Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings, and all its characters, races, and creatures, as well as our beloved Middle Earth, belongs to JRR Tolkien.
The very next day, the Queen's own father, the Lord of Imladris himself, came to the Houses of Healing. I was again at Darren's bedside. In much the same way his daughter had done the day before, he walked down the aisle toward me. He smiled, and bowed his head in greeting. I returned neither of his attempts at civility. I merely raised one eyebrow in question of his presence.
"I was told I may be of assistance, with an injured soldier," he said.
"Yes, my lord," I answered evenly. "This is the soldier in question—Darren, Son of Derric of Gondor. He was brought in with a compound fracture of the tibia, and while I believe the bone is knitting, the ensuing infection has been stubborn and I have made little headway in healing it."
He approached the bed and bent down. Before touching the bandage, he looked first at me and then at Darren. "May I?" he asked.
At Darren's nod, the Elf lord untied the bandage and looked at the wound. After prodding it somewhat, causing Darren to flinch in pain, Lord Elrond asked me for several herbs, as well as tools with which to crush them and make a poultice of them. I complied and within a very short time Darren was ready to be bandaged again. Before doing that, Elrond closed his eyes and placed the palm of his hand on the injury for the briefest of moments. He then replaced the bandage with a clean one I had been about to put on Darren's leg myself.
Standing upright once more, he addressed Darren, saying, "I can sense that the infection was indeed severe, but its healing has progressed very well. This poultice should help, and I believe that from now on the wound will improve markedly. With Mistress Maeren's continued fine care, I am sure you will be up and around in no time." I did not miss, nor appreciate, his miserable attempt at flattery. However, I had to wonder if he had used some sort of Elven magic, in order to pronounce that it would 'improve markedly' from now on. The herbs he had used were none that I had not also made use of in treating this injury. However, for once, I was not that curious, so I refused to ask and he did not elaborate.
Turning to me, he then said, "Lady Maeren, if you could spare some time, I would like to talk with you." At least the 'lady' in his statement had been a complimentary title and not a slur this time.
We took our leave of Darren and the Queen's father and I then walked back the way he had come. "Ioreth, take charge," I ordered, nastily. I was put out with my guest and she could just deal with my choler as well.
For the second day in a row, she actually made a cordial statement to me. "Yes, my lady. Consider it done." This woman truly never ceased to amaze me. Perhaps I had been approaching her in the wrong fashion. Perhaps she thrived on disrespect and I had been giving her too little of it.
I glared at her and walked on. "Right this way," I said over my shoulder to the Elf lord and we walked toward my office.
I wondered what in Eru's name the Elf lord wished to speak to me about. It had just dawned on me that he and the rest of his Elven clan were supposed to be gone by now. What happened to their plans of departure day before yesterday?
My office was certainly not a grand place, but I refused to allow this person into my home. He deserved no courtesy from me, and I would not entertain him within my personal space. I opened the door and waved him in before me. Closing the door, I went around my whiskey barrel desk and sat in my creaking chair. As he made no move to seat himself, I invited him to sit in the chair opposite me.
Placing my arms on the desk, clasping my hands together, I asked, "What may I do for you, my lord?"
It was galling to me, but I saw amusement in his eyes. Let him laugh it up, for all I care. I have no time for the likes of him and he can be gone just as quickly as he came. Throwing him out would actually make my day—perhaps even my year.
"It pains me greatly, Maeren," he said, obviously trying to make light of the situation, "but I must apologize to you."
I thought my jaw would drop at his nerve. "You must do nothing you wish not to do, my lord," I said icily. "I suppose Aragorn persuaded you to seek me out. He was most insistent that I not leave on my own. If that is the case, I assured him I would not. There is really no need for your false apologies."
His smile faded and he stopped his feeble attempts at charm. They were obviously not working with me. He again smiled weakly and began again. "Truly, I am sincerely sorry for my deplorable conduct. I had no call to speak to you in the manner in which I did, on the morning of our meeting two days past. My visit to you now is of my own volition, I assure you."
"Apology not accepted," I said unkindly. "Now if you would not mind, I am terribly busy." I made as if to rise, but he stopped me with an outstretched hand.
"I deserve every word you are speaking to me—and probably all the thoughts you are thinking, as well." He sat back in his chair. I reluctantly sat back in mine and the danger of my throwing him out was suspended, for the moment at least.
He continued, saying, "There is really no excuse for my behavior. I was horribly wrong to take my feelings out on you. You were very convenient to blame for my pain."
"I know not to what you are referring, my lord," I said in frustration. "Why must you speak in riddles and half statements? Do you not know how to say things plainly?"
"I do know how, Maeren," he replied calmly, "and if you will grant me the time, I will explain myself. I will probably tell you much more than you wish to know."
"Well, if what you intend is to insult me again, you may as well save your breath." I was better at confrontation than I thought.
"I can assure you," he said, trying to soothe me, "insulting you is the furthest thing from my intention."
I sat at my desk, my ire cooling somewhat, waiting to hear what he had to say. He began again, trying to explain his behavior of the other day.
"As I said before, I had no right to treat you as outrageously as I did," he said. "There is not an excuse great enough for my conduct. However, having said that, I would like to explain my state of mind."
Elrond stood and walked to a bookcase against one wall. I had forgotten how tall he was. And his elegance and grace were mystifying. He began again trying to explain his reasons for his ill treatment of me.
"What you may or may not know is that I am half-Elven. Also called Peredhil, in my language." He removed a book from its place on the shelf and turned to look at me. His hands were fascinating. His movements, even down to the flex of his fingers, were fluid and easy.
He turned the book in his hands. "My father was Human and my mother Elven. As such, my brother, Elros, and I were gifted with the choice as to which race we would ultimately belong. I chose to be of the Firstborn—Elven kind. My brother took the other choice—to live as a Human. He has long since departed to the Halls of Mandos, which is still a cause of grief for me to this day."
Elrond opened the book, and while his eyes were looking at the pages, he was not reading them. Instead, he continued, "My children, being the offspring of a Peredhil, were also gifted with this choice." He closed the book and looked at me, saying, "I say gifted, but I believe it is not a gift. It is a curse. The heartache such a gift has brought to me is of untold magnitude." Did I detect a quiver in his voice?
"In binding herself to a Human, my daughter has forfeited her immortality." He turned away from me, his face to the bookcase once again. "She has made the choice to have a Human life." His voice hesitated on the word Human. His sadness was palpable. His emotion surprised me. After our meeting the other day, I had believed him incapable of any feelings, save perhaps spite.
"So, when I learned of Est—Aragorn's indiscretion, it filled me with sorrow on Arwen's behalf. And in my own, if I would be completely honest. She has chosen mortality. Such a sacrifice is to be taken with grave seriousness and I felt as if Aragorn had not done so when he—" He left that thought unspoken. "I took my anger and sadness out on you. You were merely present - at the wrong place during the wrong time, you might say - and that was enough for me to lash out at you in my grief. When I leave for the Undying Lands, I leave my daughter behind me to a certain death. I thought my grief deep when Elros passed from this world. The sorrow from that event was nothing in comparison to this." He leaned into the bookcase, his forehead resting upon the books of one shelf.
He might have been startled when he felt my hand touch his shoulder, though he gave little indication of it. Even though he had hurt me badly, I did not have a heart of stone. I was very thankful that Arwen had purged me somewhat of my guilt yesterday. I would have crumbled into a pile of wretched Human flesh, had I learned of this for the first time from this Elven Lord, and I wished not to appear so vulnerable in his presence. Arwen had told me of this choice—this decision—but it was from her point of view. Hearing it now, from a parent's perspective, I could very well understand his pain and grief.
While what he had said the other day wounded me, I could understand his reasons now. It may take me a while to overcome my feelings of disdain for him, but I would try, nonetheless. He had known much pain. To think that this being—this Elf—had been in the world for thousands of years, was awe-inspiring. The numerous times and occasions he must have been hurt—and hurt much worse than what I had experienced at his words—were grievous to contemplate. I wondered at his life and wished I could know more of it. This mystery of Elven immortality was beyond my comprehension.
I took my hand from his shoulder and said soberly, "In light of your explanation, my earlier statement of denial concerning your apology was in error." I paused a few seconds before adding, "Apology accepted."
He turned to face me, gave me the slightest of smiles, and said, "Thank you, Maeren. I truly am sorry for hurting you. I can see now that I cast blame too harshly on you."
My brows knit together in puzzlement. "What do you mean, you see that now?"
Elrond helped me to my chair where I sat once again. He resumed his seat as well.
"After you left us the other day, my daughter gave me quite the talking to," he said. "I thought her ignorant of some of the words she used." He raised his eyebrows at the remembrance. "After she was finished taking me to task, she explained the situation as Aragorn had related it to her. She did not give me the chance to tell her that I had already browbeaten the information from you." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "My daughter is an exceptional person, do you not think so?"
"I certainly do think so, my lord," I said. "She is most gracious to say I am not to blame. I certainly feel blame, at least in part."
"Well," he began, "the advice I always try to convey to my children, is that events occur that cannot be changed. The only true alternative to lasting pain is acceptance of the situation and moving forward. It would indeed be considered lasting pain to an Elf, given how long we live, so to live with anger and resentment would truly be foolish. I think it would be best for all concerned if we did just that—accept the situation and dwell not in the past. The assignment of blame is unimportant in the vast scheme of this. The important thing from this time forward is seeing to your welfare and ensuring the birth of a healthy and happy child."
"I suppose you are right, my lord," I replied. "I will try to get beyond my hurt from your words. It may take some time, but I truly will attempt to forgive you." I smiled at him, unable to keep just the wee bit of facetiousness from my expression.
He smiled in return. A genuine smile. The first I had seen since I had met him at the banquet. I hoped to again reach the level of rapport with him that I felt we had then.
Elrond again began speaking. "I hope you will reconsider your decision about staying in Imladris during the time you await the child's birth. I would truly be honored for you to stay in our refuge. And I would be lying if I said I did not look forward to experiencing this process with you. Yes, I have seen Human birth before, but it has been long years. Unfortunately, Elves wish not to conceive during times of strife. It seems as if we have been in constant times of strife since the world began. That has obviously not been the case, though at times, it feels as if it has. It has been since the darkness again descended upon Middle Earth that we Elves have chosen to not bring our offspring into such discord. All Elflings born have long since reached maturity, and the Elves find themselves without young ones. That is certainly a loss to us. Children keep one young and for an Elf, that is saying much. But now, our time here is quickly over. We will all soon leave to the West—the Undying Lands. So, quite honestly, the birth of your and Aragorn's child, will probably be the last I may take part in. I would consider it a gift of great value were you to allow me to bear witness to your miracle."
I thought about that for a moment. I truly had no other place to go, and the thought of a beautiful and peaceful sanctuary, after all the ugliness of war here in Minis Tirith, was a welcome one.
"It is I who would be honored to be attended by a healer of your reputation during my confinement, "I said sincerely. "I hope the residual feelings of ill-will we may still harbor for one another, will not get in the way of our both enjoying this experience."
"The feelings will fade with time and familiarity, I believe," he said. "I find mine fading even as we speak."
"Mine also, my lord," I replied. A sudden thought entered my mind. Again, it seems, curiosity was going to get the better of me. "Did I not understand Arwen to say you were to leave two days ago?"
Elrond smiled, and said, "You understood correctly. We were to depart Minas Tirith then, but events being what they were, no one really felt like sundering themselves from my daughter. We have set our departure for a few months hence."
I wondered if my condition would cooperate with this new development. I was already three months along. If they waited any longer than a month, I would seriously doubt that there would be anyone to which this would be a secret. I had blossomed, so to speak, quite fully with Tristin. I saw no reason why this time would be any different.
I was not about to make more waves, so I decided to wait and see if someone not too caught up in the drama of this would catch the problem before it was too late. If they didn't, I certainly would make my worries known. I did not relish the idea of my condition becoming common knowledge. I would voice my concerns as soon as I met with the King and Queen again.
"I hate it that you had to change your plans," I said. "I have disrupted more lives than just my own, it seems."
Elrond chuckled and said, "I believe Estel had a hand in the disruption. Perhaps two hands, if I may be so mischievous to say."
I tried not to laugh, but it was indeed funny. I knew it would be unseemly for me to admit that, so I just smiled widely and blushed—not that I had any control over that, mind you.
"My lord," I said, "I am indeed shocked. You must refrain from your bawdy humor in my presence." I winked at him, unable to keep from conveying at least a bit, that I indeed appreciated a good jest when I heard it.
"I am afraid you are right," Elrond answered. "Forgive me. That was most inappropriate."
"I can say with certainty that I know now where Arwen gets her playful nature," I remarked.
"I know not about that." he said, "I am probably not blameless in molding her thusly, but her brothers certainly have had undue influence in her irreverence, I can assure you."
"No assurance of that on your part is necessary, my lord," I said with confidence. "I grew up with four older brothers, and I can tell you without doubt that they did indeed have great influence on my irreverence."
The Elf lord then stood, and held his hand out to me. I stood as well, and took his offered hand.
"I believe we may be well on our way to mending fences," Elrond said. "Do you agree?"
"I do agree, my lord," I replied.
He turned to leave, and added, "Elrond. Please, just call me Elrond. If we are to reside in the same household, I would expect our relationship to progress toward friendship. No need for formality in that case."
"As you wish, Elrond," I replied.
He bowed his head somewhat, turned, and left me alone with my thoughts.
Mending fences, indeed.
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