Cosmic Castaway: Thank you. I am very glad that you like the humor. I certainly enjoy trying to work it in!
Legosgurl: Events are moving back toward Lothlórien, so I promise you that Haldir and his brothers will reappear.
Huan Curthalion: I loved your review. Wish I'd written that! Hey, everybody, go read Huan Curthalion's review of Chapter 49. It is a hysterically funny analysis of what would have happened when those apples hit the target.
Grumpy: I should make sure that Glorfindel hears about that arithmetic problem. Probably he'll be strutting around bragging about his stats.
Kelly Kragen: You get your wish. Erestor and Marta put in an appearance in this chapter.
Dragonfly: Yes, Erestor pretty much held his own in the face of Aragorn's provocative question. Elladan and Elrohir (especially Elrohir—poetic justice!) bore the brunt of things. I think you are right that Glorfindel would have actually enjoyed the conversation, and as I said above to Grumpy, at some point I should make sure that the balrog-slayer hears about it.
JC-Puzzler: Alright, JC-Puzzler! I'll bet your Star Wars story is going to be great. After all, you can tell from your review that you've got a great sense of humor. And, ahem, since you were so complimentary toward my own story in your review, I hereby forgive you for being a lurker and absolve you from all shame and guilt pertaining thereunto. (With a flourish, author magnanimously signs indulgence and graciously presents it to penitent lurker.)
Elvendancer: I dunno, Elvendancer—when you read Huan Curthalion's take on what must have happened, it makes you feel that it was very unlikely that Aragorn could have done anything but cower!
Joee: If the fruit was soft, Aragorn would have been covered with applesauce rather than bruises. (This is another plug for Huan Curthalion's review.)
To Everybody: Yep, Aragorn was hit with 85 apples, hopefully ripe and rotten. (Yep, another plug—hey, folks, have you ever thought of reviews as an art form? You've got to admit that some reviews are really, really good—sometimes because they ask thoughtful questions, sometimes because they make insightful observations, sometimes because they are filled with humor. I know that I don't feel that a chapter is finished until folks have reviewed it. I guess it's kind of like a dialogue, and the conversation isn't complete until the reviewers have spoken.)
Beta Reader: Dragonfly.
Chapter 50: Between a Rock and a Hard Place
Elrohir was gloomy.
"Did you hear Thranduil talking to Ada at supper last night?"
"Yes," answered Elladan, equally gloomy. "In one week he departs for Mirkwood, and he takes Legolas with him."
Elrohir sighed.
"Do you think there is anything we can do to convince Thranduil to allow Legolas to remain?"
Elladan shook his head sadly.
"Elrohir, Thranduil has traveled all the way from Mirkwood for no other reason that to retrieve his son. He is not going to turn around and go back without him."
"Perhaps," suggested Elrohir, "we could convince Thranduil himself to remain, which of course would mean that Legolas would as well."
"I doubt it," said Elladan, again shaking his head. "From what he told Ada, he is very anxious to return to his realm."
"Maybe," mused Elrohir, "we can convince Ada to allow us to accompany Legolas to Mirkwood."
"Not very likely," said Elladan. "Ada was telling Glorfindel that he means to send us out shortly on some errand or another. I suppose that in a little while we will be summoned to receive instructions."
Elladan was right. At supper, Elrond told his two eldest sons that he wished to see them in his private chamber before they retired for the night. Obediently, they joined him after sundown.
"Ah, Elladan, Elrohir. Good," the elf lord said briskly. "Would you be prepared to ride out in a week?"
"Yes, Ada," chorused the twins, their eyes lighting up. Could it be a coincidence that Legolas, too, was riding out in a week?
Elrond laughed at their expressions.
"Yes," he said, smiling, "you will indeed be accompanying Legolas. But," he added, before his sons could break into excited speech, "you will not be riding all the way to Mirkwood. Thranduil intends to return to his home via Lothlórien. You will go that far with him. It is time for your sister Arwen to return home, and you will escort her from Lórien to Imladris. I hope you are not too disappointed."
"No," they exclaimed simultaneously. To spend more time with Legolas, and then to see their sister—how could they be disappointed?
"I am glad to hear that," said Elrond.
"But what of Aragorn?" asked Elladan. "Will he not be riding with us? He will be sorry to be parted from Legolas."
"True. But Halbarad has recovered from his injuries, and Aragorn will be going out on patrol with him."
"Then he is not to see Arwen?" said Elrohir.
"Of course he will," replied Elrond. "Aragorn will come back from patrol in several months, and Arwen should have returned with you by then. I suppose," he mused, "that Aragorn will not remember Arwen, as he was a toddler when they met. Indeed, I also doubt that Arwen will be able to recognize Aragorn, so changed he is from the grubby little lad that he was. When they meet, they will be as strangers to one another."
Elrohir grinned.
"Ada, it is true that Aragorn is no longer a' little lad', but as for grubby…."
The three Elves shared a laugh. Then Elrond arose and walked to the window to gaze out into the garden. He spied Aragorn fencing with Legolas. "No, no longer a 'little lad'," he said thoughtfully. "Even were it not for the fuzz on his chin, it would be plain that he is a Man. Look how he more than holds his own against Legolas' attempts to thrust past his guard."
"Legolas is a master archer, and no Elf is more skilled at two-bladed fighting," said Elladan, "but even Legolas is no match for Aragorn with a sword."
"That is true," agreed Elrohir.
"Yes," said Elrond. "It is for him, I think, that the shards of Narsil will at last be reforged into the blade that will restore the lands of Gondor and Arnor to their former glory. And that will be the end of the glory of the Elves," he added sadly.
"It will be the end of our glory in Middle-earth," returned Elladan. "But not the end of our tale altogether. And we will leave something of ourselves behind. Aragorn is after all a descendant of Elros."
Elrond shook off his gloom.
"True," he said briskly. "In Arda, something of the Elves will remain forever. And we will bring away with us many memories of this place, memories that will never fade."
Elladan and Elrohir bade their father farewell and went out into the garden to tell Legolas that they were riding with him as far as Lothlórien.
"Excellent!" enthused Legolas. Then he turned to Aragorn. "I am only sorry that you will not be accompanying us, Estel."
"I will be sorry to part from you, Legolas, but I am sure that we journey together on another occasion. Now I should retire for the night. Halbarad and I leave early tomorrow."
"Go well, Aragorn," Legolas and the twins wished him.
"Stay well, my friends," replied Aragorn.
The next morning Halbarad and Aragorn slipped out of Rivendell before dawn. They traveled on foot, for they would be journeying into broken terrain where a horse would be of little use.
"Moreover," Halbarad pointed out, "your elven horse would attract too much attention when we do visit the settlements of Men. It is far too fine a horse to be ridden by a roughly garbed Rider. Our disreputable appearance is our disguise, for we attract little attention—and certainly no one ever thinks of attacking us in order to reive us of our goods!"
A week after the departure of the Dúnedain, Thranduil took his leave, taking with him his son Legolas, of course. The night before, Legolas sat long with Elrond, whom he considered his second father, although he now addressed him by his given name, as did Aragorn.
"Elrond, I am glad to be reunited with my father, and I return to Mirkwood willingly, but at the same time I wish I did not have to leave Rivendell. I will soon see Mithrandir again, for he will undoubtedly journey to Mirkwood sometime in the near future. You, however, will not."
"Mithrandir," mused Elrond, "is probably one of the few who will journey overmuch in the coming years. Aragorn as well, I think. The rest of us more and more shall be trapped within our little realms by the growing power of the forces of the Dark Lord."
"Elrohir and Elladan mean to ride out after their return from Lórien."
"Yes. As long as an Orc still breathes in Middle-earth, they will ride out."
"I would do so as well," said Legolas, "but I think Thranduil will keep me close."
"Yet you will elude him in the end," said a familiar voice.
"Ah, Mithrandir," said Elrond. "Come in."
"I am already in," replied the wizard airily. "So, Legolas, tomorrow you depart for Mirkwood."
"Yes, Mithrandir. And you will shortly once again set out for the Shire, is that not so?"
"Yes. I mean to arrange to have more Watchers placed upon its borders. The raid that you and Aragorn were caught up in was rather too near the mark. I don't intend to let any other marauders draw near undescried."
"Mithrandir," began Legolas.
"No," said the wizard.
"But you haven't heard me out!" exclaimed Legolas. "How do you know what I was going to ask?"
"You were about to ask me what treasure is hidden in the Shire that attracted the attention of those marauders."
"Yes," conceded Legolas.
"No," said Mithrandir cheerfully.
"No?"
"No, I won't tell you anything."
"Mithrandir," Legolas began again.
"No," said the wizard calmly.
"But—"
"You were about to ask me why I won't tell you anything."
Elrond laughed and raised his glass in a salute to the Istar.
"Give over the attempt, Legolas. He is not going to answer any of your questions."
"Not tonight, anyway," said Gandalf. "But if it is any consolation, Legolas, although I tell you nothing, neither have I confided in Elrond or Galadriel. Indeed, I have not even gone to Saruman, the head of my order, for counsel in this matter."
Legolas thought that the latter was a wise choice on the part of the wizard, but of course he kept his opinion to himself.
"If I knew for certain," Gandalf murmured, more to himself than to his two friends, "but as I do not, it is too soon to speak." He roused himself. "Well, Elrond, aren't you going to offer me a glass of that wine? As a host, you are somewhat lacking tonight."
"Why, Mithrandir," retorted Elrond, "as you saw fit to show yourself into my chamber, I thought you likewise might prefer to have the honor of serving yourself your own glass of wine."
"Well said," chuckled Gandalf.
"I am going to miss that laugh," Legolas thought to himself. "It is true that Mithrandir will visit Mirkwood, but I will not see him as often as I would if I were to remain in Rivendell." He sighed.
"Ah," said Gandalf shrewdly. "Homesick already?"
"You must admit, Mithrandir," Elrond pointed out, "that Legolas is bound to suffer more from homesickness than most Elves. Whilst he is in Mirkwood, he cannot help but long for Rivendell; in Rivendell, he cannot help but miss Mirkwood."
"Someday, Legolas, all those whom you love shall be gathered together in the Undying Lands," said the wizard.
"But then I shall miss Arda itself," retorted Legolas, smiling a little, but wistfully.
"Moreover," said Elrond, "it is not at all certain that all will journey to the Undying Lands. Perhaps some whom Legolas loves will remain behind. It is also possible," he added softly, "that some whom I love will likewise remain behind. Indeed, I am certain that that will be so."
For this Gandalf had no reply.
The next morning Elrond and Gandalf stood before the Hall to bid the company farewell. Only the wizard seemed unmoved by the parting.
"You would think this lot were setting out for Mordor," he chided Elrond as Thranduil and the others rode away. "Only Legolas will be going that way, and not for several more years."
"What!" gasped Elrond, appalled. "You cannot mean that!"
"In Galadriel's Mirror I have seen Legolas standing before the Gates of Mordor."
"But he will come away unharmed, will he not?"
"That I do not know," said Gandalf soberly.
"But yesterday you told him that all those whom he loves shall someday be gathered together in the Undying Lands. Those were your very words!"
"Yes," said Gandalf unhappily, "but I did not say that Legolas himself would be there with them."
"Then by all means we must prevent him from making such a journey!"
"Elrond, he is fated to make that journey, I think. If we tried to stop him, we should fail. And if we did not fail, doubtless things would turn out ill for many besides Legolas."
Silently, the two friends turned and together reentered the Hall.
Legolas, however, had no knowledge of this conversation and was in great spirits, as were all his friends. The company rode south, parallel to the Misty Mountains. They meant to stay in the valley lands to the west of the Mountains until it came time to cross the pass to Lothlórien. Thus they would journey through Eregion and into Dunland. Hyge and Malinka rode with them, for the two Dunlendings were returning to their home. Marta, however, was going to stay on in Rivendell for a time. Erestor had begun to teach her to read, and she had begged leave to remain in order to continue these lessons.
"Hyge," she had said to her brother, "if I learn to read well, then I can return to Dunland and teach the others. I could teach you! It's a grand thing to be able to read, for it is harder for folk to cheat you. You can't be tricked into making your mark on a paper that lays out ill terms that you will be forced to abide by."
"That is true," said Hyge. "Alright, then. You remain here and learn as much as you can. That Elf is a good teacher, is he not?"
"Oh, an excellent teacher. He is very patient and explains everything carefully."
Marta spoke truly. Erestor, who had been so irascible when he had had Legolas and the twins in his care, was quite gentle with Marta. He never scolded or rebuked her when she made an error, and of course she made many, for she lacked even the most rudimentary elements of an education. Observing Erestor's transformation, Elrond was both amused and alarmed.
"You are taking great pains over Marta's lessons, Erestor."
"Of course," replied the tutor. "You know that whatever I do, I pride myself on doing it well."
"Yes, although I must say that you seem to have adopted different teaching methods than those you employed with Elrohir, Elladan, and Legolas. Indeed, even when Estel was at his youngest, you treated him much more strictly than you do Marta."
"Ah, but Marta is a girl, you see."
"Meaning?"
"Elrond, surely you must know that one must be gentle with girls."
"Erestor, I remember you admonishing me to be strict with Arwen. Aye, and she was naught but a tiny little elleth when you advised me so."
"Arwen is elven; Marta is human. Humans are not immortal and must therefore be treated with the greatest of care."
"May I point out that Estel is human as well, and you were never so solicitous of his welfare."
"Really, Elrond," Erestor replied impatiently, "one could have dropped a rock on Estel's head and he would have suffered no harm. Indeed, didn't Legolas do that one time?"
"Yes, although quite by accident, of course."
"And did Estel suffer an injury?"
"Actually, Erestor, he developed quite a lump on his head."
"A lump on his head!" scoffed the tutor. "But I'll warrant his brains were unaffected—or at least no more addled than they were to start with."
Elrond had to allow that Aragorn's mental faculties had been unaffected by the accidental 'rocking'. Fortunately, Aragorn had merely been hit by a ricochet. Elrond shook his head and sighed as he remembered the incident. Truly, it had been more Elrohir's fault than Legolas's. Legolas was younger than Elrohir but had the unfortunate habit of besting Elrohir at archery whenever they were paired on the training field. Actually, Legolas bested everyone he was paired with, but apparently this was no consolation to Elrohir. One day, irritated at having been once again 'shown up' by the younger Elf—for that is how Elrohir viewed matters—Elrohir had begun to taunt Legolas about his parentage, or lack thereof, to be more precise.
"Tell me, Anomen," he jeered, "did you lose your Adar and your Naneth, or did they lose you?"
Legolas said nothing, concentrating instead on locating the source of a birdsong.
Elrohir again tried to goad him.
"I imagine," he said, "that it is more likely that they lost you. If you lost them, you'd go looking for them, but if they lost you, no doubt they would have taken advantage of the situation and hastened as far away as possible."
"You shouldn't speak so, Elrohir!" admonished Elladan.
"I'm not saying anything so very dreadful," retorted Elrohir. "Everyone knows that Anomen doesn't have a father or a mother. That's why he must subsist on the charity of our father."
Anomen had gone so pale that his lips had turned blue. It seemed to Elladan that he had stopped breathing.
"That's alright, Anomen," Elladan said hastily. "Elrohir and I don't have a Naneth, neither."
"Yes," interjected Elrohir, "but everyone knows why we don't have one. No one knows anything about Anomen's mother. I wonder if he ever had one. For all we know, he came out from under a rock, like some lowly Dwarf."
With that, Legolas snatched up an actual rock and flung it at Elrohir, who fortunately was able to leap aside in spite of his amazement at the younger Elf's response. Anomen was always so quiet and restrained. Hitherto he had preferred to make himself scarce rather than confront his tormenter.
Aragorn was standing nearby—he was Estel then—and when Elrohir leaped aside, the rock had hit the tree behind him, bounced off, and struck Aragorn in the head. Fortunately, it was not a very large rock. Moreover, young Estel sported a very thick thatch of hair. And, again, it was a ricochet. The youngster was knocked down, but he sprang up almost instantly, bellowing in anger rather than crying in pain. He had always been a stoic little fellow.
The moment the rock had hit Estel, Legolas had turned around and marched straight to Elrond's private chamber. Reaching it, he pounded on the door as if he were a scout hastening to report an Orc incursion. "Enter," called a concerned Elrond. The elf lord was surprised when a grim-faced Anomen marched into his chamber.
"I hit Estel in the head with a rock," announced Legolas. He offered neither explanation, excuse, nor apology. Instead, he abruptly turned about and marched away again, making for the ancient oak tree that provided him sanctuary whenever he was upset or frightened.
"Well," said Elrond to himself, "at least he did not take fright and run away. So he is willing to await the outcome of matters. An improvement, that."
Just at that moment, Elrond again heard pounding upon his door.
"Enter," he said warily.
Elladan burst in. As soon as he had been sure that Estel was alright, he had raced after Legolas.
"WasnthisfaultAdaElrohirwastormentinghimpastbearinghedidntmeantohitEstelhewastryingtohitElrohirandElrohirdeservedit!"
Elrond could feel his eyebrows creeping up toward his hairline.
"Let us take this one step at a time. First, is Estel alright?"
"Yes."
"Good. Now, Anomen threw a rock?"
"Yes, but not at Estel!"
"He threw it at Elrohir?"
"Yes! And Elrohir deserved it. 'Twould have served him right if Anomen had dropped a boulder upon his head!"
Elrond knew that his eyebrows had arrived at his hairline, and he hoped he would not lose them altogether.
"Whatever did Elrohir do to deserve being struck with a rock—let alone a boulder?"
Swiftly, Elladan recited the insults that Elrohir had flung at Legolas. Elrond was horrified. With an effort, he kept his face impassive.
"Given what Elrohir was flinging," he thought to himself, "he is lucky that Anomen didn't fling back something more dangerous than a rock!" Aloud he said, "Elrohir was very wrong to say those things. Anomen was wrong to throw the rock. There are other ways of settling such disputes."
"But," said Elladan hopefully, "don't you think Elrohir was more wrong than Anomen? Surely you don't mean to punish them both!"
"It is not necessary to compare their respective offenses, Elladan," Elrond replied patiently. "I shall assign Elrohir a task commensurate with his misdeed. I shall treat Anomen likewise. Do you not trust me to be fair and just?"
"Yes, Ada," said Elladan resignedly. "Do you want me to fetch them?"
"Bring Anomen to me, and then in a little while bring me Elrohir. Do you know where Anomen is?"
"In his oak tree, I should think."
"No doubt you are right. Be off with you, now—and Elladan."
"Yes, Ada?"
"Do not fear. I shall do nothing to frighten Anomen away."
Elladan heaved a very full sigh of relief. Given Anomen's past history of running away, Elladan had indeed feared that if Elrond treated his friend and foster-brother harshly, Anomen would 'take to the trees' for good.
A little while later, Elladan stood looking up into the oak tree.
"Anomen," he called, "Ada wants to see you."
No answer.
"Anomen, I know you are up there. It is true that I cannot hear the trees as clearly as you can, but I could catch snatches of their gossip as I came along. They all know you are in the oak tree."
Still no answer.
"Very well. If you won't come down to me, then I'll climb up to you."
Elladan sprang up to seize hold of a branch, but the oak tree, ever protective of Anomen, quickly pulled the limb aside. Missing his grasp, Elladan fell to the ground. "Ow!" he cried.
Anomen instantly showed himself.
"Are you alright, Elladan?" he called anxiously, peering down from a branch far above.
Elladan tried to stand up but fell down with another cry of pain.
"I think I may have twisted my ankle," he grimaced.
"I'm sorry," Anomen said contritely. "I'll be right down to help you."
Within seconds, Anomen was standing on the ground next to Elladan. He looked about until he found a stout stick.
"Here. You can lean on my shoulder and also put some of your weight upon this staff."
Thus supported by Anomen, Elladan hobbled toward the Hall. By the time they neared it, Elrohir had already come out of hiding and, shamefaced, crept to his father's chamber. He had tapped timidly upon the door and had received in reply a dispassionate "Enter." Now, as father and son were talking, Elrond's back was to the window, but Elrohir could see past him out into the garden. So it was that he spied Anomen carefully helping the injured Elladan limp toward home. Anomen's concern and gentleness were plain to see, as was Elladan's gratitude. Elrohir began to cry. Elrond was nonplussed. He had been speaking sternly but, he had thought, with gentleness.
"Yonder is my twin," sobbed Elrohir. "He is hurt, and Anomen is helping him."
Elrond turned about and spying the pair in the garden understood Elrohir's distress. It was not only at archery that Elrohir feared being bested. Elrond laid a hand on Elrohir's shoulder.
"Come. We can talk of this matter later. For now, let us go and help bring Elladan to his chamber."
Later that evening, Elrond at last apportioned out the tasks that each miscreant would have to perform.
"Elrohir," he said to that twin as the young Elf stood anxiously before him. "Elladan will have to stay off his injured foot for a fortnight. As you are the one who set in motion the chain of events that led to his being hurt, I deem that it is you who should wait upon him. You must stay by his side for the next two weeks. You will be responsible for entertaining him and keeping him comfortable. Can you do this?"
"Oh, yes, Ada!" exclaimed Elrohir, struggling to look downcast. Two uninterrupted weeks in which to renew his friendship with Elladan and prove to him that he was a caring brother! What luck!
"Now go to Elladan and send Anomen in to me."
"Yes, Ada," said Elrohir, hurrying to fulfill his father's behest before he might reconsider his 'punishment'.
"Anomen," he called as he entered Elladan's chamber, where Anomen waited. "Ada wants to see you now." In his happiness he was suddenly moved to make amends. "Anomen, I am sorry I spoke so to you—truly I am."
Anomen looked doubtfully at Elrohir, and the latter suddenly realized that he had something to prove to Anomen as well as Elladan.
"I will do it," he vowed to himself after Anomen had left the room.
This time Anomen's knock on Elrond's door was not bold, but the answering voice was a gentle one. Encouraged, Anomen lifted the latch and went in.
"No doubt," began Elrond, "you are as accurate in flinging rocks as you are in shooting arrows, so I suppose Elrohir might have been hurt rather badly if he hadn't leaped aside. Even though you were angry, you wouldn't truly have wanted that, would you?"
"No, my Lord" said Anomen softly.
"And you didn't want to hurt Estel, either, did you? And do call me Ada. I am not 'your Lord' but your foster-father."
"Yes, my—Ada. I mean, yes, you are my foster-father, but, no, I didn't want to hurt Estel."
"So hasty actions are not always wise ones, are they? And this is so even if the motivation for the actions may be just."
"You are right, Ada. Hasty actions are most assuredly not wise ones!"
"Good. We are agreed. To help you remember this lesson, you will have a task that cannot be done hastily. The Gardener has asked that someone be assigned to remove the rocks from the ground he has lately broken for the expansion of the garden. You shall collect those rocks and carefully arrange them into a wall around the new plot. I judge this task will take you at least a fortnight. Does that seem fair?"
"Yes, Ada," replied Anomen, relieved that the task was not more onerous. He liked being in the garden.
"By the time Anomen has finished building that wall," Elrond said to himself after the young Elf had departed the chamber, "he should be thoroughly cured of any impulse he may have to pick up any rocks in the future." Satisfied with his judgment, he poured himself a congratulatory glass of wine and settled down to look over some correspondence that he had cast aside in order to deal with the family crisis.
It is true that Anomen never again felt tempted to hit Elrohir in the head with a rock, but perhaps not for the reason that Elrond had at first assumed. For Anomen did not spend nearly as many hours on his task as Elrond had judged would be required. Whenever Elladan dozed, Elrohir slipped out into the garden and helped Anomen gather the rocks and arrange them into a sturdy, attractive wall. At first Anomen was leery of Elrohir's presence in the garden, but after a few days, the two were laughing and singing as they worked. Elrond caught frequent sight of them from his window, but he never let on. The joint building of the wall was, he felt, a fitting conclusion to the incident, and he knew that more than a wall was being constructed.
"Elrond!"
Erestor's impatient voice broke into Elrond's reverie.
"Elrond, you have not heard a word I have said these past several minutes."
"True, my friend," said Elrond apologetically. "I was remembering that time when Legolas hit Aragorn with the rock. You were saying?"
"I was saying that it is true that Estel was young and a human, but as young as he was, he had been subjected to some discipline in terms of studies. His mother had taught him his letters. Marta, however, has never had a lesson in her life, and it is for that reason that I am not as strict with her. She is not only a child, but one who has never had to accommodate herself to the classroom."
"A child, you say. Is that why you bow to her, kiss her hand, and call her 'My Lady'?"
"I am merely being polite."
"Odd that you have never felt the need to demonstrate such politeness to Malinka."
"To Malinka!" spluttered Erestor. "Don't be ridiculous. Malinka is only a child."
"Exactly," said Elrond coolly. "She is a child, and you treat her as a child, that is to say, you treat her differently from Marta. This fact suggests to me that you perceive one but not the other as a child. Can you give me any reason to believe otherwise?"
This speech of Elrond's forced Erestor to see his behavior in a new light. The tutor was intellectually honest to a fault and could not entirely ignore an argument that so demonstrably had the force of logic behind it.
"Very well, then. Marta is a young lady, and a delightful one. Although she has hitherto received no formal education, she is clever and perceptive. I enjoy her company."
"You enjoy my company as well," observed Elrond dryly, "but I rather suspect that you feel a little differently toward me than toward Marta."
"I'm sure that I do," said Erestor. "I feel protective toward her, and I am hardly inclined to feel that way toward you! Moreover, Marta is pleasant to look upon, and, although you are handsome enough, I have always found myself inclined toward the female ideal of beauty."
"Ah hah," said Elrond, "now we come to it! Erestor, I very much fear that you may become attached to Marta in the wrong sort of way. I know that over the centuries you have grown fond of all your pupils, but never in a romantic sense. Have a care that you do not do so in this case."
"And why should I not?" asked Erestor defiantly. "My affections are mine to bestow where I will."
"Erestor, there is too much of a gap between the two of you. You are thousands of years old; she young enough so that you were briefly able to fool yourself into thinking that your gallant words and gestures had no import. Yet she will be an agéd woman in a span of time that would be as nothing to an Elf. For you are immortal; she is human. Like the sun, you will shine for thousands of years; she is destined to pass like a meteor through the sky, her life brilliant, perhaps, but brief."
"You surprise me, Elrond. You yourself are Peredhil, half-elven. Do you mean to suggest that your ancestors made an ill choice?"
"Say merely," said Elrond steadily, "that my ancestry has made me keenly aware of the pain attendant to love between the mortal and the immortal—pain for both the lovers and their family and kin."
So earnest was Elrond's manner that Erestor could not but listen.
"I will keep what you say in mind, Elrond," he assured his friend. "But," he added, "I must warn you that I may concede the truth of what you say and yet act contrary to your advice. In a matter such as this, I may not be altogether subject to the dictates of logic."
"I am content," replied Elrond. "All I ask of you is that you be aware of what you are doing and mindful of the possible repercussions."
"On that we are agreed," said Erestor.
"Excellent!" laughed Elrond. "For I should very much hate having to hit you in the head with a rock, my friend."
Erestor stared at him, befuddled for a moment, and then caught his drift and began to laugh as well. Arm in arm, and joined by a congeniality of spirit, the two Elves strolled off to the garden to enjoy the last hour of sunset in a plot surrounded by a wall that had been built years ago by two other friends who had had their disagreements but who in the end had remained steadfast one to the other.