bThe Dam Breaks – Part 2/b

By Sister Sárie

iTo Reona/i

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A/N: I know there was no village near Rivendell… Tolkien made a point that Rivendell was located in "wilderness", and there probably wouldn't have been any villages nearby. And even if there were, probably not human villages. And even if there was a village of men, it probably wouldn't have had an elvish name. But in my story there is a village of men with an elvish name… What can I say? I want to write a story that shows Elrond's general niceness towards everyone, and I needed a location for my next disaster. I'm a fan fic author, I'm evil: I can do this stuff. : P And there's no fundamental reason why there really, definitely could *not* have been a village, it's not like I'm writing a second daughter of Elrond named Sárie to this story…

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Elrond and his escort rode in haste along the small path through the forest above the gorge. They were approaching Imlond swiftly, and Elrond was still uncertain about what he would tell the villagers.

He wondered if he should have gathered a larger escort in case the reception would turn particularly hostile. Well, there was no sense in worrying about it now, they were already on their way, and there was no time to turn back. They might be late as it was.

Elrond kept stretching his hearing, expecting the horrible sound of the rushing water at any moment. But the forest was silent besides the sounds of the hoof beats and a few birds.

Suddenly Elrond sensed they were being watched. He glanced around without turning his head, and managed to make out the shapes of two young boys, swiftly disappearing between the trees, running towards the village.

They came out of the forest shortly after this and saw the village on the other side of a small field. Elrond raised a hand and the horses slowed down. They had gotten halfway across the field when the villagers came.

The men were walking in the front, followed by the women a short distance away. The children and the elderly were huddled together at the back. Many of the men were carrying weapons.

Elrond's guards started to reach for their bows, but Elrond shook his head, giving them a warning look. They were here to help the villagers, not to hurt them, and he would do anything he could to avoid a conflict.

He lifted his hand again briefly, and the horses came to a halt. The villagers, in turn, did the same, and the two groups stood there in silence for a while, inspecting each other.

Finally, just when Elrond was preparing to speak, a man took a few steps forward from the group, and lifted his head challengingly.

"We shall not be defeated, elf-witches!" he said in a voice loud enough to be heard by everyone.

Elrond looked at the man calmly for a moment. Then he dismounted, and handed the reigns to one of his guards. He took a few steps of his own towards the man, and some of the villagers drew back a little.

Elrond sighed. The foolishness of these people annoyed him, but he also felt pity towards them. He truly did not wish to frighten them. He kept judging the man who had spoken; apparently he was their leader. He was a large, strong looking man with a long red hair and beard.

"I am Elrond of Rivendell", he finally said, "Who am I speaking to?"

The man's eyes widened in fear, but he composed himself quickly. Elrond could hear someone groan, and when he looked past the man to the crowd he could see an old woman make a sign of protection against an evil eye.

"Do not give him your name, he will use it to cast a spell upon you!" yelled someone from the crowd.

The red haired man crossed his arms over his chest, and remained silent.

"We mean you no harm", Elrond continued, "We have come here to help you".

"We need not your help, elf-witch", the man replied.

Suddenly a boy – or a young man already – emerged from the crowd.

"Arran, no!" screamed a voice of a woman, but the boy did not stop.

Swiftly he picked up a rock, and before anyone could stop him he had thrown it towards Elrond.

His guards acted with speed. With a blur one of them had pulled an arrow from his quiver, and shot the stone, which changed its direction and landed a good distance away from their Lord.

Two men ran to the boy and started to drag him away.

"Elf –witch!" the boy screamed, "You have stolen our water!"

Elrond thought about the empty riverbed and understood what they boy meant immediately. He wondered if there was any way to convince these people that Elrond was here to help them. He had to get the humans out of the village one way or another.

The situation was going from bad to worse at the moment. Elrond's guards all had arrows ready, and the men were readying their weapons also. Elrond knew his people would not shoot against his orders, but the men seemed to be prepared to fight to their deaths.

The boy was still screaming:

"Shoot them! Kill them now!"

"Enogh!"

Another voice silenced the boy, and everyone froze. The crowd split to reveal an old woman. Slowly, leaning heavily to a walking stick, she walked to stand next to the red-haired man.

"There will be no killing in here!", she said sternly to the crowd, and then turned to look at Elrond.

"Greetings, Lord of the Elven Folk", she said to him, "Do you still remember me?"

Elrond was puzzled for a moment. Certainly he had never met this old woman before. He looked deep into the eyes of the woman, and then he remembered.

"Malla?" he cried out, surprised, "It must be more than a hundred years!"

The old woman laughed. "One hundred and seven, to be precise", she replied, "My memory is not what it used to be, but I shall never forget that day for as long as I live!"

Elrond recalled the bright autumn day when he and his escort had been following the same path they had travelled today, on their way to Isengard; and the human child – so alike to young Brithla – sitting on a rock, crying.

He also remembered her frightened voice: "Please do not eat me, elves! I did not mean to get lost!"

Malla turned to the red-haired man, and started to explain:

"I was but a little girl then, gathering berries in the woods with my mother and aunt. I wandered too far away from them and lost them. The elves found me and helped me to find my way back to this field".

The villagers stared at her in disbelief, and fear.

"They were very kind to me", Malla continued, "And none of them had any desire to eat me!"

The red-haired man finally managed to speak:

"Mother! You never told me!"

"I never told anyone", Malla explained, "You would have thought me mad".

She turned back to face Elrond again.

"Lord of Rivendell, this is my son Habar. Our house is yours".

"And mine is yours", Elrond accepted the offer of friendship with a small bow.

"I assure you we do not invade your village light-heartedly", he continued, "A thread is upon both, your people and mine, and we are here to warn you".

Habar cleared his throat, embarrassed. It was obvious he did not trust the elves, but he also seemed reluctant to question his mother. Elrond concluded Malla held great power in the village.

And it was she who spoke up again, while her son was still battling his bigotry: "Perhaps you would care to come to our home, and tell us about this thread over a dinner".

"I thank you for your kind offer", replied Elrond, "But I fear we do not have much time".

He glanced at the women, children and elderly, who had slowly approached the elves. They seemed more curious than fearful now; apparently Malla indeed held a great power among them, and her calm manner had calmed them down too.

"We do not steal your water", Elrond explained to all of them, "As a matter of fact I would be quite happy if the waters would continue down their original path instead of flooding my realm".

Everyone was listening intently, as he continued:

"The streams of Loudwater lost their ice-cover this week. But instead of floating away from the valley, the ice is caught to an entrance to a gorge, forming a dam that holds the waters firmly behind it. We cannot destroy the dam, because that would flood your village".

There was muttering around him now. Elrond could hear sentences like "Since when have the elves cared about our well-being" and "It's a trick, remember me saying so…".

"Unfortunately the dam is unstable, and can break at any moment", Elrond kept talking, ignoring the others. He knew Malla was listening, and that was all he needed right now.

"If the dam indeed breaks, your homes will be washed into the river. My people are currently trying to dig a channel around the dam, but we know not if we will finish it in time. I am willing to offer you shelter in Rivendell until the channel is ready and you can return to your homes safely".

Elrond noticed this startled his escort. They had clearly not been expecting his offer, and seemed reluctant to welcome the humans to their valley. Elrond was not overly-enthusiastic about inviting these people to their home either, but he also knew he could not turn his back to them when he was able to help them.

The humans, on the other hand, were more than reluctant.

"We will not leave our home!" exclaimed one of the armed men.

"You are a fool if you expect us to follow you on your word", said Habar, "How do we know you did not construct a dam and make up this as an excuse only to lure us to your valley?"

Elrond sighed. "You are free to go to the gorge and inspect the dam yourself, perhaps then you can see the danger too".

"We will come nowhere near the borders of your realm, elf-witch!" shouted another man.

Elrond was getting very tired of being called an elf-witch by now. Besides, he had done what he saw was his duty and warned these people. It was up to them to decide should they take his advice and offer.

"I shall not force you", he said tiredly, "I have given you a warning, if you choose to ignore it that is your own mistake".

Malla had been silent during the whole conversation, but now she finally spoke up:

"Your warning has not been ignored, Lord of the Elves". She turned to her people and continued: "The elves have let us live in peace for centuries. Never have they done anything to harm us, on the contrary: they even gave food for a tired, hungry and lost little child a hundred years ago. Why should they now try to lure us to anything?

"I believe what they say to be true, and that is why I have decided to go to Rivendell. You can do as you wish, stay or follow me, but choose swiftly. If the dam indeed is not safe, then we do not have much time".

With that she started to make her way back to the village.

"If you care to wait for one moment, I will gather a few personal belongings with me", she said to Elrond over her shoulder.

Elrond watched in awe as the people began to consider Malla's words.

"I suppose there's no harm in going to see the dam", said one of the armed men to the others, "There are only three of them, and we all carry weapons".

"Only three? There must be dozens of them up on the mountains, perhaps they have set a trap to the gorge?" Another man suspected.

"Well, old Malla trusts them", a third man piped up, "She has never been wrong!"

"We need some food", a woman told to another one, who was holding a baby, "And plenty of warm clothes, the weather is changing again. This night will be cold".

"Do you suppose we can use their dishes?" replied the young mother.

"I will not leave my silver cutlery!" told a third woman to the world.

Elrond smiled to himself and returned to his guards. His respect towards Malla grew every moment. The old woman had a great psychological eye.

"Should we help them?" asked one of his guards and earned some disbelieving glances from his companions.

Elrond shook his head. "I do not believe they are willing to accept too much help from us just yet".

"I am not sure I'm willing to offer any", another guard said with a grimace.

Elrond looked up sharply at this. He read the same emotions from the third guard's face, and was suddenly ashamed of his people. He reminded himself that the humans had been rather impolite, but could not let this remark pass:

"It seems these mortals are not the only ones plagued by prejudice", he spoke softly, "I have known you for a long time, Aradhain, and I refuse to believe you have allowed your heart to grow so cold not to offer help to those who need it".

Aradhain lowered his gaze in shame. "I apologize, my Lord, I spoke without thinking".

Elrond nodded. "Fair enough. These people are not so different from us, once you get to know them you might actually learn to like them. But even if they were different, that would not justify us abandoning them. I want you to remember this, always".

The guards nodded like little elflings who had been lectured, and Elrond chuckled inwardly. Then he noticed the children.

There were two of them, a boy and a girl, maybe 4-year-olds. They had sneaked to take a closer look at the elves when their parents and every other adult in the village were too busy collecting their belongings. The expressions on their small faces were those of admiration, all fear was gone.

"They're so pretty", whispered the girl to the boy, who in turn nudged her.

"Shhh, they can hear us".

"Can they understand us?"

"Well, I saw the black-haired one talking to grand-mother".

Elrond and the others had been speaking Sindarin together. The elf lord gave the children a kind smile and knelt down to the ground to be at their level.

"I can understand you", he said, "You can come closer, we will not harm you".

The children hesitated, but their curiosity was greater than their shyness. Slowly they approached Elrond.

"What's your name?" the boy asked while inspecting Elrond from head to toe.

"Elrond".

"Oh"

The children continued to examine him in silence.

"And what are your names?" Elrond finally said. He felt he must speak up or else he would start to laugh. The seriousness of the little humans was touching.

"I'm Ilta", said the boy absent-mindedly, not moving his eyes from Elrond's mithril-circlet, "And she's Aamu".

The girl leaned closer to the boy, and whispered something to his ear so softly even the elves could not hear her.

"Don't be silly, you can't do that", the boy hissed. Elrond raised an inquiring eyebrow at him.

"She wants to know if she can touch your hair", Ilta looked embarrassed.

To his surprise, Elrond began to laugh. "If you really want to, of course you can!"

Aamu smiled happily and ran to Elrond. He bent his head a little, and carefully the small girl ran her fingers through his black locks.

"'s so soft", she muttered in awe.

Her brother had been hesitating for a while, but now he also approached the elf lord. He seemed unable to draw his eyes away from the circlet.

"That's a nice crown", he told Elrond. The elf observed him for a moment, and then made his decision.

Slowly he raised his hands to his head and un-did his braids, carefully untangling the circlet from his hair and offering it to Ilta.

"Why don't you take a closer look".

He watched a small smile on his lips when the boy turned the circlet around in his hands, eyes wide in amazement. He drew back a little and blinked when a tiny finger nearly poked his eye out; Aamu had left his hair and was now brushing her hand down his face.

"So soft…" she repeated.

A raspy chuckle made Elrond look up. Malla had returned, carrying a small bag on her shoulder, and was watching her grand-children in amusement.

"Perhaps there is still hope for a friendship between men and elves", she laughed.

"There is always hope", Elrond replied with twinkling eyes.

TBC…

This chapter may seem a bit random, but I will explain more about Imlond and its people in the next one. I wanted to get the story finally updated, so I didn't make this chapter as long as I originally intended to… Now when it's finally weekend again I might actually have time to write! I have the story in my head, it's the typing that takes the time…