𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖑𝖊𝖗

Know your own happiness.

— Jane Austen, Sense & Sensibility

"You coulda been queen ! And you said no? Are you out of your mind, Minnow?" screeched Lucie. She was staring at me across the table, her mouth gaping in horror at me.

"We had a feast in your honour in the hall," lamented Sylvie. "I made a toast."

"Valar above," I muttered, sipping my tea. I hadn't expected that Cardolan - and it seemed much of Arnor - had assumed that King Anarion's marriage to a lady of Tolfalas meant me. It seemed that the names of women were often left out of the news. How Numenorean. Perhaps he had done it on purpose, I thought malevolently, as to use my popularity (waning as it was) as currency would be straight out of his playbook.

However, there was a silver lining. It would anger Lind no end, I realised, amused. It wasn't any of my business anymore and I was thankful for it. I would not worry for her. She had achieved what she always wanted: she was queen.

I had lingered in the Grey Havens for a few weeks, relishing the time alone to think through everything that had happened, and how I felt about it, and swim in the sea and relax for what felt like the first time in years. No one wanted anything from me. No one knew where I was. I had only the sea for company, and it felt glorious. I hoped the water would wash away my sorrows. It hadn't, but I still felt refreshed. I resorted back to my lobster catching ways, and even smoked some fish to take back to Cardolan as a souvenir from my time by the ocean.

But my arrival in Cardolan was met with much confusion.

"My liege!" shouted Lucie, and threw herself on the ground. Jumping off Neya and pulling her up, she looked terrified of me, and then demanded to know where my ladies-in-waiting were, and the king for that matter, and why I was on a horse and not a carriage, and most importantly, where was my crown? It slowly dawned on her that I was still just Minnow.

She was furious with me, which I found hilarious. Sylvie greeted me with a big hug.

"Not married?" she asked, looking me over.

"Not to Anarion," I replied. She gave me a sad smile.

To my surprise, and great happiness, Cardolan has grown in size since I was last there - in fact, it had tripled. Sylvie told me that settlers arrived everyday and while there were a few confrontations, and even fights, mostly everyone was rubbing along quite nicely. Sylvie was trying to take a census, but she thought there could be 5,000 people in Cardolan now.

"Ai! Almost a city," I said, amazed at how our once decrepit village was now flourishing.

A few days later, Lucie showed me the outhouse that her husband had built for the Athelas paste production. She had gained a few more helpers now, and was paying everyone a wage, and was even starting to trade with Minas Tirith and even Osgiliath now that we had learnt about the importance of contracts. It took quite a long time for her to understand I didn't want to take over the enterprise, but I did ask her to put some of the profits into a school. She readily agreed, but kept trying to give me bags of coins.

She asked me a hundred questions about what the fortress in Arnor was like, and I answered them all without talking about Anarion once, which I thought was rather good going. But I felt a little lonely. I wish I had someone I could talk to as plainly as I could with Elrond or Erestor - or even Elwen I thought.

"Let's go for a walk, Minnow," said Sylvie, a few days later.

Chickens were running across the street, and someone (I had no idea who) was building a fountain in the road, which someone had levelled - it was now almost flat. I marvelled - when I first came to Cardolan the road was so uneven and muddy I had been amazed. The tavern was bustling and not as dirty as it could be. Sylvie had been busy, I thought. She pointed out the market stalls selling root vegetables, flour, leather, and of course, Athelas paste.

Cardolan was well on its way to becoming sustainable, I thought, with satisfaction. It would soon be independent. They would be in a better position to bargain for paying taxes. To survive harsh winters. To prosper.

It was a huge relief.

"I did want to speak to you about Cardolan's future, Sylvie. I think Cardolan should belong to the people," I said, carefully.

"Doesn't it already?" she asked, side-eyeing me. I tried not to grin at her.

"In all but name. Let us make it official. We can hold a vote, to be held yearly, for a mayor. Everyone - women included - over the age of sixteen can cast a vote," I said.

"A mayor?" she said, thinking it over. "Would the king approve?"

"Do we care for his approval?" I said as lightly as I could. "Best to ask for forgiveness rather than permission."

Sylvie raised her eyebrow at me. It was a fairly treasonous statement, but the way I was feeling about Anarion was violent. I told her the king would be busy in Gondor - his brother's death, his new wife, being back in Minas Tirith… he would never hear of what happened in Cardolan. And if he did, he would be unlikely to care.

"I'd like you to stand for mayor," I said, firmly. "I would nominate you."

"And you won't stand?" she said. "We would vote for you, you know."

I sighed, almost wistfully. Cardolan had been a refuge when I had needed it the most, and I wasn't likely to forget the frosty months crying in the dusty old house, or the long dark winter in the hall with the villagers. But I didn't belong here.

"You don't need me anymore. I've paid off our taxes, for a few years at least, and… this isn't my home, not really. I want to give it back to you," I said.

Sylvie nodded. "That means you're leaving again."

"There's a friend I want to check up on," I said, rather mysteriously. I did want to see how Elrond was - why had he left Lindon? I hoped that it had nothing to do with my departure - but I couldn't help but think it must have something to do with Celebrian. Either he was preparing a marital home, or he had given up hope altogether. I wasn't sure which was the best outcome.

I announced an election and anyone could put their name forward to be voted in. Almost twenty men did, and I badgered Sylvie into putting herself forward, too. She looked nervous, but determined. I was sure that she would win. We had three days until the election, plenty of time for people to ponder it over, and not enough time (I hoped) for there to be many fights about it.

I asked the twenty-one prospective mayors to stand up in the hall and give us a talk about their plans for Cardolan. The hall was packed - there was almost a thousand people in it, and it stunk of sweat and beef. Not all the villagers were men, to my satisfaction; many of the faces were serious looking women. After some rambling and overconfident nonsense from the twenty would-be mayors, Sylvie stood up.

"Sylvie? The old woman? How's a woman going to run a town?" grumbled one man.

"You're a sharp one," I drawled, looking the stranger up and down.

"That's Lady Minnow, that is," whispered his friend.

"Begging your pardon, miss," the man said, hastily, taking off his hat and looking stricken. I smiled in what I hope was a beneficent manner, but Lucie later told me it was quite threatening.

Sylvie cast her eye over everyone and nodded at me. She spoke in her characteristic low voice, about how Cardolan had fallen into disrepair due to neglect, and how close the village had come to starving or freezing to death. She credited me for galvanising everyone into action and waking them from their stupor, and how working together was the road that we had taken to survive the winter. She said I had given them a prosperous trade, and paid off the backlog of taxes, and now it was up to them how they proceeded. She spoke of a bright future ahead for them all, and I was not the only one who wiped a few tears away.

"How far we've come, eh, Minnow?" said Lucie's husband Malachy, handing me a handkerchief, and putting his arms around my shoulder.

"She'll beat them all," predicted Lucie, who stood on the other side of me.

The next day, I wrote an X next to Sylvie's name on a ballot, and proudly inserted it through the slot into a box for the first ever mayoral vote in Cardolan.

I counted the votes myself, then asked the tavern owner - who was very popular among the men of the town - to check. He smiled at me as he counted the votes. Sylvie had won by a landslide. While I was in no doubt that she was the most competent pair of hands, I also knew that men tended to put stock solely in other men. But Sylvie was the only elder of the town, and that counted for a lot. I was relieved.

As I announced the winner, a cheer went up - and the tavern owner rolled out some barrels, and we broke out the beer.

A few days later, as I signed over the hall and town to the people of Cardolan, Sylvie embraced me and told me of her plans.

"I am thinking of re-naming the town," she said, innocently.

"To celebrate your independence?" I smiled.

"Minnowtown. Or Minnoton. What do you think?" she asked.

I turned to look at her.

"Wha-at? What?" I asked, my voice embarrassingly wobbly. Sylvie smiled widely at me.

"Let it out," she advised, as I cried on her shoulder. I wrapped my arms around her.

"I'd be honoured, obviously, but there is no need!"

"Isn't there?" asked Sylvie. "Well, we'll put it to a vote."

Sylvie had a taste for voting, it seemed.

As cheering broke out in the hall the next week, I leant against the wall and watched everyone. I wasn't sure that everyone knew exactly why they were renaming the town - ostensibly after me. It seemed now to be a gesture of self-control, self-reliance, and retaking their identity.

Not that I minded.

"MINNTOWN! MINNTOWN! MINNTOWN!" they chanted, clapping each other on the back, and the women embracing each other. Children ran threw the hall, chasing each other with screams of delight. A fiddle appeared, and suddenly there was a dance.

The tavern owner and three of his helpers rolled out barrels. Beer, ale and mead was poured. I took a glass and sipped. Lucie and Malachy were twirling round and round, laughing with each other, and Sylvie was talking with a group of women. I watched the revelry, feeling a little lonely.

Minntown, I pondered. They didn't need me anymore, and that was a little sad, but I was glad because I had fulfilled my responsibility to them. If I returned, it would be as a guest.

I hadn't planned on lingering in Cardolan - or Minntown as it was now called - long, but I had been here over a month. And it was time to leave.

The next morning, bright and early, I packed my bags and said goodbye to the busy Sylvie and Lucie, who were sorry to see me go but would soon be drawn back into the cares of running Minntown and the Athelas paste empire - as it should be, I thought.

"On the road again, Neya!" I said, patting my brave horse. She snorted, as I mounted her.

I was less scared to travel on the open road than I was before, but I was not blind to the dangers. I didn't light any fires, and the map I had painstakingly copied out was my only guide. I didn't meet anyone; elves, humans, or even dwarves - and thankfully no orcs. Once, I saw a stag in a meadow, and for a few minutes on end we watched each other, until he turned and dashed away. Otherwise, I splashed about in streams and took to talking to my horse and humming to myself.

Thankfully, it took less than six weeks to find what I was looking for.

This had to be Elrond's valley, I thought. I was now in Eriador, in a gorge by the footlands of the Misty Mountains, that I would have passed by without realising if Elrond had not spoken of it, many months before. I took Neya through the path which zig-zagged through oaks and beech. At either side of me, mountains stood tall, and a river ran through it. This was a hidden spot, and I could see why Elrond was fond of it.

"Who goes there?" called a voice from above me. I smiled.

"I'm looking for my friend Elrond!" I called back in Sindarin. There was a noise and suddenly, a figure jumped down from the tree to my right. It was the half-Elf himself!

"Minnow," he breathed. "It cannot be!"

I threw myself at him. He laughed.

" Minnow! It really is you! " he said, holding me out and looking at me with a grin and then embracing me once more. "Come."

Elrond looked the most human I had ever seen him. Gone were the long healer robes, and instead he was wearing black trousers and a white shirt. And he had cut his long thick hair to rest above his shoulders. Without the weight to pull it down, his dark brown hair curled. He looked startlingly different. I hadn't realised that he depended so much on his hair and clothes to make him look Elvish; without them he looked almost human.

In fact, he looked a little like a pirate.

After a feast of lembas bread and cheese in a grassy meadow, he gave me a long look. It seemed like we both wanted answers.

"We have much to talk about," he said, solemnly. "Where have you been?"

Oh, to the Abyss and back, I thought. But that's not what I said.

"Where haven't I been?! Cardolan. Arnor. The Grey Havens. I was lost half the time too, so I don't know everywhere I've been. But I left Lindon for Cardolan, if that's what you mean," I said, glibly.

"Cardolan. Of course. We thought Arnor would be your destination. We searched for you, but the tracks were… erratic. We could not understand your course."

"I'd never been to Cardolan before and did not know the way," I explained. But I had been weeping the entire time. I probably rode round in circles without realising it a few times.

"I would have helped you if you had asked me," he told me.

I sighed.

"Would you? Gil-galad had ordered me to stay inside, and… well, everyone disappeared. I was alone," I said, only slightly bitter. Elrond watched me as I ripped grass apart with my hands. "How… was my leaving taken?"

There was a long pause.

"Not… well. Some of the men tried to usurp Gil-galad. There were endless meetings which ended in shouting matches. Your friends tried to convince him that five years locked in a house was too strict a punishment especially since you had committed no crime. Galadriel wanted you banished and she wields no small influence."

"Gah," I said, rolling onto my front.

"And of course, Galadriel pulled a sword on Glorfindel," said Elrond, almost idly.

"Wh-how? Why? " I asked, sitting up. Galadriel threatened Glorfindel?!

"It is worse than you know," said Elrond, grimly. "Elves are forbidden by the Valar to draw arms on each other. It is Taboo. The Kinslaying is a terrible wound on all our souls."

I couldn't believe that Galadriel had threatened Glorfindel. Was she mad? Well, yes, I told myself. She was mad.

"And so you left?" I asked.

"That is not the reason, but I cannot say I was not distressed."

"And what of Celebrian?" I asked, with trepidation.

"I have been sorely mistaken in her character," he said, so sadly that my heart broke a little for him. "She spoke of her part in dividing you and Glorfindel, and I felt wretched, for what you had endured, and for loving her so blindly."

"Not blindly… hopefully," I said, after a pause.

"We will compromise and say 'foolishly' then."

"If she told you," I mused, thinking, "then perhaps a change is come upon her." Celebrian had the potential to be less selfish, I knew that. Whether or not she would change was her choice.

"A change has come upon me, too. For five hundred years I thought of her, and only of her. She was bright in my mind's eye and while I was not blind to her faults, I ignored them," he said, wiping away a tear. "No more."

"What a mess," I said, helplessly.

"Indeed. Celebrian and Galadriel are to spend some time apart, and Gil-galad still reigns, but… things have changed, irrevocably, I fear."

He had not mentioned Glorfindel, I thought. I wasn't sure how to ask.

"So you have taken to living in this cave?" I asked, trying to rally. "It's a nice cave, but I think this is quite extreme."

Elrond laughed at me.

"I have plans for an entire city … but yes, I do live in a cave," he said with a smile. "I spent a lot of time in caves as a child, I find them comforting in a way… despite the dark memories. But I have plans. I wish to build a homely house."

"Do you need some help?"

"From a midwife and healer?"

"From a friend?" I asked.

Elrond reached over to me and squeezed my shoulder. "Always."

"Does it have a name? This homely house you want to build?" I asked.

"Imladris. Rivendell, in the common tongue."

Imladris, I said to myself. Yes, this could be home.

In the morning, we marked out the foundations of what was to be the main hall. He showed me the scrolls, some dating back decades, of his plans. This city was many years in the works, and he had been planning it for a long time. The drawings were exquisite.

For a while, that was all we did.

"I hope you know what you're doing because this makes no sense to me. To build a house, we have to dig into the ground?!" I said, sweaty one day. Elrond had procured shovels from his sleeve or Valar knows where, and I had been digging under the hot sun for hours.

"Do you trust me, Minnow?" he asked, equally sweaty besides me.

"With my life. But with construction? This is new ground," I said, wiping the sweat from my brow.

"No jokes, please," muttered Elrond. "I endured much from 'Stor," he muttered. Valar knew we all missed Erestor's sunny disposition.

But despite my doubts, even after a few weeks - and the digging had finished - I began to start daydreaming about what the homely house would look like when it was finished. No doubt it would take fifty years.

One day, when I was stretching my legs, I came across Elrond washing in the river, stripped to his waist. There was a sprinkling of dark hair on his chest; with his shorter hair at first glance he looked like a man. He splashed me.

"Do you think your islander ways could help us catch some fish in this river?" he asked. I grinned. That night, we ate fresh river fish around a fire outside Elrond's cave, and as I looked up at the stars, I almost felt at peace.

A few Elves passed through, but did not stay longer than a week. But they always seemed to have a useful skill that was required; whether some heavy lifting Elrond could not do on his own, someone with tools, or they brought timber or stone.

"How do they know?" I asked, confused. "They always arrive with exactly what we need1"

"Elves," said Elrond. I rolled my eyes.

They were not our only visitors. To my surprise, men from the north started to trickle into the valley. The Dunedain planned to stay longer; they built little cottages from flat stones on the other side of the river after a month of my arrival. Elrond told them they were welcome, and a few of the older ones embraced him.

"The north is a cold and barren land, and the taxes…" he told me later. "They have nothing left."

"Anarion," I said, angry. Him and his stupid taxes!

"But a Lord Arador is said to take over now that Anarion has gone to the South, and while he has much to sort out, they believe that he is honourable and strong enough to put things right," continued Elrond.

"I have met him," I mused. "A little stubborn, but perhaps a good thing. Elwen was in love with him."

"Elwen?" Elrond's eyebrow rose. "Hmmm, Elros' blood and the Dunedain line - perhaps…"

They were not particularly friendly towards me - in fact, they seemed rather confused - but I was patient. More and more gathered until there was around a hundred, and suddenly, the work on Elrond's homely house rapidly progressed. From a skeleton of wood and stone that I could not imagine turning into a house, I could now see the beginnings of a hall, of several floors, and different buildings.

Thankfully, I was no longer needed as Elrond's chief construction worker, and could resume my duties as a healer. The men had brought their wives, and a few children, and although they were hardy folk who were rarely ill, they still appreciated my help. They were rangers or hunters and used to being self-sufficient; but a healer was a luxury they had not had for a long time.

"It has been a long time since I have set a bone," Elrond said, as together we looked after a young boy under his mother's watchful eye. I had begun to teach them all the rudiments of healing, which they were all keen to learn, and Jem's mother watched me attentively.

"I have never seen an Elfling," I said, almost hesitantly, after we had finished.

Elrond sighed.

"For the simple reason that there are none. Elves do not have children in times of instability - our long lives mean heirs are not necessary," he explained.

"I didn't see any Dwarvlings either when I was in the forge-city, I suppose. But I see," I said.

"I have never seen a Dwarvling either. The Dwarves are a secretive race, and you are one of the few that they trust."

"Well I am very trustworthy," I laughed. Elrond laughed too, and one of the Dunedain, a slightly less grim one called Cormac asked me about dwarves, and listened attentively as I told him about Yagel and his daughter, and all my dealings with the dwarves.

The Dunedain soon began to include me in their conversations, hushed and low as they were. The children smiled at me, and we began to all eat together. I caught more and more fish, and a group of farmers began to plan a vegetable garden.

I taught them how to hunt for Athelas, and they taught me some songs. But most of my time was spent with Elrond, who sporadically taught me more about healing. His books lay in several trunks, and after an hour's lesson, we decided to enjoy the weather instead.

"This is near perfection," I said, as we lay on the grass next to the river . I was exhausted, and it was sunny.

"Near? I'm insulted," said Elrond, lazily.

"If we were close to the sea, then it would be perfect."

"I will grant you that, although I have never felt the Sea-longing of my kin," said Elrond. I looked up at the sky where clouds were slowly passing over us. I did miss the sea, it was true, but with a river, and a valley, and a good friend - and most importantly, a purpose - then I could be content.

"How did you know you wanted to be an Elf and not counted among the Men?" I asked.

"I'm not sure there was ever a moment or decision like with Erestor, I just always knew who I was," mused Elrond.

I had thought that I had known who I was. But now everything had changed: and my concept of myself along with it.

"I thought I was human and now I know I have a father who is… the lord of the sea, and well. It's too big for me to understand," I said.

Elrond turned his head to me. "Nothing really makes sense, does it? We look for logic, and it just… isn't there."

"I was hoping you'd say something more insightful about being from two cultures, or forging your own path," I grumbled. Elrond laughed at me.

"My father is a star, and my mother can fly like a bird. No, Minnow, these are not colourful metaphors to describe my parents, they truly are living poetry. Yet, I have few memories of them, though they loom large in our lore. When Feanor came for my mother's Silmaril, I never saw them again. But I was a twin, and we helped each other. Of course, Maglor was our father figure of sorts…"

"I've read about him," I ventured.

"A kind Elf in many ways, but deranged, driven mad by his actions. He's still here, on Arda… somewhere. I looked for him for a while, but he prefers solitude."

I sighed. "I didn't like my father," I confessed. "He seemed… selfish. And he is Valar. I don't understand it."

The Valar were supposed to be unknowable, ineffable - without flaws! They were not selfishly impregnating and dooming young women, I thought.

"Being alone for thousands of years does make one… singular. Ulmo is the one who turned my mother into a bird when she threw herself into the sea," murmured Elrond.

"Really? Cirdan said something similar about being… odd," I ventured.

"Hmmm. He would know," muttered Elrond.

"He has a beard," I said, yawning. It was so nice and warm.

"Yes, I believe that one day he simply decided he wanted a beard and so grew one…" Elrond yawned.

"Could you grow a beard?" I asked, sleepily. "If you trie?d"

"I will if you will, Minnow," he promised. I snorted and closed my eyes. I dozed off.

It was a few months later that I heard a horse before I saw it. We had a steady stream of visitors, but they came in groups and never single riders. Everyone had settled into a routine, and the men had started to work on the second floor of Elrond's house - and some Elves had shown up with a cart full of wine from Mirkwood that pleased my friend no end.

I walked towards the rider, worried.

"Erestor?!" I shouted, amazed.

He leapt off his horse with grace and skipped towards me, scooping me up into an embrace. I was beyond words so I simply clung to him, then let him throw himself on his uncle.

They spoke for a minute in Quenya, and Elrond closed his eyes and rested his head on Erestor's shoulder to my great surprise. He must be in more pain than I had realised.

I gave them some privacy, and went to help my friend Adaline with her laundry for a few hours before skipping back. Elrond had been showing Erestor his designs, and taking him around the house.

"And where is my bedroom, I ask you? I want a good view!" he laughed.

"Are you going to stay?" I asked, full of hope, but confused.

"Well, it's a poor Elvish settlement with only one Elf! And a half-Elf at at that. Two half-Elves is moderately better," he said, his hand on his hip, smiling at me.

"Moderately," repeated Elrond, who was then called over by the Dunedain who were discussing a walkway between two buildings and whether it needed one or two columns to support it.

I turned back to Erestor. He looked the same; handsome, irrepressible, carefree, and in his travelling clothes and cloak, rather dashing. I told him I didn't understand why he had left Lindon - left Gil-galad.

"We have not broken with each other. Elves live long lives, and we can endure some time apart," he said, stoically. I could tell he was deeply upset; Erestor's emotions were always close to the surface.

"I see," I said, although I did not.

"I found I could not be in Lindon anymore. Not after what had happened," he continued, his voice soft.

"I am sorry for my part in it," I told him.

"Oh Minnow. You endured much."

I took a big breath in and told myself to be brave.

"And what of Glorfindel? How… how is he?" I asked. I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the answer, but perhaps I needed to.

Erestor looked at me for a long time. Then he sighed.

"You broke his heart, Minnow. Surely you must understand that?"

I had, and I had broken it on purpose. I turned away and dried a treacherous tear. My own heart was broken but I found I could be content with it in two pieces; I could endure my own pain, but probably not his. But I had done the right thing, I was sure of it.

Elrond returned and leafed through his scrolls. We both watched him. I wonder what Erestor thought of the short hair and the mannish clothes - and perhaps the newfound confidence and assertion?

"In truth, I did not expect to find you here," Erestor said, thoughtfully.

"Minnow has been invaluable," said Elrond.

"Still. It does rather change things. I bring news," Erestor said. "Celeborn is to accompany Celebrian here for a visit. And I met Lord Arador on the journey here - he travels with his wife to meet Elrond and his people in Imladris."

If I had not spent the last six months in Elrond's company, I think I would have missed the fleeting look of absolute panic on his face. He still loved her - of course he did! And if Celebrian was visiting with her father - could it be to reconcile? And Lord Arador's wife had to be Elwen, didn't it?

I was so nervous to meet them again, I thought. Who knew what would happen? And I longed to see Elwen.

"You looked worried. You should be. Glorfindel accompanies them," Erestor told me. "They will be here tomorrow."

My loves! Thank you for reading - and if you commented, you are a star and I love you. Let me know what you think.