see Bronwe treating the blonde elf like any other patient. She was laughing as she pointed to something on the page before Glorfindel.
"That is Círdan, though the drawing is certainly far from accurate." Mirth gleamed in the grey eyes as she straightened. "Círdan is an oddity because he has a beard." Shooting a glance at Elrond, she continued, "And the fact that he cares more for ships than almost everything else."
"You aren't supposed to teach your own prejudices, Bron," Elrond scolded lightly.
"Oh, yes…" She nodded with an entirely somber expression. "For I am certain I gained none of my opinions from my own esteemed mentor." With a wink for Glorfindel who was watching the by-play with a curious smile, Bronwe gestured with her head towards Elrond.
The blonde elf arched one eyebrow and pointed to the one who had shepherded him about.
"Yes." Bronwe nodded, sitting next to Glorfindel. "Elrond was my mentor. He is a very wise elf, Glorfindel, if a bit on the stodgy side at times…"
The elf in question raised an eyebrow, gazing at her with dark blue eyes. "Stodgy?"
Continuing as if he hadn't spoken, Bronwe confided, "He was always very serious, at least since I have known him, but I'm afraid Gil-galad's influence is not helping. The King made Elrond his Herald and …" She sighed, shaking her head in mock dismay. "He's taken it all quite to heart in typical Peredhil stubborn fashion."
And he had been worried she might be overwhelmed? Elrond watched Glorfindel carefully for any negative reaction to Bronwe's teasing, but he was smiling easily, obviously enjoying himself. Which really shouldn't have come as a surprise. From all Elrond had been able to find and read of Gondolin, Glorfindel had been accounted as an outgoing, sociable sort. His name had certainly been listed enough times at court functions.
"Glorfindel." Elrond walked over to stand before the other two. "Gil-galad and I have been called away and I must leave tomorrow for a time. I had thought to leave you in Bronwe's care while I was away. "He didn't miss the surprise or curious look the blonde shot in Bronwe's direction, and schooled his face to keep from showing any expression.
Bronwe knew as well as any healer, perhaps better since he had the training of her, that you never, under any circumstances, became involved with anyone you were treating. He had drilled that into her head from the beginning after seeing several promising young healers commit the folly of involving their hearts in a patient, only to have it all fall apart when the patient returned to his or her life.
Healers walked a fine line. They had to care, must be committed mind and soul to wanting to see a patient get better, or the healing simply wouldn't work. Almost anyone could mix herbs, concoct teas and brews to help a sick person. The act of healing required a certain degree of trust and intimacy. Barriers had to be lowered so that the power granted the healer could be transferred. Directed.
It was an instinctive ability. Every elf had the ability to some degree, mostly lesser. Healers were the few who had the ability to channel huge amounts of the healing power to a patient. To direct it and control it to a finely honed degree.
Healing was selfless. It meant giving of yourself. Surrendering to the power and allowing it to flow. Taking in a degree of the other's pain in order to understand.
They had to be cautious not to give too much of themselves, and yet be willing to give all.
"What he's trying to say, in his best heraldly fashion, is will you agree to allow me to continue with your getting back into this life?" Bronwe ignored the mock put-upon sigh of her mentor, looking at Glorfindel. "While I can sense some of what you are feeling, I cannot read minds like some."
"Galadriel." Another word from the mostly silent elf.
Bronwe nodded at the look of distaste on the blonde's face, unsuccessfully trying to hide a smile. "She is very powerful, yes. With me, however, you'll need to exercise those vocal abilities and speak."
Elrond almost chuckled at the speculative way Glorfindel regarded the woman, as if weighing the possibilities. To her credit, Bronwe gazed right back, perfectly collected.
Glorfindel turned his gaze to Elrond and he seemed to be struggling to find a word. "Back?"
Elrond waited, hoping for more, but shook his head as the blonde huffed in frustration.
It was Bronwe's advantage at that point. Sitting as close as she was to Glorfindel, she sensed some of what he intended. "Will he return?"
An impatient nod.
"Mithlond is my home, Glorfindel." Elrond smiled, finding it easy to like this quiet elf. "When Gil-galad is satisfied his work is done in Eregion, we will return here."
The answer seemed to satisfy Glorfindel, and he nodded again.
"Is that a yes to you agreeing to work with Bronwe then?"
A rather mischievous smile curved the blonde elf's mouth as he glanced at the woman, then met Elrond's eyes. "Yes."
Bronwe chuckled. "I'm going to be busy, and here I thought I was going to have a quiet lull between the ladies of court bearing their heirs."
Elrond knew there were always elves coming and going, whether to see their loved ones off to Aman, visit the court in Mithlond, or emissaries there to take something up with Gil-galad and his advisors. There was never a shortage of beings needing a healer's attention it seemed.
And not all were elves. There was a strong trade between the other peoples of Arda and Gil-galad's people.
"I must take leave. Glorfindel, I will see you when I return." Elrond cocked an eyebrow at Bronwe. "Walk with me a moment?"
Standing, Bronwe told Glorfindel, "I'll be right back. Here," She reached over and flipped through the parchments to several covered in drawings and calligraphy. "The tale of Eärendil and Elwing, since you had a hand in keeping Elrond's father alive. Elrond's family history is fascinating."
A snort that announced her mentor heard her comment, and she lightly touched the blonde's shoulder before walking away with Elrond.
Once he was certain they were out of ear-shot, Elrond stopped. "I do not wish to alarm you, Bron, but …be alert. I hesitate to call it dark, but there is a duality to Glorfindel I have sensed."
Tilting her head to regard him, the woman offered a quirky smile. "Are you telling the slayer of a Balrog could be dangerous?"
Sighing, Elrond reached forward to touch the side of her face. "Stars light your path, Bronwe."
"Lothron lîn taleg n galen a en hwest erin lîn ad, my esteemed mentor." She reached up to likewise touch his face. "Lady guide you."
Turning before he had disappeared, Bronwe returned to Glorfindel who was engrossed in gazing at the parchments. He looked up as she sat across from him and pointed to one of the drawings.
A rueful smile curved Bronwe's face. "That is Elwing in the form of a bird, the Silmaril bright upon her breast." Her gaze stayed on the gem and her thoughts wandered to another time, another Silmaril, and the downfall of an entire land.
So much lost due to one elf's deeds and words.
So much power in seemingly little things.
Her brooding was broken as fingers touched her hand. Looking up, Bronwe blinked at Glorfindel, seeing the concern in the light blue eyes. She shook her head. "I am sorry, my friend. I was lost in reminiscing." Taking a deep breath and clearing her mind she smiled brightly. "Would you like to hear the tale of Eärendil and Elwing?"
Glorfindel nodded, smiling ruefully as she shook her head, her waiting for him to speak clear in her expression. "Yes," he answered and was granted a bright smile.
He settled in for the tale, listening to the elf's lilting voice and letting it carry him along.
~*~*~
TBC