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Chapter Forty Three
Balancing Act
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Five months Later
Elrond's POV
The horse snuffled softly, and again attempted to chew on my collar.
"No, no, behave yourself." I slipped the bridle on, and the creature happily began to snuffle around my pockets, probably looking for an apple, or sugar, or something. Rather spoiled, but the only horse for the task at hand.
For a purportedly high-strung animal, the horse seemed perfectly happy to follow me from its stall, even though it was still a few hours before dawn. The night still held warmth from the summer sun, and the valley smelled sweet.
The peace and quiet was abruptly broken by someone in a dreadful hurry. Lindir stopped abruptly, his mouth open. He held a disorganized pack in one hand, and the strap of his violin case hooked over one shoulder. He looked even more disreputable than is usual.
"Master Elrond," he gasped, looking from me to the horse "I had absolutely no idea- I did not think that you would understand, and decided that-"
"Lindir, please," I held up a hand "You need not explain."
"Oh." Lindir looked at the ground for a moment, and then lifted his chin.
"I am going." he said firmly "I hope you don't want to stop me. Because I will go."
He was completely serious, something he hardly was about anything.
"Well," I said "I hope you were not considering running the entire way to Gondor."
I held out the reins, and he took them. Then, his eyes widened in shock.
"But this is-"
"An emergency. I am sure Glorfindel will understand." Ha.
Lindir paused for a moment. I knew why. He hadn't left Rivendell since he came here as a child. And perhaps he knew, as I knew, that if his plan succeeded, he would never come back.
"Well, goodbye," he said gravely "I'm glad that you-- understand, and all that. It would've been dashed difficult, you know."
"Dashed difficult, perhaps." I knew I was delaying as well, trying to tell myself that this was not yet another parting, another goodbye without the promise of meeting again. That is part of Arda Marred. I am glad, to be leaving soon.
"What." Lindir blurted out suddenly "Do you think of this? Really, I mean?"
That was Lindir. Defying all the world to stop him, then asking if it was a bother.
"Do you need my blessing?" I asked.
"No, but I should like to have it all the same." he said honestly.
"Go to it then."
He departed then, and now, my biggest concern was explaining to Glorfindel that I had just handed Asfaloth over to Lindir, who intended to marry a mortal in Gondor. He would never understand.
Then, perhaps…perhaps, he would. It was, after all, true love.
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Barb's POV
"The houses are filling up again." Boromir's voice pulled me from my reverie over my breakfast plate "Pass the muffins, please." he added.
Emily passed him the plate of muffins. Ecthelion was asleep, so he was not in his usual place- drooling happily on her shoulder.
"When I think of how empty it was, I can hardly believe it myself." she agreed "The city's positively bursting with new arrivals, children. There weren't any children here, before."
Boromir twinkled something at her. She laughed, and said "You" in that way.
"Pass the muffins, please." I requested. They both started slightly, as if they had forgotten me. I hate when people forget me. I took a muffin from the plate. I love muffins.
"So," I said, while buttering it "What's today's schedule? I know you're probably going to be doing something stewardly today, Boromir, but I was sort've hoping I could see the city today. Those guards at the gates keep asking for some secret password, even though they know I'm not a murderer or something."
"The gates aren't all locked." Emily said "The lower gates of the city are opened during the daytime- it's too much trouble to keep opening and shutting them all the time. Especially with all the new people. Only the higher gates are shut- that way, an axe murderer or someone doesn't sneak in to assassinate the king or queen- and even those gates aren't shut all the time."
"Well, every time I go there, they're shut."
"Maybe they think you look suspicious." Emily said, adding kindly "You don't look Gondorian- I'm not trying to be mean, you just don't."
She took a muffin.
"Maybe you should just stay home today. I'm sure there's plenty to do around here- the garden, for instance."
I hate the garden I thought, and Boromir is at the muffins again.
"Maybe you could tell me the passwords. That way, I can roam through the streets of Gondor unattended."
"Aha, ha." Boromir laughed. He knew me too well by now. He knew I wasn't kidding about the unattended part. He stood up from his chair ( the muffins were gone, I noted) "I'm afraid I can't do that. Those passwords are not to be given to someone who is not Gondorian- well, except for Gandalf, and that was different. And the queen, in truth, is not either, but she is the queen."
"What you mean, not Gondorian?" I protested "Emily's not Gondorian, but she probably knows them- and does that mean Ecthelion won't know them either, because his mom was born in New York state?"
"Barbara, some other day I will take you to see the entire city, and you can prowl about. I must leave now. Goodbye my love ( note: he was talking to Emily here) take care of yourself and the baby, remember, Ioreth is here if you need help."
He bent down and kissed Emily on the cheek, and left. Emily looked at me.
"I know you don't like staying in the house all day, Barb," she said "Boromir's right about those passwords. You wouldn't believe all the fuss that was caused when Denethor insisted on allowing his wife- his own wife- to learn them. I think it was because people didn't trust her, really, she was too much of an elf."
"You mean, she didn't sit home all day and embroider cushions?"
Emily swatted me on the head lightly.
"You know they aren't that bad. She just wasn't happy here. They said, she loved to stand on the wall top, when the wind blew from the sea.. She liked to roam too, like you."
"That isn't very comforting, considering she died." I grumbled, but felt intrigued.
Intrigued, because it seemed so strange to think of a serious man like Denethor ( you can from the pictures, ok?) marrying a wild, roaming girl from Dol Amroth. If she was anything like Imrahil, I thought, she must have been quite a person.
"Tell you what." Emily suggested "I think we all should get out of the house. Ecthelion's old enough, I think, and I hardly see you anymore. Put something light on, I think the day's going to be humid."
I nodded. Perhaps this would interesting. I didn't know about the lower levels of the city, but merely walking by myself drew tons of attention. Sometimes, a particularly earnest guard would ask if I wanted an escort. Other people talked about how bold (?) this was, and how I obviously was trying to attract the attention of everyone. Then, this was usually said by the city's hags, or some girl obviously in love with the guard!
I knew people talked about me. I pulled a pale, spring green dress from the wardrobe. The lack of layers on my clothes was also a subject of concern among the 'noble' ladies. However, I asked Emily, and she said my clothes were perfectly modest. Her mouth had tightened, and I later heard talk about how the Steward's wife had 'spoken' with some ladies.
After that, those discussions ended. I still felt wary, but decided "Hang it all" and decided to wear my simplest dress- the green one.
I am sorry. It must sound strange, but if you have never been at least semi-famous, you will not understand how every behavior is noted, and scrutinized- especially if you are a girl. The City gossips considered it their bounden duty to insure there was at least some major scandal each week- my dress was one.
I blinked back tears, trying to put on a brave face before I rejoined Emily and baby Ecthelion. She understood, a little, but not really how miserable Minas Tirith was beginning to seem to me. I knew how Finduilas felt. All those dozens of gates, creating a splendid white cage. All those miserable gossips inside, creating smaller cages with their sharp tongues.
I couldn't burden Emily with this. She loved Minas Tirith. To her, the zigzagging gates were a quirky trait of a wonderful old city, and the gossips were old women who couldn't really harm anyone. Emily lived here now. You know, at a hotel, you are staying there, not really living there. She lived here.
Not me.
A bright smile came on my face, before I opened the door. I had no idea that this night would be the last night I ever spent in that city.
Emily's POV
"Sometimes I wonder what women were thinking when they insisted that Ecthelion be wrapped in yards and yards of material," I said as I hitched up another fold of Ecthelion's blanket, "They always think that he's going to catch cold."
"When you pointed out the fact that he might be just as warm in smaller clothes I think Ioreth's eyes nearly poked out of her head," Barbie smirked.
Ecthelion sighed and sucked on his fist in a drooly way as I tucked the blanket around him a little more. The wind was warm from Dol Amroth, but I didn't think it would do him any good to catch a chill. After the last three months we had learned that he got earaches easily and so for the sake of health for him and my dear Boromir I kept him warmly wrapped.
"I think you might consider a visit to Dol Amroth soon," I told Barbara, "Imrahil's very fond of you and it might do you good to get away from the city for awhile. At least until the old crones of the court get used to your ways. Besides, Legolas and Gimli are spending the summer there before going on to Ithilien. They could even escort you."
"Yeah, that sounds great," Barbie answered half-heartedly.
"Look Barb, I know you're not quite happy with the city and the whole deal about the passwords, but you could pretend."
Barbie had turned away when I began speaking and now she turned back and there were tears shining just on the edge of her eyelids.
"I have Em. I really have, but …I can't…keep…" she blinked furiously and scrubbed at her eyes, "Do you ever think that Ecthelion looks like Teddy?"
At the mention of our oldest brother I stopped cold in my tracks and looked down at my baby. He looked back at me and smiled at my worried expression. The picture of my brother came to my mind and I saw that Ecthelion did indeed have my brother's mouth. He also had my brother's baby habit of staring at light for hours and hours.
"Yeah, yeah I do." I said, "It just that…it hurts a lot to remember home. I do, all the time. You're not the only one who misses our family."
"But you have your own now," Barbie replied, calmer now, "It's easier for you to think about other things. I have so much time on my hands that I hardly know what to do."
"There's always embroidery," I answered, "And you know I did hear that Haldir and that elleth aren't getting married."
"Really?" Barbie asked, "Do you know why not? I thought he seemed pretty keen on her."
"I don't know just why yet, but Queen Arwen said that Legolas had mentioned it in a letter his father sent…"
"….after hearing it from Galadriel who had heard it from Celeborn," Barbie grinned, "Presumably from Haldir's lips. I'll bet."
"Well, news does get around no matter what." I answered.
Just then a clanging, clashing sound pulled my attention away from Barbie and I saw the open door of our forge. It seems so rich and important to have our own forge, but we did. And a stable and garden and heaps of smelly animals. I headed in that direction to watched the blacksmith work for awhile. Since college I had known a few blacksmiths and I always found their work very interesting.
Barbie followed me a minute later and we stood working the blacksmith work a bright band of glowing steel with his hammer.
He was a big man, tall and broad shouldered in a leather apron, but his arms were bare in the fierce from the oven. He didn't look at us or seem to notice that we were standing there so we had the chance to hear him sing under his breath as he worked. The song was beautiful, about home and a sweet lass on the hearth or something like that.
Ecthelion took this moment to cough and cry so the blacksmith saw us. He quickly bowed and wiped his sweaty face on a rather dirty looking rag.
"I'm sorry milady, I didn't see you there," he said, "Is there something I can do for you?"
"No, we're just joining watching you work," I answered, "What are you making?"
"Just a mite of a band for the leaky water barrel," he answered smoothly, "But I think I have something your ladyship might like to see."
"Really?" I looked at Barb with a raised brow and hefted Ecthelion on my hip. He was know staring at the glow of the fire pit as if his eyes would start right out of his little head. The blacksmith was rummaging around in the shelves around the shop while taking enough time to offer to grubby stools for us. Barbie grinned at the thought of what the ladies of the city would say if they saw her sitting in a dirty smithy. She immediately gathered up her skirts and plopped down.
The blacksmith noticed and smiled approvingly, "That's right young miss, make yourself right at home, it's been a long time since you were there ere?"
"What?" I asked, little alarmed.
He smiled comfortingly, "That's right, you're from another country isn't that right?"
"Yes," I answered, "But people generally don't …well, talk about it like that."
"Begging your pardon Milady," he replied, "I hope I wasn't taking a liberty." He smiled again and something about his deep blue eyes made me look away. I felt like I did with Gandalf, like he was looking right through me.
"No, that's alright," I said. Ecthelion cooed softly and the blacksmith's face softened.
"Is that young prince Ecthelion?" he asked.
"Yes," Barbie answered for me, "He's the cutest baby this side of the world."
"I am sure he is," the blacksmith moved toward us and held out his hands. Cupped in his massive, rough hands were two metals I wasn't familiar with. Even in their dull and unworked state they caught the fire light and sparkled.
"What is it?" Barbie asked.
"Well," the blacksmith went on, 'It's something special, if you follow me."
He went over to the table and set the little piles of metal on a clear workspace, "You see, if I would use either of these metals alone to make anything, say a sword or a pot, it wouldn't be strong enough." he pushed the piles closer, "But if I mixed the two together they would combine to make a nearly unbreakable metal."
As he spoke he had looked at both Barbie and I and his words were soft and direct, carrying heavier meaning. I felt a little thrill down my spine and looked down at the metal again.
"You see, I have to use just the right amount of each for the metal to cure properly," he said, "I have eight parts of this and eight of this." he moved the parts around as he spoke, "But if, say, two of these parts fell in the melting pot as an extra, and they sometimes do, then the balance or the mixture would be off. If you follow me?"
Barbie released a breath and nodded shakily, "Go on."
"You see how they would be imbalanced and that would cause a major disruption." he looked at me, "And some of the metal would immediately bond to the other creating the third mixture that is the strongest." He smiled at Ecthelion who burbled happily back.
"But the balance would still be off," I answered slowly, "What…what would that do?"
"It changes the course of how things are meant to be," he answered kindly, "Not necessarily for the worse, but from their original state. Neither of the mixtures would be perfect. If you follow me."
"Part of the metal would be taken away," Barbie supplied. The blacksmith met her eyes and nodded seriously.
"That's right, but only if it didn't bond to the other."
Barbara and I looked at the Blacksmith and then at each other. Ecthelion sighed and then blew a raspberry at the blacksmith who smiled as he scooped the metals back into his bug hands. A low rumble in the west made us all look out to where storm clouds were gathering in the distance. Barbara went to the door and stood framed in the dimming light.
"You ladies may want to get back home now," he said, "A storm is coming and tis an uncommon one at that."
"Yes," I answered, "I know."
The blacksmith looked right into my eyes and I felt my stomach flip flop for a moment. I felt poised on the edge of something, the wind might change it in a second. For one breathless moment I knew…felt that the world was just beginning to weaken around me. The fabric of the smithy was tearing a little at the seams.
"Are you sure you know?" he asked.
I was afraid. I knew there would be no changing my mind with this one, no going back. The warm weight of my baby came to me through the fog and I felt a hot tear slid down my cheek. I kissed the top of Ecthelion's fuzzy head.
"Absolutely," I said.
I turned around and I never looked back.
Barb's POV
A summer storm had wandered across Middle Earth, seeking a suitable place to drench. Spying Minas Tirith, it apparently decided to settle there, and the dark clouds began to gather more and more thickly. I like rain. I like the calm before it breaks loose. I sat in the Steward's garden, watching it come. I needed the quiet.
For the life of me, I could not forget what the blacksmith had said. Despite his funny habit of repeating "if you follow me" his words carried more weight than they should have.
"Hey, Barb." Emily carried Ecthelion on one hip, and stood at the end of the path "You're going to have to come in soon. Feel the wind picking up, you don't want to be caught out in that."
She waved towards the slowly roiling, boiling clouds that smothered the sky.
"Em, wait." I called before she turned away "Wait. Come and see, I've never seen a storm so close. I'll come in for dinner soon."
Emily could never resist romantic views. She stood beside me, the wind catching her hair, and pulling it into a long dark stream behind her. She looked like a medieval noble lady, in her clothes and, now, even the way she moved. It wasn't an act for her, I realized. She actually was…uh a medievilly ( that's definitely not a real word) noble lady.
"Ga." Ecthelion said solemnly, and pointed a chubby hand towards the storm.
I raised my eyebrows. Emily shrugged.
"That is his new favorite word. Everything is 'Ga' including me and Boromir.
She smiled, and gathered up her skirt in one hand.
"I think we should take that as "We need to go inside before the storm drenches us all, and we have to change our clothes, and dinner would be cold"." she said.
Not yet, I thought, not yet. I'm not ready.
"You go ahead. I'll be there in a minute, ok?"
Emily paused, her eyes dark for a moment, as if she were trying to see beyond me. Then she smiled faintly- though, for a moment, her eyes seemed full of bright tears.
"You take care." she said softly, and turned away, slowly. Ecthelion looked over her shoulder.
"Ga." he called back, and waved.
"You too, baby." I called.
Then I was alone in the garden. The very wind seemed to start darkening, and began to blow faster. It pulled at my hair and clothes, like thousands of hands urging me away, and pushing me somewhere safe. I didn't want to leave, not yet, not before- and just then raindrops began to fall. Few and scattered at first, it came in weak gusts.
I felt disappointed. The way the wind was blowing, the storm would sweep right past minas Tirith with only a light shower.
I was about to leave, when I saw, like a wall of water, the rain sweeping towards me. I have never seen anything like it, before or since. I can only describe it as it was: rain before it hit, rushing towards me. I gasped, and as the first lightening flashed above, I seemed to be able to see actual hands, moving, working in the wind, pushing the wall towards me.
It washed over me, before I had the chance to run. In one shockingly cold burst, I was soaking wet. I stood, trying to find my breath. I was still standing there, when suddenly the blacksmith was there. He wasn't wearing his apron, and his eyes shone a strange, urgent blue. He held out a big, rough hand
"Come on." he shouted over the first roar of lightening "We cannot afford to miss this."
It made no sense, but I put my hand in his, and he pulled me along. Not inside, as I half-expected, but away, away, and out into the streets.
"What's happening?" I almost had to scream. The storm seemed to fling itself downward, a grey mist filling the white streets. No one else was around of course- anyone with good sense was inside.
"Our only chance is now, we must take it." His hand gripped my wrist tighter, and he glanced back briefly, black hair whipping about his face "You must trust me, Barbara."
As we ran, the wind seemed to be growing stronger and stronger. Anything that wasn't nailed down was picked up and carried by the breeze. However, I found the tighter I held his hand, the easier it was to run, and the less the wind hindered me. A strange, heady exhilaration pumped through my veins.
Then in a moment, my heart failed me. He wanted to take me to the wall top. While lightening flashed almost continuously, and thunder roared louder than a thousand battles, he was taking me-up!
"What on earth are you thinking about?" I yelled "Are you trying to get me killed?"
He stopped so suddenly, at the bottom of the stairs, I skidded into him, almost falling on the slick white stone. He half-caught me, and gripped my shoulders. His eyes now shone brighter than the lightening, his face white. I knew, this was not the blacksmith, puttering about his anvil, and making Ecthelion laugh. It wasn't even the man I had seen in the garden, or who pulled me through the streets.
"This." he shouted, even his voice seeming to change "Is where trust comes in. I cannot help you if you fight me."
I stood for a moment, and in that moment, there was a single instant of calm.
"Trust me." he whispered.
I took his hand again.
"Ok." I whispered back.
Up the steps we ran, the storm continuing as if that moment had never been. No, worse. We stood together on the wall top, and, far away, another wall of dark, hideous rain swept towards us both. I could not help, but be afraid. He turned to me, and I clung to him, feeling that I would be blown away when it hit.
"The balance," he called, into the face of the storm "Will be renewed. Will become complete, and shall be whole."
His voice, rose, stronger and stronger, overcoming the wind, the thunder, until it was only his voice.
"And shall…be…whole!"
Then, the rain swept over us both, everything becoming dark. For a brief second, I felt the rain, and the strong arms of the blacksmith around me. Then, I was falling, weightless, but falling. Falling. Like…coming to Middle Earth, like coming to Cadaras. The voice seemed to follow, so powerful and terrible I could not bear it.
This is trust
And, then, silence.
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Emily's POV
The rain poured over the city in wave after wave. Ecthelion was peacefully sleeping in his cradle and Boromir was going over a few papers at his desk. I walked up and down the hallway waiting for Barbie to come in---although, I somehow knew that when she left with the blacksmith that she was going home.
"Excuse your lordship, milady," a soggy foot solider came dripping into the room a bit out of breath, "But there is a person at the first gate demanding to see you."
"Who is it?" Boromir asked he rose and fastened his sword on as he went. He was always cautious.
"A elf milord. He says he is from Rivendell and is a friend of the Lady Barbara. He says he must see her immediately."
Boromir glanced at me and I nodded, "She's often mentioned him."
"Then have him brought in…and see that he is treated well, he is a friend to my sister-in-law," Boromir directed.
As soon as the messenger left I went to Boromir and explained that I didn't think that Barbara would be found. He started across the room saying something about her not having got far and the soldiers would never be so remiss in their duties as to allow her to leave the city unattended.
"I don't think she did Boromir," I said. I took a deep breath, "Did you come to our world with an armed guard?"
Boromir stopped and faced me, "She has returned?"
"I believe so. I don't know how or when but I think she is gone. If you searched the city from the top to the bottom I don't think you will find her." I answered and suddenly felt a jerk in my throat as tears began to work their annoying way up to my Mary-Sue eyes.
Just then the door open and a dripping, soaking elf came in and looked eagerly around the room.
"Where is she?" he asked breathlessly.
I shook my head, "She's gone."