Chapter 7
The path out of Rivendell passed over the streams running from the highlands, wound through the woods, and climbed up the side of the valley and out of sight. Lori traced the curving line with her eyes, staring at the place where it disappeared behind a beech tree until her vision blurred.
It wasn't that she wanted to leave. Rivendell was safe, and everyone here was kind, and that was far better than what she'd seen of the rest of the world.
But she wanted more than that, and the thought made her sting with guilt each time. She'd already been granted more than she deserved after dying. What she had was enough.
She would have to make it enough.
"Something troubles you."
Lori whipped her head around at the soft, pleasant voice. She'd been so lost in thought, sitting on a bench in one of the entrance courtyards, that she hadn't heard anyone approach.
Arwen was standing a little ways away, dressed in a dark green coat and gloves instead of one of her usual flowing gowns. Her dark hair was tied back, though a couple of strands had fallen loose to frame her face.
"Oh." Lori blinked, remembering that Arwen had said something to her. "I was just lost in thought. "
If Arwen considered that an insufficient response to her comment, she didn't show it. "I am going out riding today," she said. "Would you like to join me?"
"I've never ridden a horse before."
Arwen's lips curved into a smile. "It is a simple thing, and all the horses of Imladris are well-trained. I do not believe you would have any trouble."
Lori acquiesced and stood up. Imladris, she'd learned, was the Sindarin word for Rivendell. With Erestor's help, she'd advanced considerably in learning the language. She wasn't quite fluent yet, but she could get by with a few words and phrases.
She followed Arwen up to the long, narrow building that housed the stables. The inside was filled with the earthy, almost sweet fragrance of horses. Several of them looked up as Arwen pushed the doors open, and she stopped to greet each of them, murmuring soft words of endearment in Sindarin. Lori trailed behind her, watching the large beasts as they swayed their heads. She noticed with a smile that a few had intricate braids running through their manes.
Arwen paused beside a horse with a light brown coat and turned to Lori. "This is Maeroch. She is quite gentle. You may touch her, if you like."
Lori stepped up beside her and tentatively ran a hand down the smooth fur above its nose. The horse watched her with large, placid eyes.
"There were no horses where you lived?" Arwen asked, stepping inside the stable.
"Not really." She leaned against the stable door as Arwen placed a blanket and saddle on Maeroch's back with practiced ease. "We had…different ways of getting around."
"This must be strange for you, living in a place so different from your home."
That was something that had always been understood yet unspoken, but to have someone say it out loud brought a lump to her throat. Lori ran a thumb over a groove in the stable door while she gathered herself.
"It's been strange." She swallowed. "But it's been a lot better since I came to Rivendell. What really scared me was having to survive in the wilderness all of a sudden."
"The lands to the north can be harsh, especially during the winter." Arwen finished with Maeroch and moved to a different stall with a white horse inside.
"Do you ever worry about Aragorn while he's out there?" Arwen paused in her work, and Lori added, "You don't have to answer."
"It's all right." She stroked the mane of the horse for a moment, her movements slow and pensive. "I know better than to fear for him. He is strong and capable, and he has survived in the wild for many years. If his doom finds him, it will not be for some time."
Doom? Lori rubbed her arms as a sudden chill passed over them. She wondered how Arwen could say something like that so matter-of-factly—and how she could handle loving someone that would die long before she ever did.
"Do not despair." Arwen looked at her kindly, and the chill disappeared from her limbs. "The world is not as dark as it seems."
Lori wasn't sure what to say to that, and she stayed silent as Arwen led both horses out of their stalls and helped her onto Maeroch's back. The horse swayed slightly beneath her, and Lori gripped the edge of the saddle to keep her balance.
"Hold the reins, like this." Arwen handed the strip of leather to her and showed her the proper place to put her hands. "If you move with her, it will be easier to find your balance."
"Okay." Lori tried to follow her instructions, and swallowed back her nervousness as Arwen nudged her horse into a walk, and Maeroch followed close behind. She spent the next few minutes in silence, focusing on her movement. She eventually found that if she let her hips move in time with Maeroch's footsteps, she felt a little steadier.
They took the southern path out of the city, which wound gently upwards through the forested slopes of the valley. It had rained the day before, and the smell rose richly from the earth. It was quiet, except for the chirping of birds and the muffled thud of the horses' hooves against the soft earth.
Maeroch paused, and Lori gasped as the horse bent its neck forward, nearly pulling the reins out of her grasp.
"What's it doing?"
"She has found something interesting to smell," Arwen said with a gentle smile. "Gwaem, Maeroch."
The horse raised her head and continued onwards. Her cheeks warm, Lori gathered up the reins again.
"Do you ride up here often?" she asked.
Arwen slowed her own mount so they could ride next to one another. "It depends. I come here sometimes to think, or to ease my restlessness."
Restlessness. Hearing the word from someone else was a palpable relief. Maybe she wasn't going crazy after all.
She ducked beneath a branch trimmed with tiny, bright green leaves. "Have you been outside the valley before?"
Arwen nodded. "I spent a number of years in the realm of my grandparents, in Lothlórien."
Lori had read a little about the forest during her time in the library, and even through ink and paper there was a clear sense of awe when it came to the elvish kingdom.
"What was it like there?"
A smile graced Arwen's face, one of fondness, but Lori sensed some secret joy behind it. "It is a place of beauty and light. The trees there are older and fairer than those in any other forest in Middle-earth."
"They're magic?" Lori guessed.
"Yes. There is magic in all things, though it is not always so easily noticed."
"Oh." The word came out more judgmentally than she'd meant it too, and Lori tried to back track. "I mean, that's valid. It's just, where I'm from, we didn't really have a concept of magic. This is just a little strange for me."
She looked up to find Arwen watching her. Despite the youth in her features, there was a piercing wisdom in her gaze.
"You are not happy in Rivendell."
"I-I am," Lori protested. "After everything that happened when I first arrived here, I'm really grateful to be somewhere safe. It's been a little strange, but I didn't mean to imply that I wasn't happy."
"I do not take insult," Arwen said. "For all that the Eldar are lauded for their wisdom, it is still a fault of our kind to forget the perspective of the Edain. Rivendell is a refuge to all who seek it, but I do not believe it is meant for mortals to live out the rest of their lives."
"What about Bilbo?"
"Bilbo has lived much of his life, and he has come here to rest. You still have many years ahead of you."
Lori swallowed. "I wouldn't even know where to begin. I don't know how to survive on my own, and I don't have any useful skills to contribute…"
Arwen nudged her horse closer to Lori's and laid a hand over hers. "You deserve happiness, Lori. And I believe you will find it."
She looked into the elf's gray eyes and nodded, unable to speak.
She thought back to what Elrond had told her all those weeks ago—that she had nothing but time, now. Maybe she could make that into a good thing.
The corridor was nearly silent, a gentle breeze exhaling through the high ceiling of its length. Lori hugged her arms to her chest and stepped back so she could take in the tapestry at its full length.
The spires of a white city rose in the center, and its lower levels were wreathed in flame. Amidst the jagged orange shapes were clawed beasts and dark soldiers with spears. Some of the creatures looked like dragons, their maws open wide—devouring or expelling, she wasn't sure. Above the fire were several warriors in gleaming silver, their banners raised and swords drawn.
"The Fall of Gondolin."
She started at the voice and turned around. A tall blond elf—Glorfindel, she thought his name was—approached her, his eyes fixed on the tapestry.
She followed his gaze, frowning. "The elves lost the battle?"
"They did, after many warriors gave their lives to defend the city. Myself included."
It took her a moment to realize what he'd said, and she looked back at him. "You don't…look…dead."
A smile curved his lips, making the lines of his face less severe. "I was given a second chance, much as you were."
Lori lowered her gaze. She guessed Elrond had told Glorfindel about her situation, possibly so she could talk to someone who at least partly understood what she was going through.
Maybe we should start a club, she thought wryly.
"I wasn't exactly given a second chance," she said. "I could've gone to the afterlife, but I made a stupid, impulsive decision and ended up here."
"You took your fate into your own hands," Glorfindel said, arching a brow. "What shame is there in that?"
"That's only a good thing if I make good decisions," Lori said, and cringed inwardly at how childish she sounded. She was talking to a piece of history, after all. "I mean, I don't know if I regret what I did, because I don't know how things would be otherwise."
"Well, what are you going to do now?" When she didn't answer, he continued, "You may regret your decision, but if there is no reversing it, then what are you going to do?"
Her gaze shifted back to the tapestry, to the deep greens and golds of the elvish banners. "After you died, did you want a second chance?"
"I did. And I believe you did as well, or you would not have fought so hard to return to the world of the living."
That wasn't how she remembered things. When she'd jumped out of that train, she hadn't been choosing life, hadn't even known that was an option.
She'd chosen nothing.
"I don't know what I want," she admitted quietly. There were days when she could hardly remember how to want.
"You will not find it here," Glorfindel replied. "Not among the dead."
He walked away, his boots clicking on the stone, leaving her with long-gone souls resurrected in filaments of red and silver.
Lori set the violin in her lap and began cleaning the strings with a small, soft piece of cloth. Lindir had taught her how to maintain the instrument's condition, and the ritual was rather calming, a sort of cool-down after a practice session. While she worked, she hummed the tune of the song she'd just been playing. After a while, the song changed, and her lips formed the words that went along with the melody.
"And in my mind, I imagine so many things…"
She wished she could play some of the songs she knew from her old life, but she'd never been great at learning things by ear. When she'd asked Lindir about sheet music, he'd given her a strange look.
"Music is meant to be heard, not read," he'd said.
Lori let out a short sigh and maneuvered the cloth so she could clean the fingerboard. For now, she was stuck with the songs that she knew.
"And when they put me in the ground, I'll start pounding the lid, saying I haven't finished yet…"
She fell silent, her fingers stilling as a wave of melancholy swept over her. There were some days, better days, when she was able to keep her chin above the water, and others when grief hit her without warning. Even after six months of living here, she couldn't find her way out of that cycle, the waves and troughs of her mind.
I want to go home. The thought came to her in the voice of a much younger girl, and the handful of words were enough to open up that crushing emptiness in her chest.
"What was that song you were singing just now?"
Lori looked up as Bilbo entered the pavilion where she was sitting, a cream-colored shawl wrapped around his shoulders.
She managed a smile in an attempt to clear any trace of sadness from her face. "It's just a song from my—from my old home."
"I rather like it." Bilbo hoisted himself onto the bench next to her. "You know, there's nothing like elvish music, but there are times when I find myself wanting a simpler tune."
Her smile turned genuine. "I know what you mean. I was thinking I should try and remember my favorite songs since…I probably won't hear them again."
"Is that what was troubling you, my dear?" When Lori looked at him in surprise, Bilbo added, "I saw it on your face when I walked in."
Lori resumed cleaning the violin, just for something to do with her hands. "Yeah. I miss my home. Don't you ever miss the Shire?"
Bilbo let out a small, considering hum. "Sometimes, I suppose. I miss my dear nephew, and my garden, and my study in Bag End. But I knew that I was leaving it all behind, and I had a good amount of time to say goodbye."
A lump grew in her throat, and Lori fought to keep her eyes dry. Saltwater was bad for the violin.
"But I am no stranger to loss," Bilbo continued in a softer voice. "There are things that have been taken from me, and places I had to leave even if I didn't really want to. It is a cruel thing to endure."
Lori snuck a glance at him. There was a heaviness in his words that she'd never heard before. If he wasn't talking about the Shire, then something must have happened during his journey in the east. He'd told her bits and pieces of his adventure, but never the full story.
"Does it get easier over time?" she asked.
"Of course it does." His smile was tinged with melancholy. "New things will enter your life, and it doesn't seem quite so crowded with pain anymore."
She lifted her gaze to the frost-gray of the sky, partly visible beyond the roof of the pavilion. I need new things. I need something.
Bilbo cleared his throat. "Well, now. I won't have you listening to the ramblings of an old hobbit any longer than you should. Perhaps you should take a look around. You might find something of interest."
Lori shot him a curious look, but he only raised his eyebrows expectantly. She shrugged and packed the violin away in its case. Before she left the pavilion, she paused and turned back to him.
"I just want you to know that I'm sorry. For…whatever it was that you lost."
His expression softened. "Thank you, Lori. You have a kind soul."
The praise warmed her, and she set off towards the main hall to put the violin away. She kept an absent eye out for the "something of interest" Bilbo had mentioned, but she found nothing out of the ordinary as she climbed the stairs to the second floor and stowed the instrument in its proper place in one of the storage rooms.
Energy stirred in her limbs, part adrenaline and part restlessness from the conversation she'd had with Bilbo. Perhaps she would go out riding—another way she'd found to pass the time. Sometimes Arwen accompanied her, and on the days she went alone, she often carried a book with her. She'd found a couple texts describing the properties of different plants and animals, and she tried to quiz herself whenever she went out. Even as her Sindarin approved day by day, she still felt the need to study something.
She headed back to her room to change, taking the long way around down a path bowered by trellises of flowers. In the spring, they'd bloomed in deep violet and lavender, but with autumn shifting into winter the leaves had turned from green to gold.
As she passed by one of the entrance courtyards, a familiar voice caught her ear, and her heart leapt. She gathered up her skirt in one hand and hurried down the stairs towards it.
Aragorn was standing by the bridge, still wearing his weather-stained cloak. He was speaking to Glorfindel, though he turned at the sight of Lori moving towards him.
"I didn't know you were going to be back so soon." She reached him and faltered.
Her hesitation evaporated when Aragorn reached out with a smile and hooked an arm around her shoulders. She let him pull her closer and wrapped her arms around him. He smelled like sweat and campfire smoke, and something like nostalgia tugged at her heart.
"I was fortunate enough for my travels to bring me close to the valley," Aragorn said as he released her.
Lori stepped back and looked him over. He didn't look much different from the last time she'd seen him, but she had words now to describe him that she hadn't before.
Dúnadan. She hadn't thought much of Bilbo's nickname for Aragorn until she'd come across the word in a book. The Dúnedain were men from an island that had long since disappeared, gifted with long life—which explained why Aragorn looked much younger than he was. He hadn't changed at all, but now she had a name for all the little things that set him apart from other men.
"I am glad to see that you are well," Aragorn continued.
"Yeah." She smiled. "I'm good."
"I take my leave," Glorfindel said, then added to Aragorn, "We will continue our discussion later."
Aragorn nodded. "N'i lû tôl."
"I've been working on my Sindarin," Lori said, then raised her chin. "Pedin edhellen."
He chuckled, and they walked out of the courtyard together. "Agoreg vae. Your pronunciation has improved."
"I've been practicing. How was your…" Lori paused and tried to think of the correct wording. Trip? Mission? "How have you been?"
"I am well. The summer months are not often dangerous, and the worst we have had to fend off is the occasional raid by bandits. It is in the cold and the dark that evil creatures grow bold." He adjusted the cloak around his shoulders. "I will not be able to stay long."
"Well, it's nice that you could visit," Lori said, trying to keep her tone light. "Did you want to get something to eat?" When he shot her a questioning glance, she shrugged and said, "I thought you'd be hungry after your journey."
Aragorn's expression softened, and he smiled. "That is thoughtful of you. Let us take our midday meal together."
"All right."
She walked with him down the path, and for the first time in a while, her steps didn't seem quite so aimless.
The next few days passed more quickly than Lori expected. Every minute that she spent with Aragorn brought them closer to the moment that he would leave. He would vanish back into the wilderness, and things would return to the way they'd always been in Rivendell. The thought strung her with anxiety.
Her apprehension only grew when she ran into Aragorn one morning and found him dressed in his travel gear.
"Are you leaving today?" she asked.
"I have need to depart a couple days earlier than I had planned. There is something I must see to before I can rejoin the other Rangers." He paused, then gestured for her to walk with him.
She fell into step beside him. "Is something wrong?"
Aragorn was silent for a long moment. "Are you happy here, Lori?"
She let out a short sigh. "Did Arwen talk to you?"
He dipped his head in acknowledgement. "She shared her concerns with me, but I wanted to hear it directly from you."
Lori opened her mouth to give her usual reassurances, then stopped herself. Aragorn had never judged her for being honest before, and her chest ached from holding back the truth.
"I'm…" She raised her shoulders. "I have everything I could want here, but I'm not exactly happy. I just don't have anywhere else to go."
Aragorn stopped and turned to face her. "That is not true. There is a world out there for you to explore and learn from. If you wish it, I will take you to one of the villages of men and help you find work there."
Her eyes widened slightly. "Really?"
"Your life would not be as comfortable as it is here, but you may find it more fulfilling to be among your own kind."
A thrill of apprehension rose within her, like the first lightning strike flickering through a clouded sky. "I don't really have any useful skills to offer, though. I don't know how to farm or make clothes or…any of that."
Briefly, she entertained the absurd image of walking door to door in a medieval town, handing out her resume to a series of confused craftsmen.
"You learn quickly, and you are a diligent worker," Aragorn said. "There are many here who could attest to that. Those are skills that cannot be so easily taught."
Lori took a deep breath, letting the possibility of it fill her lungs. She could be among people who rushed and argued, who had deadlines to meet, who sweat and made mistakes. Suddenly she craved it.
"You'd really do that for me? Help me find a job somewhere?"
"I would not have offered if I did not plan to keep my word." He raised an eyebrow. "What do you think?"
"Okay." She nodded, a smile tugging at her lips. "Let's do it." She shifted her weight. "Should I go get packed?" She didn't really have many possessions of her own, except a few clothes, a hairbrush, and her Sindarin flashcards.
"You'll have time to prepare. I must inform Elrond of your decision."
"All right." She felt giddy, felt like a child again. "I'll meet you by the main hall?"
Aragorn nodded, and she set off towards her room. This was her crimson thread in the dark—she could go, now. She wanted to.
And this plunge into the unknown didn't seem quite as frightening as the last.
The song Lori sings is "In My Mind" by Amanda Palmer, which is a cute song and great for when you're a twenty-something trying to figure your life out. Next chapter we'll be on the road and get active a bit. Until then!