Chapter 33
And the dreams were of my parents. Before leaving Gondor I had read quite a lot of mother's diary and now I was in safe place, the memories of what I had read manifested in my dreams. It was as if I was watching what had happened all those years ago before I was born.
Gilraen sat in the gardens of Rivendell. Some years had passed since she first became a Ranger, and she had been on several missions in the past years. The latest, carrying messages to the elven realm of Mirkwood, in the company of 3 other Rangers, and the twins Elrohir and Elladan, had lead to an encounter with Orcs on the way home to Rivendell, during which Gilraen had received a serious arm wound.
So, now she sat in the gardens, her left arm in a sling, watching the birds feed at one of the ornate and beautiful feeding stations installed for their use, and of course to encourage them into the gardens, which like everything the elves did or owned were extremely lovely. Even such loveliness can pall when one is forced by injury in sit idle, she thought.
A beautiful voice interrupted her musings. 'How are you this morning, Lady Gilraen?' She turned and saw Elrond, dressed informally, his dark hair for once upbraided. He approached soundlessly, and sat next to her.
'I am well, my lord,' she replied.
'Yes, your arm is healing well, but you appear troubled,' he said, his grey eyes locked on hers.
'No, I am just tired of sitting about, even in such a lovely place as this,' she said.
Elrond laughed, 'If that is your trouble, then I think I can help you.'
She looked startled and wary, and he laughed. 'Have you had breakfast yet?' he asked.
'No, my lord, I have not.'
"Well, no wonder you feeling out of sorts! We shall have to rectify that immediately.' He was laughing again, and Gilraen made a comment about his good humour, which only made the half- elf laugh even harder.
'It is a lovely day, and I have convinced the dangerous Lady Ranger Gilraen to have breakfast with me. Why shouldn't I be in a good humour,' he said between bursts of laughter.
By this time, Gilraen had found Elrond's laughter contagious, and was laughing with him. They giggled like naughty children for a while, and then lack of breath stopped them.
'Do you feel better now?' Elrond inquired as he escorted Gilraen into a small quiet room that like most of those in Rivendell was more than half outdoors, and flowed into the garden to become almost part of it.
'Yes, thank you I do, but I was unaware that part of a healers' duties was laughing the patients well!'
Her comment only caused Elrond to laugh again, this time until he had to wipe away tears when he was finished. 'That is what I like about you, Gilraen, I never know what you will say next!' She muttered something acidic that again turned the Lord of Rivendell into a laughing maniac, only stopped this time by the appearance of a silent footed servant bearing breakfast trays. Fluffy omelettes, bacon fried with mushrooms, and pancakes were apparently this day's menu, and Gilraen found no difficulty in finishing her share.
As they sipped the herbal tea that accompanied the meal, Gilraen watched Elrond carefully. Finally her close scrutiny got too much for the elf, 'Have I grown an extra head, my lady, that you stare so.'
'No, no I'm sorry. I just, well, how did the servant know to bring two breakfast trays?' she stammered, ashamed at having being caught staring at Elrond.
'I laid a deep dark plan with some help from your son. He said you hadn't been eating well, and he was at his wit's end to make you. So I thought that if you had breakfast with me you would eat as I would likely ask you awkward questions if you did not!'
'It appears I have been out flanked, my lord,' she smiled.
'Yes, you have been,' he said, 'but I wish it had not been necessary. Even I have to be worried when I have so many people interrupting me all day about you.'
'Who, my lord,' she said 'besides my son, of course.'
'Many, including my sons and Glorfindel, plus some of the servants and most of the Mirkwood elves.'
'Oh,' she hung her head a little, 'I didn't realise that so many people have been worried.'
Elrond's grey eyes where kind, as he took Gilraen's right hand in his. 'You do seem to have trouble realising that many people like you and respect you for your work as a Ranger. There does however, seem to be a prevailing belief that you seek trouble by trailing orcs where you should not. It is held that you seek to avenge Arathorn.'
He was too polite, she realised, to straight out and say to her that he believed that unlikely in light of a certain conversation in which she had told Elrond her marriage had been far from a happy one.
'I know what you think my lord, and what I am going to say is strange, but true. Yes, I do kill orcs for my dead husband, for no matter what my life as his wife was like, I know perfectly well he was an excellent chieftain, and it was a tragedy to the Dunedain people he died when he did, with his heir just a little child. And I do it for my son, that he might meet fewer orcs and lesser danger on the road. A great loss would be his death as things stand, for he has no wife, nor child.'
She looked up at Elrond, and saw respect and admiration in his gaze. 'I have wronged you, lady,' he said quietly. 'I should have seen you could put the personal difficulties you had with Arathorn aside, and avenge your chieftain, and your son's father, if not your husband. It is a great pity that Arathorn did take the time to know you for the brave lady you are, for I am sure he would have loved you dearly if he had allowed himself to.'
'Quite possibly, my lord,' she said.
'As I see you do not wish to discuss this further, I shall make a suggestion as to how you could fill in time until your arm is fully healed,' he said.
She looked interested, unwilling to admit she had been bored to tears, but reluctant to show to much excitement over a possible activity in case Elrond felt his hospitality had lacked. 'Are you going to tell me?' she asked after a long silence.
'Of course, if you do not wish to do this, you do not have to,' he said.
'Do what, my lord,' she giggled suddenly. 'You are being so secretive I'm starting to wonder if you wish me to do something illegal!'
He laughed too, 'No, nothing like that! I hope that you will agree to help me in reorganising my library. I have been putting it off for years, mostly due to lack of a willing assistant, and the problem of the library has escalated lately due to the fact I have recently been given several crates of books and manuscripts. It is not an exciting pastime, sorting and cataloguing a huge quantity of books, but it is something you could do while you wait for your arm to fully heal.'
'I see,' she said 'you thought I would agree to whatever it was you wanted and only after I agreed would you have to tell me what a boring job you want my help for!' She shook her head, 'My father told me elves are tricky.'
The Lord of Rivendell looked a little ashamed of himself. 'You do not have to do this.' His voice was very soft, and he looked like a boy chastened by an elder.
'I don't mind, my lord. I love books, and would be very happy to help you with your library.'
'Oh,' said Elrond, a bit stunned. He was used to people coming up with all sorts of strange, weird and curious reasons for not wanting to help in the library, even Arwen would only help reluctantly. The only person who had helped willingly was Celebrian, and he knew that she only helped because she was his wife, and loved him, not out of any real interest in the books.
Gilraen looked expectantly at Elrond, and he realised he had not actually accepted her help. Still suffering from a sense of shock, he thanked her, and suggested that they might want to commence work that day. She agreed, and spent the next few weeks assisting Elrond in his library. And out of that, a deep friendship grew between a lonely elf lord and a mortal widow.
And the dreams were of my parents. Before leaving Gondor I had read quite a lot of mother's diary and now I was in safe place, the memories of what I had read manifested in my dreams. It was as if I was watching what had happened all those years ago before I was born.
Gilraen sat in the gardens of Rivendell. Some years had passed since she first became a Ranger, and she had been on several missions in the past years. The latest, carrying messages to the elven realm of Mirkwood, in the company of 3 other Rangers, and the twins Elrohir and Elladan, had lead to an encounter with Orcs on the way home to Rivendell, during which Gilraen had received a serious arm wound.
So, now she sat in the gardens, her left arm in a sling, watching the birds feed at one of the ornate and beautiful feeding stations installed for their use, and of course to encourage them into the gardens, which like everything the elves did or owned were extremely lovely. Even such loveliness can pall when one is forced by injury in sit idle, she thought.
A beautiful voice interrupted her musings. 'How are you this morning, Lady Gilraen?' She turned and saw Elrond, dressed informally, his dark hair for once upbraided. He approached soundlessly, and sat next to her.
'I am well, my lord,' she replied.
'Yes, your arm is healing well, but you appear troubled,' he said, his grey eyes locked on hers.
'No, I am just tired of sitting about, even in such a lovely place as this,' she said.
Elrond laughed, 'If that is your trouble, then I think I can help you.'
She looked startled and wary, and he laughed. 'Have you had breakfast yet?' he asked.
'No, my lord, I have not.'
"Well, no wonder you feeling out of sorts! We shall have to rectify that immediately.' He was laughing again, and Gilraen made a comment about his good humour, which only made the half- elf laugh even harder.
'It is a lovely day, and I have convinced the dangerous Lady Ranger Gilraen to have breakfast with me. Why shouldn't I be in a good humour,' he said between bursts of laughter.
By this time, Gilraen had found Elrond's laughter contagious, and was laughing with him. They giggled like naughty children for a while, and then lack of breath stopped them.
'Do you feel better now?' Elrond inquired as he escorted Gilraen into a small quiet room that like most of those in Rivendell was more than half outdoors, and flowed into the garden to become almost part of it.
'Yes, thank you I do, but I was unaware that part of a healers' duties was laughing the patients well!'
Her comment only caused Elrond to laugh again, this time until he had to wipe away tears when he was finished. 'That is what I like about you, Gilraen, I never know what you will say next!' She muttered something acidic that again turned the Lord of Rivendell into a laughing maniac, only stopped this time by the appearance of a silent footed servant bearing breakfast trays. Fluffy omelettes, bacon fried with mushrooms, and pancakes were apparently this day's menu, and Gilraen found no difficulty in finishing her share.
As they sipped the herbal tea that accompanied the meal, Gilraen watched Elrond carefully. Finally her close scrutiny got too much for the elf, 'Have I grown an extra head, my lady, that you stare so.'
'No, no I'm sorry. I just, well, how did the servant know to bring two breakfast trays?' she stammered, ashamed at having being caught staring at Elrond.
'I laid a deep dark plan with some help from your son. He said you hadn't been eating well, and he was at his wit's end to make you. So I thought that if you had breakfast with me you would eat as I would likely ask you awkward questions if you did not!'
'It appears I have been out flanked, my lord,' she smiled.
'Yes, you have been,' he said, 'but I wish it had not been necessary. Even I have to be worried when I have so many people interrupting me all day about you.'
'Who, my lord,' she said 'besides my son, of course.'
'Many, including my sons and Glorfindel, plus some of the servants and most of the Mirkwood elves.'
'Oh,' she hung her head a little, 'I didn't realise that so many people have been worried.'
Elrond's grey eyes where kind, as he took Gilraen's right hand in his. 'You do seem to have trouble realising that many people like you and respect you for your work as a Ranger. There does however, seem to be a prevailing belief that you seek trouble by trailing orcs where you should not. It is held that you seek to avenge Arathorn.'
He was too polite, she realised, to straight out and say to her that he believed that unlikely in light of a certain conversation in which she had told Elrond her marriage had been far from a happy one.
'I know what you think my lord, and what I am going to say is strange, but true. Yes, I do kill orcs for my dead husband, for no matter what my life as his wife was like, I know perfectly well he was an excellent chieftain, and it was a tragedy to the Dunedain people he died when he did, with his heir just a little child. And I do it for my son, that he might meet fewer orcs and lesser danger on the road. A great loss would be his death as things stand, for he has no wife, nor child.'
She looked up at Elrond, and saw respect and admiration in his gaze. 'I have wronged you, lady,' he said quietly. 'I should have seen you could put the personal difficulties you had with Arathorn aside, and avenge your chieftain, and your son's father, if not your husband. It is a great pity that Arathorn did take the time to know you for the brave lady you are, for I am sure he would have loved you dearly if he had allowed himself to.'
'Quite possibly, my lord,' she said.
'As I see you do not wish to discuss this further, I shall make a suggestion as to how you could fill in time until your arm is fully healed,' he said.
She looked interested, unwilling to admit she had been bored to tears, but reluctant to show to much excitement over a possible activity in case Elrond felt his hospitality had lacked. 'Are you going to tell me?' she asked after a long silence.
'Of course, if you do not wish to do this, you do not have to,' he said.
'Do what, my lord,' she giggled suddenly. 'You are being so secretive I'm starting to wonder if you wish me to do something illegal!'
He laughed too, 'No, nothing like that! I hope that you will agree to help me in reorganising my library. I have been putting it off for years, mostly due to lack of a willing assistant, and the problem of the library has escalated lately due to the fact I have recently been given several crates of books and manuscripts. It is not an exciting pastime, sorting and cataloguing a huge quantity of books, but it is something you could do while you wait for your arm to fully heal.'
'I see,' she said 'you thought I would agree to whatever it was you wanted and only after I agreed would you have to tell me what a boring job you want my help for!' She shook her head, 'My father told me elves are tricky.'
The Lord of Rivendell looked a little ashamed of himself. 'You do not have to do this.' His voice was very soft, and he looked like a boy chastened by an elder.
'I don't mind, my lord. I love books, and would be very happy to help you with your library.'
'Oh,' said Elrond, a bit stunned. He was used to people coming up with all sorts of strange, weird and curious reasons for not wanting to help in the library, even Arwen would only help reluctantly. The only person who had helped willingly was Celebrian, and he knew that she only helped because she was his wife, and loved him, not out of any real interest in the books.
Gilraen looked expectantly at Elrond, and he realised he had not actually accepted her help. Still suffering from a sense of shock, he thanked her, and suggested that they might want to commence work that day. She agreed, and spent the next few weeks assisting Elrond in his library. And out of that, a deep friendship grew between a lonely elf lord and a mortal widow.