Her Rematch

"Rivendell," she thought to herself, "how my heart has missed this place."

Around seventy five years after she had last left it, Mirthanna had been called back to Rivendell. She took in the sight of the trees and the last Homely House before her as she slowly, wondrously dismounted and passed the reins of her horse to someone else. She was dressed for comfort in simple riding clothes, accompanied by two other elves in Dol Amroth's colors, silver and blue. All three of them were armed; times were dangerous, after all.

Elrond of Imladris had called a council, so they had come. That night, they all feasted at one of Rivendell's nightly banquets. The splendour, Mirthanna knew, would not have diminished despite the dark times. She came dressed as she used to dress so often, in all her frivolous clothes: sleeveless white bodice and elegant skirt, long white gloves and a shawl. Unbeknownst to the crowd, this was the first occasion she had had in a long while to appear so gaily dressed.

Mirthanna found an empty seat, next to a blonde elf, fixing her eyes intently on the back of his head. She wondered in the back of her mind if it couldn't be–

"Are you looking for something?" The elf had turned around. No, he certainly was not Glorfindel. The two had only blond hair in common. This elf had lovely blue eyes, and Mirthanna caught herself staring into them, only to blush properly when he spoke to her.

She sat up. "No, I'm so sorry, I though you were someone–"

"Here to capture the heart of the prince of Mirkwood?" It was an altogether too familiar voice, one flooded with sarcasm. Mirthanna closed her eyes in either defiance or annoyance, and with acceptance, turned to look up at his face.

"Hello, Glorfindel. How have you been?"

"Is the love of one man not enough for you?" Glorfindel went on, taunting as though he knew the answer. "Must you have yet another?"

"It's good to see you too. I've been pretty well, myself."

"Are you here for the council? I do not see your husband." He went on coldly, "Have you left him for someone else?" He gestured towards the prince.

Mirthanna turned to him, and apologized, then stood up to look Glorfindel in the eye. "My husband is dead," she replied steadily. "He was killed by orcs. We were married, of course, but we were never bound," she told him, "I owe it to you, to tell you that, at least."

Propriety stopped Glorfindel's next attack, as Mirthanna dropped his gaze and looked down. "I'm sorry for your loss," he said, more gently, "May Mandos bless his soul."

"Indeed."

Glorfindel looked down as well, and his gaze caught on Mirthanna skirts. The bottoms were tattered and frayed. She noticed him looking and ruffled her skirts to try and hide it, but he had already seen. He laughed. "You were so smart, so clever! I would have thought you at least used those talents to marry into wealth!"

Mirthanna's cheeks burned. "So you see now how you have ruined my life? My people, they looked to me when they were in trouble, just as they should have, and all the inheritance of my husband has gone to helping them, but it wasn't enough! Yes we were wealthy, but the destruction was too much. My husband, he spent too much on frivolity, and because of you my family will not help me to care for my people. My mother and father say I dishonored them, that my scandal in Rivendell caused them shame. My ladies will not forgive me for tricking you, they say, for hurting you. Lastir will never forgive me for lying to him! It is because of you that I have no one but myself, it is all your fault!"

"Why you– how dare you accuse me of such– if you had never lied and tricked in the first place, you would be in no such position!"

"I never intended to lie for so long! I wanted – I came back, didn't I? And this is how you greet me? You loved me!"

"You– "

The prince of Mirkwood, tired of intruding on something not just seemingly personal, stood up and left. Only a moment later, he ran into Aragorn, weaving through the crowd in a curious manner.

"Looking for someone?" he greeted the Ranger.

Aragorn laughed and embraced his friend. "Yes, I am looking for someone, but it isn't you." He turned his head, then turned around. "I'm looking for an old friend, or, rather, two of them," Aragorn replied, "I need to see if..."

"You are impossible!" Mirthanna shouted, causing a small scene in the corner of the room. She and Glorfindel both stormed off in opposite directions, Mirthanna heading towards them.

"No, apparently not," Aragorn murmured under his breath. Mirthanna came over to the two of them and leaned her elbow on Legolas' shoulder.

"I'm very sorry you had to see that," she told him honestly. Then, realization struck her and she said to him, "Wait, I don't think we've been properly introduced." Amused, Legolas shook his head no as Mirthanna took her elbow off his shoulder and greeted him in a more socially acceptable manner. "I'm Mirthanna, and I know that you are a wood elf, from Mirkwood, meaning that you probably won't think it's inappropriate for me to introduce Glorfindel, the elf I was...talking to as my former lover."

Legolas smiled. "I guessed as much. Only love or hatred could provoke such a fearsome quarrel."

Mirthanna stared. "Trust me, it's more than a mere quarrel."

"I am Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood."

"It's very nice to meet you." Mirthanna curtseyed. "And this is?" She gestured to Aragorn, who stood a few inches taller than she did. As she did so, something caught her eye, and she turned to face him full on. "Estel?" she asked incredulously.

With a smile, Aragorn nodded, and with an excited yelp, Mirthanna jumped into his arms, embracing her human friend. "It's good to see you! It's been years!"

Legolas smiled. "I see you two are already acquainted."

"Of course!" Mirthanna exclaimed, excited in her recollections. "I've know Estel since he was, well, not much smaller than he is now! But since he was twelve. Bless Eru it's been so many years," she said, pulling Aragorn's arm over her shoulders.

"I used to run errands for her," Aragorn recollected for Legolas with a laugh, "I was always searching for Glorfindel, just because she wanted to see him." Legolas arched an eyebrow, and Aragorn continued, "Oh, don't worry, believe it or not it was much more subtle than what he was always up to." Aragorn suddenly sobered. "Do you plan on apologizing to him, maybe?"

Mirthanna nodded. "My husband's dead, Aragorn, and...I had planned to, I mean, before– well, you heard what he said." Mirthanna looked down.

Aragorn looked away. "Will I see you at the Council tomorrow?"

"Of course," she replied, extracting herself from Aragorn. "Middle Earth's peril is one of the few things that would have put me in the same room as Glorfindel again." She hugged Aragorn with a smile. "Don't let Glorfindel see this; he'd probably call me a whore again."

"It's good to have you back, Anna."

"It's good to see you, and it's good to be back too."

Later that night Mirthanna came to the balcony, called by the sounds of metal clanging and cheers. She looked out at the view and laughed.

"What are you doing?"

"Oh, come on Anna," cried Aragorn. "We're to spend all of tomorrow in council, sitting for a whole day, no less! At least let us have our fun."

"Oh, of course, you men have your fun," she called back, "But I meant what were you doing not asking me to join you!"

They laughed and gestured for her to come down and spar in the garden with them. She just giggled and shook her head, turning back to the banquet.

"It's just as well," she heard the all too familiar voice say. "We'd probably have to take mercy on her anyway."

Mirthanna practically flew down the stairs and out the door to the garden. "Estel, your rooms are closest. Go quickly and get me a pair of your pants. Glorfindel and I are sparring," she caught his eye, "Just like old times."

She took off her shawl and her gloves. When Aragorn came back, she stripped off the skirt of her gown and pulled on the pants, which were only slightly to big. Only Glorfindel and the wood elves didn't turn away.

"You know, this never was your area of expertise," Glorfindel smirked.

"You were my teacher," she replied coolly, never looking up as she tied her shawl around her waist as a sort of makeshift belt. "Maybe you should have spent more time teaching me and less time kissing me." Mirthanna looked up and looked around as she finished. "Legolas, give me your knives." He hesitated. "Well?"

Slowly he brought one out of its sheath, a standard issue knife of the Mirkwood Guard. Mirthanna waited, "I need a set, you know." As though giving up, Legolas retrieved the second knife from the sheath. It was different, made of mithril and silver, inlayed with purple stones and a vine carving, as well as an engraving in tengwar script.

The knife was gorgeous, both from a craftsman's point of view and from a warrior's. It was obvious to Mirthanna, who looked worried, that these two knives were not an intended match, but as she felt their matching weight and the way they both fit comfortably in her hands, she approved. She eyed Legolas curiously, a look in her eyes asking for an explanation, the look in his eyes saying, "later, maybe." She spun the knives and set herself in front of Glorfindel.

"These will do."

He stood in front of her and they began. Their pace was slow at first. "I can't remember why I dreaded these lessons," Glrofindel remarked lazily. "They seem quite boring, now that I think about it."

"Maybe it was because you always came out of them bleeding," Mirthanna replied, with more evident concentration than her opponent. There was some laughter.

"You were just clumsy, and I was constantly giving you mercy." Their pace quickened noticeably.

"You were arrogant, you're arrogant now. What about the time I cracked your ribs?"

"It was just one rib, and I was caught off guard." The knives flashed faster now.

"Didn't you tell me a warrior is always on guard?" Faster.

"They're also usually honest, but I think you chose to disregard that one." Trickier.

"Damn it, Glor–"

"Don't start, who–"

They had each been down to one knife, but at the sound of what he threatened to call her, Mirthanna gave an expert flick with her remaining knife. Glorfindel's knife flew out of his hand as Mirthanna's sweeping kick caught him and tripped him down on his back, at her feet.

"Yield for mercy," she said, her fire in her eyes threatening to burn his.

"Never, not for you," Glorfindel replied with equal ferocity.

"Yield!" She demanded, her knife at his throat.

"Not for a spoilt child playing with her husband's toys!"

"I didn't want to prove myself to you like this, not with violence, no. I wanted rational words, I wanted to apologize and I wanted to start again. I came back as a different person, ready to admit my wrongdoings, and then I saw you, and you talked to me like I was trash, and now, now we're hear. Eru, I didn't want to do this..." She ran her blade down to his neck. The other elves rushed forward to stop her. Drawing blood during play matches was strictly not allowed, but Mirthanna held up one finger to them, and they stopped. She pressed the point of the knife into Glorfindel's neck. "Yield."

Glorfindel said nothing. She took her knife away without a drop of blood. She had cut Glorfindel's neck, but the cut that remained did not bleed. He reached up to it.

"Do not touch it," she warned, collecting her second dagger and passing the set back to Legolas. "It stings something awful when you do." She picked up her belongings– her skirt and her gloves. "It's a trick," she informed him, "One I learned from the orcs. They like to torture women before stealing their honor." The men looked at her, shocked, as she lifted her chin to show off a scar. "Don't worry, I kept my honor." Mirthanna flipped up Glorfindel's knife with her boot heel (Glorfindel noticed with some sort of emotion– guilt, was it? Or maybe longing– that they were the same beloved boots she had worn seventy five years ago, that she had just been wearing underneath her fancy, but tattered clothes.) "You can have your pants back when you claim them from my quarters," she told Aragorn over her shoulder, winking. Then she threw the knife back to Glorfindel and left.

"Elf wh–"

"Don't even say it," the Mirkwood prince warned, and he left the sparring circle, still clutch his knives in his hands.

"Glorfindel, listen to me," Aragorn said, as the other elves resumed their play, possibly unaware of the depth of the situation around them. "I think you need to let go, just a little bit. I think you need to hear what Anna has to say."

"She– it was her– did you hear what she just said to you? What she said just now?" Glorfindel stammered out. "I should forgive that?"

"Anna and I used to have that sort of laugh all the time," Aragorn answered, "Back when you were both in love."

"Back when we were in love?"

"Yes, you were in love."