DISCLAIMER: This is Fanfiction. All I gain by publishing this story is enjoyment.

A/N: Hey, everyone! A little later than planned, but at least it's still January… However, I would advise all newcomers to read Part One first, as it gives a solid background to this story. It is published within The Silmarillion annals.

A/N 2: Also, let me say from the outset that I am not blind, neither do I know anyone who is. What follows is merely my personal interpretation of a particular scenario. I hope you like it.

A TALE OF TWO ELVEN CITIES: PART 2 – IMLADRIS

CHAPTER 1: A NEW HOME

"Aníra, come over here!" Gwirith called.

Aníra urged her friend, Alassiel, towards her cousin's voice.

"Is it worth it?" she whispered.

"Honestly, Aníra, if I could give you my sight for one moment, I would."

"As good as that?"

"Oh, yes!" Gwirith breathed rapturously.

Aníra closed her eyes, for she found it helped to concentrate her mind. There was a great waterfall crashing down somewhere close by. Its echoes helped to convey the enormity of the valley that stretched out before them. Even now, this spot had become legendary amongst the Firstborn, for it was here that the Lord Elrond had first decided to establish his haven – the Last Homely House East of the Sea. A place for peace and learning, Elves had flocked to it, certain of their welcome. Now it was the turn of Aníra and her family. Límdur, Aníra's cousin-in-law, was a talented silversmith and he had long been in contact with Caraníon, an old friend and trading partner now based at Imladris. It was his extensive passages on his new home that had persuaded Límdur to make the move, along with Gwirith, their son Calanon, and Aníra.

Aníra had taken some convincing. Despite her current life being so far removed from that which she had endured in Gondolin, she still found it hard going anywhere new. She needed familiarity of space and stability of routine. Not that strangers would think so, for Aníra moved around with the same ease and grace as any other Elf. It was only when they were face-to-face that they would see the puckered skin and cloudy eyes. Then, perhaps, they would recall a hand at an elbow, or the sight of deft fingers moving over every surface, constantly gathering information about their surroundings. Nevertheless, having gone away to think about it, Aníra did acquiesce to the notion. Perhaps her sister Baudhiel, despite being confined to Mandos' Halls, was still managing to influence her actions, albeit benignly. It was safer for her to obey.

Now here they all were, staring over Lord Elrond's Hidden Valley, poised to begin this new chapter in the life-story of Arda.

XXX

Having been informed of their arrival, Caraníon came out to meet them and to escort them to the two cottages he had selected for their use.

"We had to knock one about a bit to make the dimensions as accurate as possible, but I believe it's a near enough match to your requirements. There is the large garden you asked for, though."

"Thank you, Caraníon, I appreciate your efforts on my behalf," said Aníra as they followed him away from the main House towards more open areas of meadow.

"Think nothing of it. We all help each other. No one job is considered more important than another. Although, when I extolled your talents as a silversmith to Lord Elrond, Límdur, he seemed quite happy to have poached you from Círdan!"

"Only now he gets two," put in Calanon, somewhat proudly.

"Indeed? Well, I look forward to witnessing your skill, young one. Ah, here we are. There is some provender already in the pantry but do ask if you want anything else. I know you'll want time to settle in. When you're ready, I'll show you the House and gardens."

They supped on cold meat, cheese, freshly baked bread, and fruit salad, washed down with some rather fine Valley-grown wine. Then they all pitched in to ready Aníra's cottage as quickly possible. Once she had announced it satisfactory, they moved on to the other cottage whilst Aníra became better acquainted with her garden.

Eventually, all was as it should be and Caraníon called upon them to take them on the promised tour. He began with a basic history of Imladris and its ethos. Aníra only half-listened to his discourse, for she was concentrating on all the sounds that were so different from the port city of Mithlond. Soon, however, Caraníon's voice changed in tone and began to echo in the manner of being inside. Yet they didn't seem to be wholly inside because the playful Valley breeze was still wafting about them.

"We'll start with the Hall of Fire. Now, it's use during daylight hours is for solitary contemplation, but, once Ithil has risen…"

Here, Aníra stopped listening entirely. She could now hear two other voices coming towards them from the opposite direction. Both were male and one was heart-stoppingly familiar.

"Good morrow, Istuion, Master-"

"Erestor!" Aníra cried out, halting everyone.

"Aníra?" Erestor's voice was cautious, as well it might be. "Is it really…No, it…"

"It is me, Erestor! I imagine I've changed somewhat."

"My word, you have! I-I hardly recognised you."

Aníra put out her hand and Erestor took it. She felt with delight the same slender hand and long, tapering fingers, but there was something else.

"I think you've changed as well, Erestor. Are these robes I can feel?"

"Yes. I am Chief Councillor to Lord Elrond."

"Oh, congratulations! And, if you don't mind my saying so, that's a far worthier occupation for you than Gondolin's Guardian of the Fountain…" There was a sharp intake of breath from somewhere behind Erestor. "Tell me, did you ever manage to finish your translation of the Verses?"

Beneath her fingers, Aníra felt Erestor tense and pull away from her.

"I do not recall such a work." His voice was polite, but crisp. "It would be a senseless translation in any case. Hardly anyone is at ease with that language."

"But, Erestor…"

"You and your party have a long walk ahead of you and I must attend a Council meeting. I will hold you up no further. Good day."

Robes swished passed Aníra and she was left where she stood, trying to fathom out precisely what she'd just heard. The tour continued, but Aníra was no longer paying it any heed. She felt sure the Erestor she knew in Gondolin would never have forgotten his translation of the Bard.

XXX

"Aníra!" The sudden, involuntary flexion of Calanon's elbow matched his tone and he drew them to a halt. "There's that ellon from earlier, the stiff, funereal one, Master…err…Erestor."

Aníra frowned. She wouldn't have put Erestor's name with those adjectives. Quiet maybe, but never stiff, and as for funereal…

"Truly?" she asked.

"He's certainly no sunshine. Dressed all over in black velvet and sitting as though he's got a poker up his-"

"Calanon!" Límdur hissed.

By now they had reached Aníra's little wicket gate.

"Do you want us to stay?"

"No, I'll be fine, thank you."

She entered her garden and followed the string to the wooden marker opposite the bench set amongst the new sprigs of lavender.

"Greetings, Erestor." She couldn't help but keep a little stiffness in her own voice.

"Aníra, I've come to apologise for my manner earlier. It was uncalled for. I am sorry. I was surprised, to say the least, to see you."

"Well, we Gondolindrim are rather few and far between these days, aren't we?"

"Indeed, we are."

Aníra sighed sadly.

"Did you wish to come in?"

She led the way to the kitchen, poured out two glasses of juice, and them both a slice of passion cake. She didn't speak at all during this proceeding, allowing Erestor the usual time to gaze curiously around her home. Her mind turned to the windchimes that hung in every room, each set to a different timbre, thus allowing her to find her way around unaided. Eyebrows most likely quirked at sight of all her ornaments, but the more patient observer would note their very tactile appearance. They would also notice her lute, standing in pride of place in the drawing room. Of course, Aníra didn't need sheet music to be able to play, which she did frequently. Gwirith, Límdur, and Calanon saw to it that she never went too long without company. That said, she did have a companion in her home, but Ëarosto was an elderly cat whose sole purpose in life seemed to be finding the warmest, sunniest spot to sleep in.

"Your home is lovely, Aníra," Erestor commented approvingly. "And you yourself are looking very well."

"Thank you. Mine is a good life these days. How about you, how do you find living in Imladris? I've heard many wondrous stories about it."

"Mine is a fulfilling role here; it's rewarding to have so much responsibility."

Aníra frowned, for the answer felt slightly evasive. Then she brightened, remembering something from long ago.

"Wait where you are a moment, I'll be right back." She dashed to her chamber and returned clutching one of her most treasured possessions. "Here, Erestor, look at this." She handed him a little figurine.

A robed ellon stood at a lectern, curled quill raised in motion, a roll of parchment piling up at his feet.

"He reminds me of you. Do you remember the day we met?"

"I do."

"I always thought you would be happiest at your desk and now look at you – Chief Councillor! Glorfindel took me to this little wood-carver's stall as he walked me home and said I could have any carving I wanted."

"And y-you chose me?"

For the first time, Erestor sounded a little blind-sided. Aníra had the sneaking suspicion it was a state of being he feel often, if at all. She reached out and gently touched the slender wrist. The intimacy was allowed for only a moment.

"I should get back to work," said Erestor briskly as he rose.

"You will come again, won't you?"

"If I have time."

Erestor had a quick step, but Aníra managed to waylay him at the door.

"We are still friends, aren't we?"

"Yes…of course we are, Aníra. I just prefer to look to the future and the great heights to which this Valley will undoubtedly assail."

Aníra's only response was a muted nod of acknowledgement. Erestor briefly squeezed her fingers and was gone.

XXX

Birds twittered as they chased each other, bees buzzed around the garden, some way off there was the sound of a waterfall. Aníra sat on her bench, warmed by the sun. The summer heat seemed less oppressive here than it had in Gondolin. Maybe it was because Yavanna's Bounty was given even freer rein than it had there. Whatever the reason, she already felt at home here and fervently hoped they wouldn't move again. Aníra's growing familiarity with her new surroundings was adding daily to her confidence.

Límdur and Calanon were off seeing to their nascent workshop so Aníra had come to keep Gwirith company. She played music while her cousin went about her many tasks.

A twig snapped suddenly very close by, but Aníra's fingers paused only briefly in their journey across the lute. She had long ago stopped being surprised at another's presence, for her whole being was more attuned to her surroundings these days. She was dimly aware of the garden gate being opened and then someone walking slowly toward her. They were heavier steps, so it was an ellon. They stopped just short of the bench as though their owner knew not to interrupt. Then, as the final notes faded into the air, he spoke:

"Erestor was correct, your music is quite enchanting." It was another new voice, masculine and calm, although not as softly spoken as Erestor. "May I join you?"

Aníra nodded obligingly and turned to face the ellon as he sat beside her. A broad hand was placed in her own and the ellon waited patiently whilst she explored it and his wrist. Solid hand and wrist moved seamlessly into a muscled arm, which was clothed in a rich, silky fabric. This ellon was particularly broad-shouldered, quite a distinctive feature in a race that was generally tall and willowy.

"I am Elrond."

This made Aníra straighten immediately and self-consciously withdraw her hands into her lap.

"Forgive me the liberty, Lord Elrond!" she flustered.

"Nay, Aníra, don't fret. Any friend of Erestor's is a friend of mine. Now, he tells me you knew each other in Gondolin?"

"Yes, briefly."

"And you came here from Mithlond, am I correct?"

"Yes. I enjoyed being so close to the sea for once."

"I should think a life on the open-seas is a very exciting one. Círdan is always trying to coax me out to the coast, but I am too fond of my books and horses. Both mix less well with water than Elves, I think!"

Aníra nodded, feeling a subtle relaxation begin to spread over her.

"However, Erestor also tells me that you are a very talented musician and, from the little bit I heard just now, I would have to heartily concur! I could do with some more musicians in the House. Would you be willing to share your talents with others?"

Aníra's soul thrummed at the prospect, but even now she still retained an element of restraint.

"I don't…feel all that comfortable with change…and we've only just arrived…and, err…"

Again, that broad hand covered her own.

"I'm not pressuring you, Aníra, just promise me you'll think about it?"

"I will."

"And you'll be welcome up at the House at any time."

"Thank you, Lord Elrond, I'll remember that."

"That's all I ask, but for now I shall leave you in peace."

Not long after Lord Elrond's measured bootsteps had faded away, Aníra heard Gwirith coming from the other direction.

"I've brought you some tea, Cousin." The tray chinked slightly as she set it down between them. "Who were you talking to – as a matter of interest?"

Aníra's lips twitched at the unsubtly casual tone.

"Lord Elrond."

"The Lord Elrond? Ooo, you do have a talent for mixing with the great and the good. Precisely how many gatherings did you actually go to during that season? Remind me."

Aníra ignored the bait.

"What did he look like?"

"He's dark, dressed in an earthy-red colour…"

"He felt quite broad, muscly."

"I would say so. He is a Peredhel, don't forget, so he must have inherited the physique of the Secondborn. Hmm, it'll be a lucky Elf who secures his heart. What did he want, anyway?"

"He invited me to be a musician up at the House"

"Will you?"

"I'd like to, but…"

"But what? Aníra, we go through this every – single – time. Once the Imladrim hear you, they won't care what you look like. They'll barely even notice. You're not going to be the only one, are you?"

"I don't think so."

"Well, then…you'll be one in a crowd."

Aníra knew Gwirith was right, but she couldn't help hesitating, even in this wonderful place. It was simply a facet of her character she couldn't shake off, despite the years of effort her family had put in to untangling all the lies and half-truths, and then teasing out her true self.

XXX

Gwirith only held back until the next morning before confronting Aníra again.

"I have little to do at the moment, Cousin, shall we take a walk up to the House and find Lord Elrond?"

Aníra exhaled exasperatedly.

"You have thought about his suggestion, haven't you?"

"Of course I have."

"And? Do you want to?"

"Yes, but-"

"That's settled, then. Come on."

So Aníra allowed herself to be escorted up to the light and airy building that was the very soul of Imladris. At least the journey would be a slow one, to allow Aníra to become better acquainted with her surroundings. She had her stick to tap along the ground and was able to produce a series of clicks and whistles. She found that a combination of these noises helped her to locate objects around her and needed only a few guided walks before she was able to find her own way.

"This is a beautiful building," sighed Gwirith as they wandered along one of the open hallways. "Now, we must find someone…ah! Excuse me, we've come to visit Lord Elrond, he called upon my cousin yesterday."

"I believe Lord Elrond is in his study, please follow me."

The ellon led them quite a way from that first hallway, up various flights of stairs, before he knocked on a heavy wooden door and stepped in when bidden to do so.

"Two visitors for you, my Lord."

"Thank you, Arandur. Aníra, what a pleasant surprise! I didn't expect to see you quite so soon as this. Please sit, ladies."

"My cousin, my Lord, doesn't tend to take too much persuading where music is involved."

"Just as my cousin doesn't tend to take 'no' for an answer."

Lord Elrond laughed out loud at that – full and heartily.

"I can tell already I'm going to enjoy your company, Aníra. I assume you have come to consent?"

"I have."

"In that case, once we have drunk a toast to our new venture, I will find Lindir and introduce you both."

XXX

The atmosphere in the Hall of Fire was excited as all about them waited eagerly for the dancing.

Aníra felt Lindir lightly touch her wrist, silently asking if she was ready. She nodded her assent. First his pipes struck up a cheerful tune, and then Aníra's lute added a layer, and finally, the rest of the small ensemble filled the gaps.

Elves began to clap and gasp delightedly as they were pulled toward the centre of the Hall. There followed a carefree evening of songs, laughing, and dancing, where everyone was a complement to everyone else, and the musicians strove ever further towards flights of fancy and magic. Aníra didn't join in the dancing, as it was her first time at such a gathering at Imladris and she was still rather shy, but she did enjoy herself. Whilst rehearsing with the others was wonderful in itself, having an audience was just that little bit more special. Everyone she'd met had made her feel welcome, and no one pressed her to do or say more than she was comfortable with. Already she was beginning to understand what made Imladris so unique, with all inhabitants allowed to carve their own paths in whatever way they chose. She couldn't wait to fit into her musical niche.

Whatever had happened to Aníra before now, she would be eternally grateful to the Valar for guiding her to this place. Only they could tell what other wonders awaited her here.

TBC