Chapter Nineteen: Wishes and Warfare

They pulled away, and Elrond gently grasped a strand of Caranel's hair, scowling at it.

"Who did this?" he murmured. "Your hair was beautiful, and now…"

Caranel sniffed. "I think I know who did it. It must have been Maedhros; he hates me."

"But why would he dye your hair?" Elrond wondered.

"Maybe it's because it was so similar to his own," the elleth suggested. "I think he didn't want there to be anything comparable between us, because he thought so lowly of me."

"So he took from you the very thing you were named for," the elf-lord muttered bitterly. "Isn't that just typical."

"It could be worse," Caranel shrugged. "He could have cut it off completely."

Elrond laughed. "It's so good to see your face again. For the longest time I thought Lady Elwing's sons and I were the only survivors of the attack… I was so worried about you!"

Caranel gasped, her expression switching abruptly from delight to horror. "Lady Elwing! Oh, sir, I have to tell you… but I can't say it… it was my fault! All my fault!" She buried her face in his tunic, shaking with sobs of grief.

Elrond patted her shoulder soothingly. "I know about Lady Elwing. It wasn't your fault."

"Y- yes, it was," Caranel wailed. "I tried to s- stop her, but I j- just couldn't… couldn't r- r- reach her in t- time… she's dead, and it's my fault!"

"No," Elrond replied. "She had made up her mind. There was nothing anyone could have done. It was her choice. Besides," he added, "there's still hope."

"Wh- what do you…?" Caranel looked up at him in a rather damp state of surprise.

"I mean," Elrond smiled, "that she survived."

"She's alive?" the elleth gasped. "But… how? Where is she?"

"She's in Valinor," the elf-lord answered. "Either that or flying with Eärendil."

Caranel stared at him. Elrond pointed calmly out the nearest window, saying, "See if you can find the brightest star."

The girl frowned up at the sky, replying, "I see it. Is that really Lord Eärendil?"

Elrond nodded. "Yes. He has been there for about a month now."

"And Lady Elwing is with him?"

"Perhaps… ow."

The elf-lord rubbed the back of his skull. Caranel frowned. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Just a bit of a headache," Elrond replied nonchalantly. "It's nothing."

But it wasn't nothing, he knew. Something bad was coming. The elf turned to his friend, quickly changing the subject.

"Caranel," he said, "no-one must know of this. Everyone must think you're still a mute. I don't know how, I don't know when, but if anyone else finds out who you really are, then there will be trouble."

The elleth nodded, shutting her mouth tightly. Elrond nodded.

"Good. Now… Wenúbeth… we'd best both get to bed."

Caranel cringed at the sound of her old name, but complied in stoical silence.

----

I wish I could see Mother again.

Elrond felt his eyes prickle familiarly as the thought slipped into his mind. He noticed he was nearing the twins' bedroom; the door was about six feet from where he stood. The elf approached the half-open door, and heard the soft voice of his younger self within:

"Starlight, star bright
First star I see tonight
I wish I may, wish I might
Have the wish I wish tonight."

Elrond I poked his head cautiously into the room. Elrond II was standing in front of the window, his back to the door, gazing up at the stars twinkling in the black sky.

The child turned his head and spotted the elf-lord on the threshold. He gave a welcoming smile, and Elrond I strode into the room and to his own side.

"What are you doing?" he asked unnecessarily.

Elrond II turned back to the window, sighing quietly. "Wishing."

"For what?"

"I can't tell," the boy said firmly. "Then it won't come true."

"I see." Elrond I nodded. "May I join you?"

The boy nodded, and the elf-lord rested his elbows on the windowsill as he leant forward. "Let's see… what should I wish for?"

"You have to say the rhyme first," Elrond II reminded him.

Elrond I nodded. "Silly me. All right… starlight, star bright, first star I see tonight…"

He finished the verse, and considered his wish. There were so many things he wanted, not only for himself. He wanted for Caranel to be free, and for no more innocent blood to be spilt. So many wishes, and he could only choose one…

"All right," he said at last. "I wish…"

The aspiration never passed his lips, but it sang a faint, hopeful song in his heart.

----

Elrond awoke the next morning with a grimace twisting his lips. His head was pounding. He promptly buried it under his pillow, just as a timid knock sounded on the door.

The elf-lord sat up slowly, still clutching his skull. "Come in."

The door creaked open, and Caranel slipped softly inside, shutting the door behind her. A familiar frown of concern pulled at her lips.

"Headache," he explained, as she opened her mouth to speak.

The elleth nodded. "Is it bad? I could call the healers…"

"I'll live," Elrond replied, gritting his teeth against the pain.

"Are you sure?" Caranel's eyebrow lifted.

"I'll be just fine," the elf-lord lied through his teeth, as his head gave an especially large and painful throb. "It's nothing you should worry about."

She glanced suspiciously at him, but nodded. "If you say so."

Moving to his bedside, Caranel gazed seriously at him. Her eyes never left his face when she spoke.

"I never really thanked you properly for what you've been doing for me," she said softly. "Helping me when Maedhros was hurting me, and bringing my memory back. You don't know how much it meant to me."

Elrond smiled, even though it worsened his headache. "It was nothing, really."

"It was everything," she insisted, her eyes shining. "I only wish–"

But she broke off as a sharp knock sounded on the door, and an all-too-familiar voice met their ears. "Lord Elrond, are you there? I wonder whether I might have a word…"

Caranel blanched, instantly becoming Wenúbeth again and cowering behind her mask of muteness. She signaled urgently with her hands; Elrond caught the gist immediately.

"The wardrobe!" he hissed, shoving her toward it. "Don't make a sound!"

The door snapped shut, and Elrond locked it before calling, "Come in, please!"

The bedroom door creaked open, and the elf-lord spoke casually as he turned around.

"Of course I have time for a word, Maedh— Maglor?"

He stared in amazement at the figure on the threshold. The voice had certainly been that of Maedhros, but the elf who now stood before him was nearly the image of Maglor.

"You were correct the first time," Maedhros grumbled. "I wonder if I could speak to you about something."

"Go ahead," Elrond replied, forcing a calm smile. His palms were sweating profusely out of sheer dread, and his headache was rising to the point of being unbearable.

"Something wrong?" Maedhros asked sweetly.

"Just a headache," the half-elf gritted out. "I'm fine."

The son of Fëanor nodded. "I wanted to talk to you about last night. You used my soaps to wash your hair, and I was wondering whether or not you were… messing around with some of the bottles, say. Because when I washed my own hair this morning, I discovered that I had not been using soap, but black dye." He indicated his raven locks.

Elrond forced saliva into his dry mouth. "I assure you that I did not switch the contents of any bottles."

Maedhros nodded, smiling disarmingly. "Very well. Perhaps I merely misread the label, then. My handwriting is rather untidy, haha."

Elrond attempted a grin. "Haha."

Maedhros abruptly frowned. "Might I ask whom you were talking with before I came? There doesn't seem to be anyone else in the room, but I am sure I heard two voices here."

Elrond's mouth promptly dried out again. He was trapped.

"You must be mistaken," he replied quickly. "There was no-one here. Although I do have a rather strange tendency to talk to myself… haha…"

"Do you normally use male and female voices to discern separate thoughts?"

"W- well… that's, er…"

He was out of ideas. Maedhros' smirk was so wide that it threatened to split his face. The half-elf scoured his mind for some shred of a plan, but there was nothing.

"Something wrong?" Maedhros whispered.

Elrond desperately opened his mouth, fully prepared to shout the most random thing that came to his mind, but he was mercifully spared by a voice from afar.

"Maedhros! Could you spare a moment?"

Maedhros leaned closer to Elrond and hissed, "We'll continue this little chat later."

Elrond nodded, silently thanking the Valar as the other elf stalked away. Drawing a deep breath, the elf unlocked the wardrobe and let Caranel out.

"Thank you so much," the elleth whispered, emerging from behind his robes and tunics.

"Don't mention it," Elrond replied quietly. "If it hadn't been for Maglor, I never–"

"AHA!" screeched a triumphant voice.

Both elves whirled around, staring in horror at Maedhros, who was standing again in the doorway. An evil grin contorted his pale features as he stared straight at Caranel.

"I knew it," he hissed, stepping forward. "I knew you were hiding something. You never spoke to me, but you will to him. Why?"

"Because I don't treat her like something a dog rolled in!" Elrond snapped.

"You can't prove that!"

"Can't I?" Elrond cried. "You never even wanted to bring her here! You would have left her for dead, if it hadn't been for Maglor!"

"And I regret listening to him," Maedhros snarled. "That girl is worthless. Wasted space. I rue the day I met her! I see no reason why I shouldn't simply finish it now!"

His sword was out in an instant; he was walking forward as Caranel shrank back in terror. Elrond moved instinctively in front of her, gazing into Maedhros' eyes. They were wide, wild; he resembled a wolf spotting a wounded doe. He advanced slowly, hungrily…

Elrond tore his eyes from his enemy's face, staring desperately around him for a weapon. His sword was on the other side of the room, behind Maedhros. It was futile. But if it was necessary, Elrond would defend his friend with his life.

"Don't be a fool," Maedhros told him. "I only want the girl."

"You'll have to kill me first!" cried Elrond.

Maedhros nodded grimly. "Then so be it."