Chapter Twenty-Nine: Return to Innocence
Elrohir watched as Mélanyë slept. At first he just studied her face, noting the scars that didn't belong, that her hair had grown a little longer since he'd seen her last, and most disturbingly, the bandages on her wrists and forehead. He felt as one who had, after receiving back a stolen item, found that it had been damaged. Everything about her was different. He assumed from her clothes that she had been to Lorien, and saw that she had been in a battle. He let out a wry chuckle at the thought. Little Mélanyë in battle? Absurd!
He had removed her pack and her weapons and now studied her bow in his hands. He wondered where she had gotten it and who had inscribed the blessing in the smooth wood. He also found Lindir's book in her pack. He read a few lines, but closed it again, seeing that it was a private book for her. Seeing it, however, raised more questions. Where was Lindir? And if she had found Haldir's team, why was she no longer with them? And most importantly, if they were heading to Rohan, how did she end up in Bree?
Just then Mélanyë stirred in her sleep. Elrohir stood and picked up the cool cloth Nob had given him, smoothing it over her face. Her eyes opened slowly, scanning her unfamiliar surroundings with growing fear. She turned her head and started in surprise as she saw Elrohir. Neither spoke. He reached beside him for a pitcher of water and poured a glass for Mélanyë. She sat up and took it from him gingerly, as if unsure whether he was angry with her or not. She sat with her head bowed and waited for him to begin.
"You're looking better than you were," he said as he got up. He went to the door and called softly for someone, speaking briefly with them before closing the door and sitting back down. He looked on her doubtful expression and smiled warmly. "No, I'm not angry with you, Mélanyë," he said softly. "I'm glad to see you, and yet sad also. For years I have been living in denial about how mature you really are, and now I see that you have indeed grown up." He stood and picked up her sword from the table. "You're going into battle," he continued, "falling in love, and now," He turned back to her, and she couldn't decide whether she saw sadness or pride in his blue eyes. "Having a child. I don't know how to deal with this." Mélanyë sat still, stunned by this news that seemed to cause her whole body to fall numb. She looked down and placed a hand on her stomach, seeing that it really was bigger and that what he'd said was true. Suddenly, in her heart she felt the loss of Lindir as if he had just in that moment died, and tears began to flow freely down her face. Elrohir came and knelt beside her, holding her hands as she wept.
"Mélanyë, where is he? Where is Lindir?" he asked. The question only served to deepen the pain and so he received no answer other than a new wave of tears. There was a soft knock at the door in that moment and Elrohir reluctantly got up to answer it. In came a sandy haired hobbit carrying a tray of food.
"I'm sure glad you're awake, miss," he said cheerfully as he set the tray down on the bed in front of her. Mélanyë wiped away the last of her tears and tried to compose herself for her guest. "Mr. Butterbur and I were quite worried you wouldn't pull through. Luckily Mr. Elrohir came and watched over you." She smiled and extended a hand to him.
"Thank you very much," she said. "My name is Mélanyë."
"Nob, at your service!" he replied, taking her hand and giving it an enthusiastic shake. "Just give a shout and I'll bring you anything you'd like." Mélanyë smiled shyly.
"I would like a cup of tea if that's alright."
"Alright? Of course it is! Half a moment!" And with that the little man dashed out the door and down the stairs. Mélanyë laughed in delight and looked down at the tray he'd brought her. On it was fresh bread, cheese and a bowl of hot soup. She leaned in to smell it and sighed contentedly.
"Oh, Elrohir, I haven't had food like this in a long time." He smiled and watched out the window as she ate, but soon she began to tell her tale of where she'd been and what she'd been doing. He listened with great interest and wonder as he learned about all the brave things she'd done and terrible battles she'd fought. Only in that moment did he really see how much she'd changed, not only in appearance, but as a person. She really had grown up, mentally as well as spiritually. When she began to tell him of her dreams he stopped her.
"What did you dream of while you slept here?" he asked. She sat and thought for a long while, but then shook her head.
"I don't remember, but it was wonderful. Happy, and free of any trace of sadness or pain. It was as if I were looking down a long dark path that led to the grandest, brightest party I could imagine with all the people I loved and cared for right there with me." He smiled as he pictured it, but then looked deep into her eyes, and the smile was gone.
"Things have changed at home since you've been gone, Mélanyë," he said. "My father does not believe that this war can be won." Mélanyë felt a mixture of fear and anger at his words, and Elrohir himself wore a deeply saddened expression. "But…there is always hope," he whispered. He looked up at her again and the look was gone. "Many are departing for the West, and soon all of Imladris will be emptied." Mélanyë frowned.
"It doesn't sound like there is much hope left in the Eldar if we would abandon Middle-Earth on the eve of the Great War. Will we not even give the Quest a chance? Or was it always doomed from the beginning?" Elrohir stood and shook his head. When he turned back to her his face was hardened.
"Get some rest. We leave for Imladris in the morning."
The next day they departed from Bree heading east towards home. They rode upon Elrohir's grey horse with all speed save for a few brief stops to rest. Two days later they entered the gates of Rivendell. Mélanyë was welcomed with a shower of hugs and kisses from her friends. Herself, she found it all a bit overwhelming to be home and see everyone again, as if for the first time.
"My dear," she heard behind her. She turned to see a very concerned Bilbo leaning heavily on his walking stick looking up at her. She embraced him in a tender hug.
"Oh, Bilbo," she said, "I'm so sorry for leaving you without saying goodbye!" He began to laugh, immediately setting her at ease.
"Dear Mélanyë, I left for my adventure without a word to my kin," He caressed her cheek with his soft hand. "Welcome home," He said. He then led her away from the crowd of people up to her room.
Mélanyë was almost moved to tears as she entered her home for the first time in many months. Everything around her reminded her of the girl she was when she first left to follow after Lindir into what even she couldn't guess. She removed her pack and her weapons, lovingly folding her Lorien cloak and putting it away. Bilbo watched as she gently removed an old leather book from her pack and caressed it thoughtfully.
"That was Lindir's book if I'm not mistaken," he said softly. She turned to him in surprise, giving him a questioning look. "Oh, I…I saw him with it a while back. He had the same look on his face then as you do now. It must be a sad story indeed." Mélanyë looked back to the cover and traced the emblem with her finger.
"It is," she said. She sighed and then turned back to her uncle. "Bilbo, Lindir…he was slain." Shock mingled with great sadness passed over the old hobbit's face and he hugged her. She held him tightly but did not cry, feeling in her heart that she had shed every tear she had for him already. Bilbo rubbed her back soothingly until finally letting her go. As he did however he looked down and saw how her stomach had grown.
"Mélanyë, could it be?" She smiled faintly at him and nodded. "You are to be a mother? Why this is wonderful news!" he cried. "Well, we'll have to get you unpacked and to the Hall of Fire where you can tell us all about your adventure!" Mélanyë had been smiling at her uncle's enthusiasm, but as he said this she frowned.
"Bilbo, my adventure wasn't as…happy as yours was." His smile faded also, but the sparkle in his eye still remained.
"But you're adventure hasn't ended yet," he said, placing a hand on her stomach. "All stories have a happy ending. You just have to wait for yours."