CHAPTER 3: GOSSIP

"I heard he left her just as they were about to exchange vows."

"Why come to Imladris, then, if he was here?"

"To have her revenge."

"Well, I heard her sister kept her enslaved and made her do everything."

"Even though she's blind?"

"How did she become blind anyway?"

"During the Kinslayings."

"Truly? She survived that?"

"How else do you explain such devastation to one family?"

XXX

Aníra sighed sadly. The gossip mills had already begun to turn, which, she supposed, wasn't all that surprising. So near and yet so far from the truth were they, it was almost comical. She leaned back, supporting herself by her hands, and allowed the soothing woodland sounds and scents to wash over her. She didn't want to forget any detail.

Bootsteps…ellyn…two of them. Aníra kept still, hoping they'd pass her by.

"Look! Up on those rocks."

"I'll go and tell Naneth."

It was Calanon and Lindir. Aníra waited whilst the latter leapt lightly up beside her.

"Here you are! You had us all worried for a moment."

"I thought I'd take one last morning walk and try to remember this beautiful place."

"Whatever do you mean?"

"We'll have to leave, won't we? The entire Valley will take against me now."

"Why do you say that?"

"Glorfindel is…Glorfindel, whereas I'm just-"

"My dear." Lindir put his hand over hers. "You are a very talented musician, who is liked by a lot of Imladrim. True enough, our beloved Seneschal is overwhelmingly popular, but it is by no means universal. His ego has been due a little bruising for a while now. What you said merely gave voice to what a growing number have been thinking in private."

"But…"

"What if I told you Glorfindel left the Hall not long after you did, looking somewhat stupefied, with both cheeks a rather fetching shade of pink?" He squeezed her hand. "The gossip on the grapevine is leaning far more in your favour, trust me."

Aníra sat there, not knowing quite what to say, but Lindir could always be counted upon to cheer people up. Gradually, a small smile appeared on her face. Now her friend nudged her shoulder playfully.

"Have I convinced you to stay?"

She nudged him back.

"Good. Come on, then, there were some delicious smells wafting from the kitchen just now."

XXX

The group allowed the notes to fade into nothing. Lindir clapped heartily.

"Excellent, everyone! But I think that's enough for now. We'll try it with the descant next time."

They were out in one of the little side-gardens closest to the House. Lindir believed all music should be heard, even if rehearsals were plagued by interruptions. Hopefully, hearing this 'version' would encourage eavesdropping Imladrim to attend the proper performance.

Aníra's ears had found and followed a little Goldfinch's progress. It was only when Rodwen elbowed her that she also caught the sound of approaching bootsteps. All around her people stopped what they were doing. She didn't need Lindir's slightly curt 'Glorfindel' to tell her who it was.

"Beautifully performed as always, Lindir." There was no vocalised response. "I, err, came to see if Aníra could spare me a few moments."

"I'm sure Aníra can answer for herself." A hand was gently placed on Aníra's shoulder. "What say you, my dear?"

The air moved behind and beside her, parchment scrunched, slippers and boots clicked as their owners moved into position. No one spoke. Feeling emboldened, Aníra squared her shoulders.

"I am free…for a little while." Her voice was quite calm.

"Shall I stay?"

Aníra shook her head.

"Very well. Come, come, everyone."

He made his quick little clap that was a hallmark of their rehearsals and everyone melted away. Silence overcame them. Aníra went to sit by a small fountain and trailed her fingers in the water. She wasn't going to make this easy for him.

"It must be odd for you, playing in a group like this?"

"Not so much. I played for a time with the Court Musicians at Lindon."

"You knew High-King Ereinion?"

"A little."

"But…but I visited him, when I…came back."

The shock of realignment was paramount.

"He never mentioned you."

"I wanted to be discreet." Aníra's scepticism must have shown on her face. "I know, I know, it did rather go to my head. I came to apologise."

"Did you indeed? I have yet to hear the words."

"Aníra, I am sorry for all that I said and did. I was a discredit to myself and my House. My parents would have been ashamed of me. I can only hope to eventually earn your forgiveness."

"We cannot ignore my family in this, Glorfindel. Like it or not, like her or not, my sister is a part of me."

"I realise that. Erestor was quite forceful when he took me to task over it. Like a dog to a bone, that one. Be glad you've never been on the wrong side of him. 'T'is a life-lesson, even to those of us who have lived longer. He truly cares about you, you know, perhaps more so than I've ever seen him with another Elf."

"He's always been a very dear friend."

"You've been making a lot of those, I gather, and you have found your true calling. You've finally become the elleth you were meant to be."

At the last, his tone strove for that lower, more intimate note he'd used in Gondolin. Aníra couldn't tell if he'd reached out for her, but she leaned back nonetheless.

"Is any Elf meant to be blind, Glorfindel? I am what I am because of it. Would I be the same person if I were not? I've learnt to embrace it. I hardly notice it these days. I'm no longer the elleth you knew in Gondolin. I no longer need saving."

"No…of course you're not. May I escort you home, my Lady?"

Now his tone was formal, correct…heart-breaking.

Aníra swallowed.

"Thank you."

They set off, arms linked like in the old way, but it was no longer comforting. Aníra's resolve began to crumble. It had been for best.

Hadn't it?

XXX

"I heard he was on his knees begging her, promising her even the Silmarils if only she took him back."

"I heard she's actually in love with someone else but is too scared to tell Lord Glorfindel straight for fear of what he'd do."

"But who could ever compare with him?"

"Ah, but she's never actually seen him, has she? And what the eye doesn't see…"

"Well, I heard Lindir's been seen at their end of the meadow an awful lot recently."

"Paying court to her?"

"Must be."

"Ooo, that would complicate matters, wouldn't it?"

"Ye-e-es, but I don't think it's her he's paying court to."

"Who else is there? Oh no, you don't mean the young silversmith? That's just typical, isn't it? The best ones are always taken."

XXX

"You're a prize idiot, did you know that?"

Gwirith had never been subtle.

"I don't know what you're-"

"Don't play games with me, Aníra, do I really need to say his name?"

"It was for the best. You agreed with me!"

"I agreed you shouldn't forgive him too easily. If it was for the best, why have you been in this foul mood ever since?"

"I have to think things through, to plan-"

"This isn't a trip to the market, Aníra! You were head-over-heels in love with him in Gondolin."

"We're no longer in Gondolin. Things have changed."

"Oh, you do surprise me! Yes, like most ellyn, he had his head stuck pretty far up where the sun doesn't shine, but a single slap from you brought him right back down to Arda. Who else could do that?"

"You're speaking of things you have no idea of! I won't lose my independence again…" Aníra flopped down onto the bed. "I can't."

A hand was placed gently on her shoulder.

"You don't have to lose anything, but you should give him a chance. Otherwise, you will be back in a cage and it will be one of your own making. Do you really want to be asking yourself 'what if' for the rest of your days?"

XXX

Aníra sat for a long time after Gwirith had left, trying to untangle the threads of her mind, but it was hard to know where to begin. She idly plucked the strings of her lute. She needed to grab onto one detail and follow it to the end. What was the one constant in all this? Glorfindel. She feared what he reminded her of, but when she thought of the future, two possibilities presented themselves: One, she lived life at Glorfindel's side; two, she did not and would probably end up leaving Imladris. That thought sent a shiver down her spine. To never hear his voice again, or his assured bootstep, or that funny little rhythm he always tapped with his nails when he was waiting. Did she truly want that life? No. Did she want one with Glorfindel? Yes.

Nothing else mattered.

Suddenly, she realised what she was playing. Surely, he would remember… It would be both a very public and a very private declaration.

XXX

Aníra tugged at Gwirith's sleeve.

"Is Glorfindel here?"

"Err… yes, he is."

"Good, I need you to do something for me…"

The musicians began as they always did, playing some dancing tunes, and then all wished to do so sang. It took a while for Aníra to gather her courage, but she eventually raised her hand.

"I have a song, Lindir."

Once she was settled on the stool, Aníra took a deep, steadying breath and began to sing:

When you taught me how to dance
Years ago with misty eyes
Every step and silent glance
Every move a sweet surprise

Someone must have taught you well
To beguile and to entrance
For that night you cast your spell
And you taught me how to dance

Light reflections in a lake
I recall what went before
As I give, I'll learn to take
And to be alone no more

Other lights may light my way
I may even find romance
But I won't forget that night
When you taught me how to dance (*1)

Few at Imladris had heard Aníra sing up 'til this point so there was a slight pause before the Hall erupted into delighted applause. She'd not counted on this level of reaction so her and Gwirith's progress was held up by all those wishing to bestow their personal compliments.

"Make for the refreshments," Aníra urged.

Gwirith steered them neatly over to one side and they tarried over a goblet of wine, making inconsequential small talk. They only paused once more after this, just enough to allow Gwirith to subtly squeeze Aníra's hand as they moved away from the hubbub. Down the corridor and out into the gardens, where everything would be bathed in Ithil's grace. Gwirith eventually found a more secluded spot and left her cousin sitting there hopefully.

Aníra didn't have long to wait. Soon her ears were picking up the sound of an approaching bootstep. Her heart thrummed as someone sat down next to her and put their broad, calloused hand over hers. She squeezed it gently in return.

"I'd forgotten how beautiful that song was," Glorfindel commented lightly.

"It has always been one of my favourites," answered Aníra.

"I can only hope I never give you cause to regret your choice."

"You won't. I have faith in you."

He hooked a finger under her chin and turned her face towards his.

"I love you."

Aníra felt the gap close between them and leaned forward also, but she wasn't unduly surprised when his lips first made contact with her scars. As they traced a path across her eyes, she marvelled in the intimacy of the gesture. The embrace gradually deepened and if either of them heard the snapping of a twig under a boot or the swish of a gown quickly stifled, they paid them no heed.

It was time for the gossip mills of the Valley to move to a different rhythm.

TBC

*1 As sung by Katie Melua for the film Miss Potter.