CHAPTER 4: SCALES
"Which one do you think?"
They were in Aníra's chamber trying to decide which of her new gowns she should wear to the Avowal Ceremony. It was certainly a wonderful bounty, full of colours and fabrics they'd never heard of, let alone thought to wear. It had been rather comical over the past year – once Glorfindel had finally asked Aníra to bind with him. The Elf-Lord did not habitually spend his coin, but traders could live on the profits for months afterwards. Now he had a bride to lavish gifts upon, those who had once been politely welcoming were suddenly tripping over themselves to assure her that nothing was too much trouble.
"How about the navy with lace sleeves?" suggested Gwirith.
"You don't think the wine-red?"
"It is a lovely shade, but you wear a lot of red. You'll be the centre of attention tomorrow; we need to milk that for all it's worth."
"Personally, I think you should wear the emerald one with pink and white embroidery. That shade would offset the tints in your hair beautifully. Do you not think so, Celebrían?" They both started at this sudden, feminine intrusion. "My apologies. I am Galadriel of Lórien and this is my daughter Celebrían. We could not allow Glorfindel to speak his vows without us being present at the ceremony. We wanted to offer our good wishes to the bride. The ellyn are no doubt reacquainting themselves over a goblet of Elrond's finest so we will not be missed."
"Please come through, my Lady," Aníra said nervously, painfully conscious she was clad in only her linen undergarments.
In the few minutes Aníra and Gwirith were alone, they clutched each other in anticipation. The Lady Galadriel! The only leader of the Ñoldorin exiles to remain in Arda, who had been entrusted with Nenya, and who had enriched Lórien by planting Mallorn nuts, using her very own hands. Their beauty and her power were legendary.
"What a sweet cottage you have, Aníra, if I may call you so? Do you plan to keep it once you have bonded?"
"I hope so."
"Quite right, too," said Lady Galadriel approvingly. "We must not allow ellyn to become too used to having their own way! Now, then, these gowns. May we see you in the emerald?"
Once Aníra was clad in the aforementioned gown, Lady Galadriel circled her.
"Hmmm, it's still missing something," she said speculatively.
"How about some flowers from the garden for your hair?" queried Celebrían in a soft voice. "I spotted some lovely buds as we came in."
"Yes, that might work," said Gwirith.
"May I collect some, my Lady?"
It took Aníra a couple of seconds to react, for it still seemed slightly odd, this change in her 'status'. When Celebrían came back, she was rather flustered.
"Naneth! Naneth! Adar is approaching with the Lords Glorfindel and Elrond!"
With a brisk swish of her skirts, Lady Galadriel crossed the chamber.
"Bridal business – no ellyn allowed!" she called authoritatively and closed the shutters with a snap.
XXX
They spoke their vows outside in one of the larger gardens. The day had started out warm and sunny, but then grew chilly and there was a touch of rain in the air. Erestor suggested moving indoors, but Aníra was firm in her denial. It may have been coincidence, or maybe the Valar continued to watch over their emissary, for the rain held off until they were ready to seal their vows with a kiss. The assembled crowd began running for cover, only noticing the absence of the main couple when they turned back.
What they saw would have melted even the hardest of hearts: the legendary warrior gazing down at his Avowed Wife as tenderly as though she were a newborn elfling, while Aníra carefully traced the outline of his features. Glorfindel understood what she was doing and allowed her all the time she wanted before they finally came together for their first kiss as an Avowed couple. They then gifted each other with a jewel from their families to signify their own acceptance. As Glorfindel had no family present, he himself placed the long-ago-promised Golden Flower pendant around Aníra's neck. She made way for Gwirith, who pinned upon Glorfindel's resplendent robe a silver brooch in the shape of a lute decorated with tiny drops of amber. Throughout all this, the rain continued unabated and the onlookers eventually gave up waiting and ran out to join the trio, alive with laughter and congratulations. When night fell, the new couple retired to Aníra's cottage to complete the marriage ritual and form their own, unique bond.
XXX
Once Aníra and Glorfindel had emerged as fully bonded mates, they found they were quickly able to settle into a comfortable routine: they breakfasted either on their own or with their family before spending the majority of the day in and around the main House. Glorfindel's magnificent chambers in the House became his study. Aníra would come and play the lute whilst he completed his reports.
It was a happy existence, not only for them but for all who came to settle in the Valley. They were little troubled by events in other parts of Arda, although Aníra perhaps understood more than most because Glorfindel would share news with her as it was reported back by Elrond's ambassadors. For the most part, it was inconsequential Court news, but worrying snippets were starting to emerge.
When Ar-Adûnakhôr became the twentieth King of Númenor, he took his royal name not in Quenya, but in the Ardûnaic tongue. A small act perhaps, but it signified the beginning of the old alliances between Elves and Men breaking apart. While some Men recognised the folly in this and remained faithful to the Valar, the tide of change and eventual corruption by the Dark Lord Sauron were unabating.
The Númenórians began to worship Morgoth and desired immortality, even attempting to assail Valinor for it. In their desperation, the Valar appealed to Eru Ilúvatar, who destroyed the Númenórian host, by crushing it under stones, as well as causing the whole of Númenor to sink under the Great Ocean. Just a few royal men of Númenor, led by Elendil the Tall, and his two sons, Isildur and Anárion, survived. They set sail to Arda and established the Kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor. Arda itself was made spherical and Valinor was put further out of reach.
Sauron, however, had not been completely destroyed and returned to Mordor to rebuild himself in body and spirit. All too soon, he launched a fresh attack against Gondor. In response to this renewed threat, the Free Peoples of Arda united to form the Last Alliance. Led by both King Elendil and High-King Ereinion, the Alliance spent five years preparing, firstly by gathering forces, and then by forging weapons and training at Imladris. Glorfindel was greatly involved in this work, and he was in his element in doing so. For her part, Aníra did her best to support him. Knowing she had bonded with a true warrior, it was all she could do, apart from hoping he would not be slain in battle.
When the Last Alliance met with Sauron on the plains of Dagorlad, they managed to destroy the main force, but not the leader. It was only when Elendil and Ereinion faced Sauron in hand-to-hand combat several years later that he was finally defeated. But the victory was bittersweet, for both leaders perished and so, too, did the Ñoldorin realms of Arda, as their inhabitants took the decision to sail to Valinor.
Thus, the Second Age of Arda came to a decidedly dramatic conclusion.
XXX
To those who knew him well, Elrond was becoming increasingly distracted, taken to spending many long moments staring into the distance. He was also spending more time shut away in his study, whilst, Erestor noted, with a faint hint of vexation, the amount of messages travelling between Imladris and Lórien was steadily increasing.
"Well, well, Erestor, my old friend," said Glorfindel cheekily, "It appears we must prepare ourselves once more."
"For what?"
"Even you, who is not overly experienced in matters of the heart, cannot failed to have noticed that our Lord and Master has contracted a sickness that only a certain blonde elleth can cure."
"It's taken him a while, hasn't it?" said Aníra, almost disbelieving.
"Ah, but battle has a way of concentrating the mind." He tapped her forehead gently. "Nevertheless, I'd wager he managed to spend some quiet moments thinking about her silky locks and merry laugh."
"How romantic! Don't you agree, Erestor?"
"If you want to believe in that sort of thing."
The quill scratched along the parchment in the way that said its owner had work to do and wanted to be left in peace to do it.
XXX
It was only twenty years after their binding that Celebrían and Elrond excitedly announced Celebrían's being in elfling. Or, to be more precise, in elflings, for she was expecting twin ellyn.
The next twelve months brought a lot of changes to the House as rooms were prepared, clothes and furniture made, and lullabys practised. Once Elladan and Elrohir were born, Aníra – perhaps a tad naively – expected everything to settle down again, but it didn't. The elflings seemed to work in tandem, what one wanted, the other wanted more because he had to wait longer for it. Neither felt any compunction in informing the entire Valley of his feelings.
"They are dear little fellows, really," Glorfindel commented.
"They're running their parents ragged as far as I can tell."
"Yes, but it's all part of the experience. 'Character-forming' as my Adar would say." His arms snaked around her waist and he nuzzled her hair. "Don't you think it's time we started our own family?" he whispered enticingly into her ear before nibbling the lobe.
Aníra could feel her mate's aroused state and normally would have responded in kind, but not this time. She wiggled out of the hold.
"There's time enough for that later surely?"
"We have been bonded a while now. People will start to talk."
His hands began moving across her bodice whilst he planted kisses on her shoulder. Aníra wiggled free again.
"Let them talk. I don't care."
"But don't you want an elfling of your own?" He sounded crestfallen.
Aníra took a while to respond. She had done all she could to avoid this conversation, but had always known it would come up sooner or later.
"Truthfully…no, I don't."
"I'd assumed that that was what all ellyth wanted."
"You should never assume anything. You taught me that."
"I understand your qualms, but-"
"No, I really don't think you do."
"But think of where you've come from. You walk around the cottage and the House as freely as anyone."
"That's not the same thing and you know it."
"Of course adaptations would have to be made, but Gwirith would help you."
"Why not you?"
"Well, you're built for elfling-care, aren't you? Naturally, I will help where I can, but my other work is important, too."
"And mine isn't? The entertainment and comfort of others comes further down the list than parading around in a uniform?"
"Those who came back from Dagorlad and Barad-dûr were heroes."
"Some of those heroes were broken."
"Why can't you understand this from my point of view?"
"Why can't you understand it from mine?"
"Fine – be like that. We'll discuss this later, when you're in a more open frame of mind."
His boots stamped, the door slammed.
They didn't discuss the matter later. In fact, for the first time in a long while, Aníra retired to bed alone.
XXX
There was a knocking at the front door.
"Excellent, he's right on time!"
"I wasn't aware we were expecting anyone."
"I've found a solution."
"To what?"
"To our little problem. Wait there."
"What are you…Glorfindel!"
He was gone. The short exchange of words that followed baffled Aníra completely. When her mate's bootsteps returned, he was accompanied by a lighter, smaller tread.
"Aníra, my love, allow me to introduce our visitor for the day: Nostariel. Now, sweetling, Lady Aníra cannot see so I would like you to go over, give her your hand, and then she can greet you properly."
His tender tone struck a warning bell in Aníra's mind, as did the tiny footsteps that edged nearer. She tentatively stretched out her hand; an elfling's tiny fingers were placed into it.
"Greetings, Lady Aníra," their owner whispered shyly.
Aníra turned to Glorfindel.
"Nostariel's Adar and Naneth were both needed urgently by a friend today. I said you'd be happy to play with her. Now, you two ladies have fun. I'll be back later."
"Wait! Wait! Glorfindel!"
He was gone.
XXX
When Glorfindel did return later on that afternoon, he was confronted by both Aníra and Gwirith. The former was standing by the sink, whilst the latter quickly made her excuses and left.
"How dare you do that to me!"
She was seething with rage and humiliation.
"I'm sor-"
"'Sorry' doesn't even begin to cover it!"
"Will you at least let me explain?"
"Why should I? It was an ordeal from start to end."
"Gwirith was with you."
"Yes, and it was she who did the baking, and the painting, and the reading, and the running around the garden. I stayed in my corner and played the lute…just like always."
His hands came up around her shoulders.
"It was an unfair test and I'm sorry, but it wouldn't be like that right from the start. You'll ease into it and I'll be there to help."
"Like you were today?"
"I truly didn't intend to stay away so long, but had I been there and had I cleared it with you first, wouldn't you have dismissed the notion out of hand?"
"Yes, and why shouldn't I?"
"Because I need you to explore all the options, to realise what a completed family is."
"Does not wanting elflings make me in some way abnormal or in need of correction? Is it really so hideous a notion to believe that our family is already complete? We're not Men, we don't need elflings to carry on our name. I believe I'm beginning to understand what Erestor means about Gondolin. It's gone; they're gone, all the old Houses. What is the point of emulating them anymore? We all need to move on."
"You would take old misery-guts' side over mine?"
"Don't call him that! And this isn't about taking sides, we…we just need to sit down and talk about this."
"Exactly. My love," he took her hand and squeezed it gently, "I don't want you to be unhappy, but we can't move on whilst this remains between us. All I ask is that you listen to me, as I will listen to you." He pulled her toward him and cradled her, much like he used to do in their first tentative days of courtship. "I persist in having this vision of a lively hearth." His voice was low and sultry. "Lively music." His hands began to caress her gently. "Lively family." As he nuzzled her neck in just the place she liked, she found herself relaxing against him. Closing her eyes, she turned her mind to their bond. It had been neglected recently. "Lively cats, even!" Aníra giggled. His fingers danced across her neckline, down her spine to her laces. "My love, I know that when you look down into the face of a smiling elfling, you will want that too."
Aníra froze. All too late, Glorfindel realised what he'd said. He began to stutter and clutch at her, but she wrenched herself away from him. Her angry progress was impeded by first a chair and then the corner of the dresser. They added to her mounting humiliation and desire to get away from everything. Even so, Glorfindel caught her up before she was far down the garden path.
"Aníra, please, I'm sorry…"
There was that word again. How it irritated her, the fact that he expected it to magic everything into its rightful place – including her.
"Don't do this. Come on, come home."
"No! You really have no idea, have you? You just storm in expecting everyone else to conform and kowtow. You're just as spoiled as you ever were!"
Her arrow evidently struck something.
"You bonded with me, you bonded with this." He held up her pendant. "Does its history and heritage mean nothing to you?"
Aníra didn't stop to think. She yanked at the delicate chain, breaking it in two. Glorfindel didn't follow her this time. She could imagine her proud, unbending mate standing alone, gazing forlornly at the jewel he set so much store by.
XXX
"Aníra? I thought you were dining at your cottage this evening?"
Erestor's voice both ashamed and soothed her. Shame because she didn't wish to be seen as she was, all scratched and miserable; soothed because she knew she could rely absolutely on Erestor's self-control and common sense. Even so, Aníra didn't trust herself to speak; he took her hand.
"Come. Let's go somewhere a little more comfortable."
He led her to her and Glorfindel's chamber, but left her almost immediately. When he returned, he was accompanied by the tell-tale chink of a tea-tray. Only when they were partway through their second cups did Erestor comment quietly:
"You look in need of a friend."
"A new mate wouldn't go amiss."
Erestor had a very particular way of 'huffing' through his nostrils when he was exasperated, often it was the only indication he gave of such. He made this noise now.
"What's he done?"
Once Aníra started, she couldn't stop. She poured out everything – what had happened, what she felt, all of it in a tumble of broken sentences. How had she managed to keep it all inside? Had Glorfindel been able to sense it, or had he wilfully ignored it? Eventually, the flood eased.
"What do I do, Erestor? He wants the one thing I cannot give him, and he wants it more than anything."
"Aníra, I'm no expert."
"But you're here, and you're listening. Do you want elflings?"
"That was never an option for me."
"No, I suppose not. I do feel better, though. Maybe that's all I needed." She felt for his hand and squeezed it. "Thank you. Don't worry about us, Erestor. Glorfindel and I will figure this out – we have to. Just…stay with me a while?"
They ended up talking late into the night until Aníra fell asleep against her friend's side. When she awakened in the morning, Erestor was gone, but he had left a coverlet gently tucked around her.
Aníra sat up slowly. Without Glorfindel and her normal routine, she felt adrift. She didn't have her staff to help guide her, but if it was early enough, she could carefully retrace her route homeward. Edging out into the corridor, Aníra began her journey only to be waylaid by Celebrían coming the other way. She was carrying at least one of her sons; the petulant screams made concentration difficult.
"Oh, Aníra! You don't know where Elrond is, do you?"
"No, sorry."
"That wretched ellon! He promised he'd be only a few moments. Elrohir is already fussing for yet another feed and I expect you can smell what Elladan's done." Aníra had indeed caught that 'special' odour. "Would you be a dear and hold Elrohir whilst I sort Elladan out? I'll be as quick as I can."
Aníra considered for a moment. Celebrían was a friend and Elrohir was a lot smaller than Nostariel. They'd only have to sit and wait.
"Very well."
"Thank you! Thank you! We were just in the playroom." Celebrían led Aníra to the door. "And here he is…I won't be long – promise. Come on, pickle, Nana needs to freshen you up."
Aníra cradled the surprisingly hefty elfling as carefully as she could – if only he would pipe down a little but being placed in a stranger's arms seemed to have really riled him. She stepped into the so-called 'playroom' – it had been a Drawing Room in a previous life, she and Glorfindel had visited it many times. They would be safe enough.
Or so she thought.
The strident cries were making it had to concentrate. Aníra, finding herself by the table, suddenly felt her foot catch within an upturned bit of rug. She fell forward with a jolt and only just managed to put out a hand to stop herself. There was the sound of tinkling glass as Elrond's delicate goblets shattered under her full body-weight. Elrohir redoubled his efforts and screamed in indignation. Aníra's head was spinning and she was rigid with shock.
The door banged against the wall, and then Elrond's authoritative voice rose above his son's cries:
"I have him, Aníra, you can let go."
But Aníra couldn't. It took a second pair of long-fingered hands to help disentangle her. Pain sliced through her left palm.
"You need to go to the Healing Wing." It was Erestor. "Come on, I'll take you."
He stayed at Aníra's side all the while a Healer was carefully searching her wounds for glass sherds. Bootsteps pounded up the outer corridor and the sound of a second door bouncing off its hinges disrupted the peaceful atmosphere.
"Aníra! Aníra, are you alright? What on Arda happened?"
While Aníra sat limply on the bed, Erestor rose to his feet.
"I would like a word with you, Glorfindel, in private."
"Can't it wait, Erestor?" He sounded exasperated.
"No, it cannot. Excuse us please, Aníra."
When Glorfindel returned, it was without their friend. He sat beside her and slipped his hand into her free one. He was oddly quiet.
"What did Erestor say?" Aníra asked.
"I'll tell you later," replied her husband, now sounding rather dazed.
XXX
They found a bench in one of the courtyard gardens.
"Has…has Erestor ever mentioned an elleth by the name of Morvain to you?"
Glorfindel hadn't sounded so non-plussed in many a long year. Aníra shook her head.
"No, he hasn't. Why?"
"It…it appears they were very much in love – in Gondolin."
"What?" said Aníra incredulously.
"She survived the Fall, but not…not the Kinslaying at Sirion." He paused as the painful thought of that event washed over them. "Erestor was so ashamed of his failure to protect her that he threw down his weapons, vowing to never take them up again."
"I can't believe-"
Yes…actually, Aníra could believe it. In the hard, cold reality of hindsight, even she could see what had been staring them both in the face.
"Does Elrond know, do you think?"
"I don't think anyone does, not fully. All they see is this stern, austere figure, who…oh, Aníra!" he gasped. "I'm such a fool!"
"What do you mean?"
"I've heard Guards talking and…laughing behind his back, and I never saw fit to punish them. Aníra, I agreed with them."
"You weren't to know."
"But he's my oldest friend. After all the care and consideration he's shown us, he deserved far better." He sighed sadly. "We don't have to have an elfling if you don't want to. You were right, I was so focussed on the idea of an heir that I didn't stop to think what actually having an elfling would mean for us, or for you. So long as you're whole, happy, and in my arms, that's enough for me." He took up her bandaged hand and kissed it tenderly. "I love you very much, Aníra. I made a vow to you once to never give you cause to regret your choice, but I have fallen far of the mark recently. I promise to be better in future… so say I, Lord Glorfindel of the Golden Flower."
He sounded so serious, so unlike her husband, that it was endearing. Aníra's heart fluttered. She leaned forward and kissed him.
"I love you, too."
Their bond shimmered with renewed strength and longing. Aníra was pulled gently to her feet.
"Come," said Glorfindel huskily. "I intend to take you home and pamper you."
They started walking home, back into the House and along the corridor where the higher-ranking Elves of the Valley slept.
"Life's like a set of scales really, isn't it?" reflected Aníra. "Sometimes the good outweighs the bad, sometimes the bad the good. All we can do is help them balance out as much as possible."
"I think we manage that pretty well here," said Glorfindel as he possessively tucked Aníra's shoulders under his arm.
For answer, she simply smiled benignly, and they continued homeward in silence.
Glorfindel made no obvious outward sign that he had heard, but Aníra could have sworn she caught the sounds of muffled sobbing coming from behind one of the doors.
Most of the time anyway.
TBC