Chapter 32: Reunion (Whole Family)
IMPORTANT: From here on out, the two separate story lines converge. If you have been reading only one story line, here is where you begin reading every chapter, not every other.
(~***~)
When Legolas, Lossrilleth, and Thranduil finally made it to shore, their small ship anchored in a concealed corner of Ghost Bay, they were greeted by an enormous, ancient tortoise that did not appear surprised to see them. The tortoise said something to them in the Eastern language, which they could not understand.
Finally, the tortoise said simply, "Angharad," and laboriously turned itself until it pointed towards the beginning of a path through the wood. The demons of the forests had been passing the word along from one of the old ones, the green snake, for many months. When the pale tree spirit people were to arrive, they were to be pointed in the direction of Temple Mountain, using the name she had provided. Xiaoqing was both feared and respected. It cost them nothing. So they did it.
The elves were triumphant. They elves found themselves traveling silently through a vast and unfamiliar forest, where the birds and beasts and even the trees directed them Northwest through the wilderness, whispering to them in a language they could not decipher. Their daughter's name was the only word they knew.
Finally they arrived at the foot of a tall mountain, with a steep path winding up its sides. As they climbed, the air grew chill around them. They forged through a treacherous pass filled with ice-covered stones under moonlight one night, for they could feel a storm brewing at their backs, and they feared that snow would clog the path if they waited.
Thranduil looked back over his shoulder just as they left the pass, the back of his neck prickling. In the cold white light, the snake woman stood just past the forest's edge, looking almost like a statue herself. Thranduil turned and bowed in her direction. They owed her an enormous debt. She rose up and he could see she had coils where her legs should have been. She put her palms together and returned his bow, a slightly feral smile spread beneath her curious eyes, then turned and slunk back into the wood.
Late the next day, after hours of following stone steps up through swirling snowflakes that fell faster and faster, the elves arrived at a set of buildings that could be none other than the famed sanctuary of Temple Mountain. The steep-stepped buildings, capped with sweeping green roofs, were silent but for the occasional whistle of wind. She was so close. They could feel her.
The elves climbed another set of stairs and finally saw a person. A bald man in orange robes was sitting cross-legged in front of a doorway. He did not look surprised to see them. When they emerged out of the storm he stood and bowed to them, then gestured that they should follow him.
Lossrilleth reached for Legolas's hand. They held each other tightly as they wound through the maze of old buildings. The monk guided them into a building and up a set of stairs. He gestured to them that they should be quiet, then led them out onto a covered walkway looking down over a large courtyard.
Beneath them, two dozen children in grey uniforms were moving in coordination, shifting from stance to stance as another bald man stood before them and called out instructions. In the midst of the little heads with their stubble of black hair moved one twisted knot of pale gold, moving in unison with the group.
Lossrilleth covered her mouth as she let out an involuntary sob. Legolas stood behind her and folded his arms around her, twining his fingers between his wife's as he looked down at Angharad with wet eyes. It had been more than two years since that fateful day in Valinor. At long last, their daughter was before them again. Two years was nothing to an elf in most circumstances. But in this case it had felt like an eternity.
The monk gestured that they should wait here and watch. Lossrilleth wished she could fly down the stairs and interrupt this practice session without any regard for propriety. But these monks had housed and fed her daughter, and kept her safe. She could not disregard their customs when she owed them such a debt.
In less than an hour, the monk gave a final call and the children stood at attention while he gave them instructions. Angharad peeked up at her parents. She had known they were there for some time. She could feel them the minute they'd arrived, but she had kept her spirit steady instead of flying to them immediately. She didn't want to cry in front of her training group. Breathe in, breathe out. Feel the body moving through the sequences.
But once they were standing still, she couldn't help but look. She had to squeeze her eyes shut as soon as she did. It made her heart flip in her chest to see them standing there, looking down at her. With her grandfather, she noted with surprise. She had had no idea he would be with them.
The trainer told everyone else they were dismissed. He looked up at the eerie parents of his strange student and bowed to them. He led Angharad out of the courtyard. The monk with the older elves led them into a plain, comfortable room. The dwarf child was already waiting there, looking unhappy.
Angharad's trainer was speaking with her when she entered the room.
"They want to talk to you later," she said to her parents, looking at the ground so she wouldn't weep in front of her teacher. "They asked if they can come back in an hour or two."
"Of course," Legolas replied. "Please give them our thanks and tell them we will speak with them gladly whenever they wish."
Lossrilleth was willing herself to stand still for as long as this painfully formal moment dragged out.
Angharad turned and said something to the monk and then both men left the room, closing the doors quietly behind them.
Lossrilleth dropped to her knees and reached for her daughter. Angharad practically leaped across the room into those outstretched arms. She held a hand out to Legolas, asking him silently to join them in this joyful tangle of limbs while their reunited fёar leaped in gladness to be together again. Like he would ever say no to that.
Thranduil stood back and watched this reunion with bittersweet tears threatening his eyes. The old king could not help but also notice the tiny figure to his right, hunched in a chair. He looked at the dwarf, ready to dislike the boy on principle. He surprised himself. All he could see was a child in pain.
While Angharad and her parents took some time to revel in being together, Thranduil took the few steps left to close the gap between himself and the dwarf. He knelt down on one knee and put a tentative hand on the youngster's shoulder.
Ginnar stiffened, unsure of what to think of this massive elf-man touching him. Who was this? Her grandfather? Ginnar felt a wicked jealousy seething in his heart over this reunion of Angharad's. He wanted to see his parents, too.
"Are you well, friend of my granddaughter?" Thranduil asked, feeling a bit forced.
Ginnar nodded. So it was her grandfather, the former king. She'd gone on and on about this elf. He didn't want to look like a weakling in front of such a person. He straightened up in his seat and tried to make a serious face.
"Durin's people are tough. It will take worse than we have faced before I am beaten," Ginnar proclaimed.
Thranduil could not help but find this posturing endearing. The boy could not be taller than his knee and yet he was attempting to swagger with all the majesty of Thorin Oakenshield. He wondered if it might work to treat him just as he would treat Angharad. What she usually wanted most from her grandfather was to be noticed for her accomplishments.
"I have never known a dwarf who was not hardy, that is true. We saw your battle. I do not believe I have ever met such a young person of any race who is quite so canny in a fight as you were," Thranduil tried.
The boy perked up. "Truly?" he said before gathering himself up again and frowning.
"Truly," Thranduil said, feeling relieved. This appeared to be the right approach. "I will be interested to hear about this Eastern military history you studied if the chance arises."
Ginnar nodded at the famous grandfather, eager to show off his knowledge. But then his anxiety broke through. They should have a lot of time to talk about such things if they were going to journey together. Surely the chance would arise?
"Angharad promised you would help me get home to Aglarond. You will, right?" the boy asked in a rush. He hated the pleading sound in his own voice.
"Of course we will," Lossrilleth called from across the room. She had been paying attention to their conversation for the last minute, feeling tickled to see Thranduil tending to the little dwarf, however awkwardly.
Thranduil nodded gravely, echoing her sentiment. "If Angharad has promised we will do so, then her oath is also ours. We are under constraints to return to Valinor without delay now. But if we cannot deliver you to the doors of Aglarond ourselves, we will arrange for someone trustworthy to bring you home. We made some friends while we searched Southern Gondor for her, we will be able to find such a person."
"I would not allow the kin of one of my dearest friends to stay lost to his people while I take my own daughter home to safety," Legolas added seriously.
Ginnar was very interested to look at this elf. "You are Legolas? You do not look so much like your portrait," he commented, ever direct.
Legolas laughed. "That I am. That ill-conceived project still hangs in the Glittering Caves? I shall have to tell you the story of how it was made," he told Ginnar warmly.
Lossrilleth thought the boy was looking a bit less wounded than he had when they walked in. Surely they could be forgiven for attending to their own daughter straightaway. Still.
"Will you share your mother with your friend, my darling?" she asked Angharad quietly. "All this talk will be good for his worries, but he will need more."
Angharad nodded happily. It would be a good thing for Lossrilleth to help Ginnar. Angharad was grateful, for once, for her mother's strange past. Today it would be useful.
The girl untangled her hand from her mother's neck and moved it so she had both arms around her father. She wasn't ready to let go yet. Legolas had no problem with this whatsoever. If his little girl wanted to be held after all she'd been through, he would do so for as long as she wished. If she had developed a taste for such things for a thousand years, Legolas would accustom himself to embraces and provide them indefinitely.
Lossrilleth walked over to Ginnar and knelt in front of his seat, so she could look him in the eyes.
"You have been a very great friend to my daughter, she has been telling us. I see you over here looking glum while she takes some comfort after such a harrowing journey. I imagine if our places were reversed, your mother would not allow Angharad to sit alone in a corner in the Glittering Caves, hmm?" she plied the boy.
Ginnar shook his head, refusing to meet the eyes of this mother standing before him. His mam would sweep Angharad into a crushing hug and start stuffing her with food, squawking about how skinny the girl was. Still.
"Dwarfs are strong. We do not need tender treatment from elf ladies," he grumbled unconvincingly.
"I am certain that is true. And yet I imagine that dwarfs give the mightiest embraces in all the world. I am curious indeed to see it for myself," she said. "Will you show me?" she asked, giving the boy an excuse to take some comfort from her.
Ginnar wanted what she offered enough to give up his fight. He leaned forward and squeezed Lossrilleth with all the might in his little body. She squeezed him back with surprising strength rippling from her thin shoulders.
"Aulё have mercy, I shall be crushed!" Lossrilleth jested loudly.
Ginnar released her and grinned. This elf lady was not like Angharad had been when they'd first met, or like the somber elf-men before him now. It had taken ages for Angharad to try cracking a joke like that.
"We shall be together for some time. You will have to show me how to do that, it seems a good skill," Lossrilleth said to the young dwarf with mock seriousness. If they were going to be fostering a mortal child, she wanted him to know he could come to her for such needs.
Ginnar laughed. "You did not do so badly for a first try," he declared, playing along happily. "Six out of ten points!"
"Six out of ten! Disgraceful!" she cried, pretending to be offended. "I shall have to do better than that. I demand another chance immediately."
Ginnar cackled and let her hug him again. He was absolutely ready to befriend Angharad's mother now. He found he was relieved that she would be with them on the next leg of this journey. It would be safer, traveling with the elves, but he hadn't been looking forward to it. It had sounded terribly dull.
Angharad giggled. "I thought they would get along," she whispered to Legolas, who smiled back at her.
"I am not surprised either," he replied conspiratorially. "I have always thought your mother would have been fast friends with Gimli, had they met."
"Now," said Lossrilleth. "Are we going to hear a proper account of your journeys? You seem to have accomplished a great deal for two young people. We must hear everything."
But they did not get the chance just then, for a monk had arrived. He couldn't help but smile at the happy faces he found on his return to the room, which had felt tender and tense when he left. The child Anhe and her friend had arrived in tatters. It was a blessed day indeed, that they were reunited with their own people.
"Anhe, Brother Fahai would like to speak with your family. You will have to translate for us," the monk told her softly.
Angharad turned to her family and explained the request.
"Where will Ginnar go?" Lossrilleth asked. He was her baby now, too, until she delivered him into his own mother's arms, as far as she was this idea that they wouldn't walk him right up to the doors of Aglarond. She would appeal to Eru themselves again if she had to.
"Oh, I am alright," the young dwarf assured her. "I will go back and tell the restoration master what has happened. I take the evening meal with him most days anyway." (It did his bruised little heart a world of good that Angharad's mother had asked after him in such a way, though.)
"Restoration master?" Lossrilleth said, curious. "You will tell us more about this later, yes?" she asked.
Ginnar grinned and nodded. Angharad's mother was his new favorite person. He was dying to show her all his good work. But not at this moment. He trundled off to speak to the artisan, feeling happier than he had in a long while.
The four elves followed the monk through more of the buildings, until they arrived in a dining room in which a small meal had been set out on a spinning plate. Brother Fahai was sitting at its head at a cushion placed on the ground. He gestured that his guests should join them.
"They sit on those floor cushions," Angharad explained a little apologetically. This was probably not going to be especially comfortable for Thranduil.
The elves settled themselves in the unfamiliar seats and looked curiously at the man across from them.
"I know your people eat little, but I wasn't sure if your family would need food after their long journey, Anhe. I hope this modest offering will suit them," Fahai offered. "Eat with your family tonight while we talk."
"He is offering you dinner," Angharad explained. "The Brothers do not eat after midday, but he thought you would be hungry after climbing the mountain."
Angharad took the chopsticks from her place setting and held them out for the older elves to see, showing them how they worked. Legolas and Thranduil observed her carefully, copying her grip.
"I am familiar," Lossrilleth told her daughter. She picked up the chopsticks without hesitation, to her family's surprise. She carefully began selecting some items from the bowls. She was looking forward to this meal. She hadn't had congee since she had literally been a different person.
"This all looks excellent. Have you told the Brother that we say thank you yet? It was kind of them to provide for us, especially when they are not eating themselves."
Lossrilleth showed Legolas and Thranduil again how to use the implements again while Angharad conveyed her thanks. The elf-men made their way through this meal gingerly. The chopsticks weren't too hard to figure out, but they found the food unfamiliar. Still, they would take what had been offered as a matter of politeness.
With Angharad translating, Brother Fahai began. She let him speak, then turned to her parents.
"He says welcome. He says normally they would not give reports on students when they are in the room, but they wish to tell you about what I am learning and there is no one else to translate. So they hope I will handle it with honor," Angharad told them uncomfortably.
He could tell she had translated everything when he saw her mother raise her eyebrows and turn to look at him appraisingly. The other two kept closer counsel. The girl had said her father and grandfather were fierce and accomplished warriors. Watching how still and straight they held themselves – how unflappable their (youthful!) faces – Fahai believed it. He continued.
The girl kept wrinkling her eyebrows, then smoothing them out again. Her ears were getting pink. "He says they decided to enroll me in their school for warrior monks studying their Tradition because they thought it might help me. It is very rare that they accept girls and they have never taught anyone who is not a human. So they have adjusted the program as they deemed best. He says – he says I have talent, but I had no self-discipline or emotional control when I arrived, but I have made a lot of progress. But I still need more practice with patience and humility. He hopes you will not be offended by their decisions."
Angharad could have guessed this was Fahai's assessment of her at the start, but it smarted to hear it said so plainly. And she did not like having to tell it to her parents – and Thranduil! She was tempted to sweeten it up a little, but she had a feeling they would be able to tell if she was fibbing this time. She could feel a threat of tears in her throat.
Lossrilleth could tell her daughter was struggling with this. There was a reason this sort of parent-teacher conference was not held with the child in the room. It was a bit harsh. She was beginning to wonder if she should've just interrupted and used the mind reading trick – even if it would have shocked this man they owed a great deal to out of his chair. Surely her girl had been through enough already.
Brother Fahai stopped and bowed to his audience.
"Angharad, please tell the Brother that we will speak as a family for a few moments before we reply," Lossrilleth said. Perhaps it was not kind to make him wait, but he was giving a full and very blunt assessment in front of her daughter, so he could take a little sweat himself as far as she was concerned.
"I am sorry we must rely on you to translate, sweetheart. Are you alright?" she asked first.
Angharad shrugged noncommittally. "I am not a baby," she said, picking at a loose thread on her tunic.
"Hmm, I am still not happy about him making you do that. Have you been unhappy with your treatment here in any way?" Lossrilleth asked Angharad seriously.
"No, nana, I wanted to study the Tradition. I begged them to let me. They did not always make it as fun as my first teacher did, but I think they did teach me better discipline," the girl admitted uncomfortably.
"How much are you training? Is it all fighting? Are the other students as young as you are?" Legolas asked her.
"I – we train in the fighting techniques two or three times every day, and we also have to study, uhm, ethics, writing, and history – some things like that? I am not the youngest at all, ada, counting by age, not by years. The youngest humans in this school are only five. I think in their years I might be, uhm…" Angharad had to think about that.
"Nine, I think," Lossrilleth commented. "Maybe ten now, actually. I must give you credit for how much you have grown up." She made sure her daughter caught the warm smile she sent her.
"Please do not be upset with them," Angharad begged. "This has been the best place I have been in Middle Earth."
"I want to watch this training," Thranduil said. "What does he mean when he says they have made adjustments for you?"
"I cannot do a few things, so I skip them," Angharad said. "Others were too easy, so they changed the tasks to make it harder."
"Give us an example," the old king said seriously. He had seen men beat soldiers in training to 'motivate' them. If they were hurting Angharad, they would feel his displeasure.
"Uhm, sometimes we have exercises that are for developing endurance. We have to hold a stance for a long time. The poses are supposed to be difficult. But the teacher caught me telling another student that it was boring, so now when we do that exercise I have to do mine while I balance a bowl of water on my head," Angharad explained sheepishly.
Lossrilleth forced herself not to smile or laugh. Thranduil and Legolas were also feeling amused but had no trouble keeping straight faces.
"Only one bowl of water?" Legolas teased her. "I should think that would still be easy for you."
Angharad looked down into her lap, feeling silly. "Actually, sometimes I have two in my hands, too," she admitted. "And they fill it really full."
"Fair enough, if you were bragging about it being boring," Lossrilleth told her. She didn't love the story about her daughter being disrespectful to the teachers helping her.
Thranduil was satisfied. It didn't sound like they were beating her or causing her harm in some way. A mouthy trainee should get some sort of consequence, it was only natural. They had correctly assessed that making her balance something would make things harder without being unsafe.
Fahai had been observing their exchange. The family did not seem outraged. They seemed to be interviewing their daughter. To be expected.
Finally Angharad turned to him and said, "They asked me to thank you for sharing your teaching with me. They aren't offended. But my father and grandfather do want to watch us train if they may."
"Will you continue to train until the snows melt and the passes open up, then? Your parents arrived only just in time. It will be two months before they can go down the mountain," Fahai asked her.
Angharad explained this as well. The elves knew they could go over the pass anyway if they needed to, but they would have Ginnar with them and it would be hard on him. If they were welcome here for a short time, they agreed they would stay and see what the children had been up to.
Lossrilleth insisted that Angharad tell Fahai that if there was something they could do to contribute, she would be happy to help. She could make herself useful in a kitchen or healing room or something if they needed it. Angharad was looking at her, aghast.
"Nana, you do not have to do chores like a servant or something," she protested. "I only do them because it is part of training."
"Like a servant? Everyone who lives here pitches in, correct? It is a cooperative community. They are allowing us to live here for two months. They have kept and taught you for a year. They have asked for no money, and we have little to offer them. I cannot speak for everyone, but I would be ashamed to sit here in halls that are not my own and expect and to be waited on and provided for while I do nothing. They do not eat meat, do they? I would volunteer him to hunt, but I think it might offend them," Lossrilleth said, pointing vaguely at Legolas. He was looking back at her thoughtfully.
It put the girl to shame. She had resisted doing chores for so long, honestly feeling they were a bit beneath her. Here her mother was, freshly arrived from a trying journey and ready to show up for kitchen duty the next morning. She had never really thought about class differences in Valinor. It occurred to her that her family actually was still given some deference for having been royal in Middle Earth.
"Do not offer to hunt. It would offend them," Angharad mumbled back.
"Well tell them we will both help, then, if we can," her father said. "I would not have thought of it, but I think your mother is right to offer."
Thranduil took in a deep breath but Angharad interrupted him. "I will not tell them that you will do chores, grandfather. I refuse. They make much of respecting elders here. I am telling him you are too honored in our family. I will do your share of work if I have to."
She moved on quickly and relayed their offers to Fahai, missing the tickled look on her mother's face as she gave the old king a sideways glance. Fahai smiled warmly and bowed to them.
"He thanks you. They have no requests for you now, but he will think on it," Angharad told them.
(~***~)
Ginnar stayed alone in the room he'd been sharing with Angharad, feeling awkward about interrupting the elf family's reunion. But he did find it kind of lonely. Would he not see Angharad much until they left? He missed her already.
But that first night, the privacy was welcome. The monks had respectfully offered the family the use of their bathing house before they slept. As the hot spring-fed bathing pools were strictly separated by gender Angharad went with her mother.
"I am looking forward to this bath, are you?" Lossrilleth asked her daughter, trying to gauge her mood as she got ready to go in the water. "These Brothers are lucky to have such a pleasant bathing system up here in the mountains."
Angharad shrugged. She was looking at the floor and rolling a stone around with her foot.
"Should we go in, dear?" Lossrilleth prompted her again, holding out a hand. She knew this look, but she hadn't seen it for quite a few years now. When the girl had been a toddler, it had meant a collapse into tears was around the corner.
Angharad finally waded into the pool with her mother, finding seats together on the rock shelf they used as a bench. She still seemed distant to Lossrilleth.
"Are you upset about what the Brother said about you? I wish I had stopped him from saying it all to your face. We could have found some other way to speak," she said apologetically to her daughter.
"He was right though," Angharad said very quietly before she took in a shaky breath. "If I had had any self-control we would still be safe in Valinor. You told me a thousand times to be more careful and I never listened to you. This is all my fault." Angharad sniffed loudly and gulped.
Lossrilleth turned towards her daughter and took the girl's face in both of her hands.
"Look at me," she said, waiting until Angharad finally looked her in the eyes. "This is not your fault. This was a terrible accident. Many things had to go wrong all at once for this to happen."
"But I climbed into that boat without even looking at anything. Just because there was something shiny at the bottom," Angharad argued. Her eyes were getting red and wet.
"That was so stupid," she told her mother. Hot tears started running down her face. "You should punish me. I should be in trouble."
"Punishment is usually to teach a lesson. I believe the world has already taught you what you need to learn from this, yes? And then some," Lossrilleth said. "You know to be more careful now, do you not?"
Angharad nodded through her tears. Lossrilleth pulled her daughter into her arms. Angharad sobbed into her mother's shoulder.
"I will let you in on a little secret," Lossrilleth told her daughter, rubbing her back in circles. "This Middle Earth has taught you and I some of the same lessons. I frightened your poor ada terribly a few times. So how about we both resolve to be more careful, and we can consider that lesson learned?"
Angharad had jerked her head up when Lossrilleth had mentioned her father. She was feeling small and scared, like she was years younger than she actually was.
"Where is he? Where is ada?" she asked, sounding frightened.
"He is right through that wall," Lossrilleth said, a little perplexed. "You saw him going into the men's bathing chambers, right?"
"What if he left?" Angharad said, sounding panicky. "When is he coming back?"
"He did not leave. He can probably hear us through that wall," She tried soothing her increasingly hysterical child.
"Legolas," she called out. "Can you hear us?"
She was pretty sure he would be able to. There wasn't much between the two pools: just a single layer of wooden boards.
"Yes. We can hear you. I have not gone anywhere, Angharad," his voice said through the thin barrier.
"Can we sit closer to the wall?" the girl asked her mother.
"I have an even better idea," Lossrilleth said. She raised her voice a little to make sure everyone caught it. "How about we clean up nice and fast, and then we can go back to our room where we can all see each other?"
Outside the bath house a few minutes later, Angharad was clutching Lossrilleth, her tears barely contained until she saw Legolas. She ran over to him and clung to him instead, crying again.
"Pick her up" Lossrilleth mouthed the words to Legolas. He carried her all the way back to their room, their daughter draped over him like a wet rag. Lossrilleth followed closely behind her she could be seen easily.
When they arrived, Lossrilleth pushed two of the floor mattresses that had been set up for them together.
"We are sleeping all together, the three of us, like we used to when she was little and too scared to sleep through a thunderstorm," the young mother declared. Toddler-age meltdown, toddler-age solution, she was thinking. Age regression and separation anxiety: completely foreseeable responses to a trauma.
Nobody was going to argue with her if she thought she knew how to help. Both ellyn had had some moments like this in the past when Legolas was small and floundered to reach each other with uneven success.
It took the girl some time to settle, but eventually, she stopped sniffling and hiccuping and slept deeply, one of her mother's arms resting over her.
When Angharad was dozing between them, Legolas reached over her to touch Lossrilleth's arm and catch her eye. She had never seen an expression before laced with such sorrow and such gratitude at the same time. Lossilleth smiled back at him, letting her relief, sorrow, and affection wash over him.
Given the circumstances, it was good as they could ask for. They'd do their best to help her recover. He did not care that the girl had absentmindedly wrapped a lock of his hair around a finger while her mind wandered, pulling at it uncomfortably, or that one of her knees was digging into his ribs.
He hoped this hurt coming to a head would not dampen her love of this fighting art she'd developed. It had seen her through much. Perhaps it still could.
(~***~)
Author's Note:
The end is near! But likely slightly farther than I thought. I think I'm going to go over the 130k word estimate I gave, my apologies. There is a real end planned. I have a defined number of threads to tie up to get there without giving short shrift to any of the important arcs that I've started. I will see if I can constrain myself to do it in 4 more chapters of approximate lengths similar to what you have been reading.
