Chapter Eight

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SUMMARY: Vildan is sick with worry over his baby niece, misses his family and his horse, and tries not to think of a certain red-head from Dale.

Melui has a tiny breakthrough (will it last?) and Vildan discovers an interesting fact about Mistanâr, that adds a whole new perspective.

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"I don't want to be alone

And it's too hard for you to ride along

So wait for me

And I'll be back again

Let me know if you feel a little lost

A little too real

And I'll come back again

I'll come back again…"

Back Home Again, by flor

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Rivendell, September 2945 T.A.

Vildan's first few weeks at Lord Elrond's house were a struggle to adjust to a reality he had neither anticipated nor wanted. He did not resent becoming Melui's guardian, but how could he possibly be a parent to a child who was little more than a living, breathing ghost? Some days he was numb, hardly able to focus, and others he was irritable, wanting only to be left alone. A few times he snapped at Laniër—and felt terrible about it afterwards—but when she forgave him with that patient smile, it just made him want to scream and break something.

On those days, Vildan went to Lord Elrond and poured out his heart wanting answers when they both knew there was none. Bless Elrond for listening to his musings, his complaints, and even his rants, with grace and understanding.

A week after his arrival, Vildan showed up in his study with a hypothesis:

"Is it possible Melui is suffering from some sort of head injury? Lindir told me how she managed to get up into Estel's tree house, and we all know she is too small to use that ladder! Maybe she hit her head. What if—"

"I assure you," Elrond said smoothly, "once the child was located, your sister and her husband brought her straight to me and I examined her from head to toe. There was not a mark on her, nor did I find any sort of bruising inside her skull."

"But the effects of concussion or even bleeding on the brain do not always occur right away." Vildan pressed his hand on his right knee to keep his foot from bouncing. "Did you look again?"

"I did, three days later, and every day since she became afflicted."

"Of course, you have," His chest deflated. "I do not mean to doubt you, but…"

"Think nothing of it," Elrond dipped his chin. "I welcome any idea that might bring that child back to us."

888

October 2945 T.A.

Just after the rest of the Vanguard returned home, Vildan approached him with another theory:

"My Lord," he asked, as he took a seat. "Do you think Melui might possess some sort of gift that had not had a chance to make itself known? If so, it is possible that this made her vulnerable, and when she sensed her parents had died, she suffered severe shock."

"Your theory is a good one," Elrond's voice was rich with understanding. "While is not typical for such gifts to manifest themselves at such a young age, it is not impossible. However, I cannot sense any sort of unusual powers from her."

"Do you think Elladan or Elrohir would see it, if she had?"

"I have asked them both to check, and they agree with my findings. That is not to say she does not possess such powers, but at this time, none of us can see or sense it in her."

Soon after, Vildan found himself in the same chair, struggling to find the courage to ask his next question:

"What if… what if someone has put a spell on her?"

"I am afraid that remains a strong possibility, but if there is, we cannot see it."

"Could Mithrandir help? Surely, his powers could something behind the walls of this prison she is trapped in!"

"I did consider this," Elrond told him. "I sent him a message the week before you arrived, asking that very thing."

"Have you heard back?"

"Not yet, but as soon as I hear anything, I will send for you."

Eight days later, Vildan was summoned to Elrond's study and was handed Mithrandir's answer:

"I would have to meet with the child in person to make any sort of determination. Unfortunately, I am currently in Gondor on important business and cannot get away. Unless it is a life-or-death emergency, I am loathe to risk the good graces of Gwaihir and his Eagles, as my heart tells me I will have need of their assistance in the near future. 1 If it is magick, your best hope is to find the person who cast the spell. In the meantime, I will pray for the child and ask that you keep me informed.

"I am sorry, Lieutenant," Elrond took the paper back, set it on a silver tray and set it on fire.

Vildan stared into the flames. "Do you think whoever might have cursed Melui is the , person who murdered Meássë and Narseg?"

Elrond's eyes were troubled. "I am sure of it."

Sometimes Vildan went to see him simply because his sorrow, his fears, and his longing for all he had lost became too much, and Elrond's study was the only safe space to try and work it out. The Elf-Lord would press a cup of Miruvor into his hands and listened to him talk, or cry, or scream or whatever he needed to do, until the ground under Vildan's feet felt solid again.

These moments of serenity didn't last long, and by the first week of November, his desperation had morphed into rage:

"I feel like we will never know who killed them," Vildan's hands clamped on the arms of his chair until his fingers hurt.

"You must be patient—"

"No!" he surged to his feet and stomped around the room. "I cannot just sit by and do nothing about this!" Vildan threw out his arm, clearing a nearby table of its contents. "This is my family," he roared. "I should be the one to—"

"No dhínen!" Elrond barked; his eyes hard. "Sit down! That is an order, Lieutenant!"

Cheeks burning, Vildan clamped his jaws and sat.

Elrond's voice was both soft and steely. "I am not without sympathy, and if it were one of my family, I would want to do the same. But you must trust us."

"I am a soldier, My Lord," he wiped his eyes. "I am Vanguard, and I should be out there hunting down this Gûdithron!"

Elrond raised his left eyebrow. "Has it occurred to you that this enemy may not be 'out there,' but here in this city?"

"But… That cannot be!" Vildan's head jerked backward as if he were slapped, his gut twisting. "You would know if we had a Kinslayer among us!"

"I am powerful, but I am not infallible. While I can see the hearts of many, there are some who, are closed to me with no nefarious motives. Furthermore, I cannot see into someone's fëa if they are not in my vicinity. Short of going door to door or having every citizen of this land dragged before me—"

"Could you not do this? Surely if—"

"Let me remind you that we are supposed to think Meássë and Narseg were killed by Orcs." Elrond walked around his desk and took the seat beside him, giving his shoulder a comforting squeeze. "Suppose this person is in Imladris; what would happen if he discovered the truth and feels cornered? What would stop this murderer from killing Melui to protect himself?"

"So," Vildan's tongue felt sandy, "if you sent the army to every house in the realm…"

"…he would panic and would want to silence Melui permanently."

Vildan's vision blurred. "I hate feeling so powerless," he said through gritted teeth.

"Not powerless, Vildan. Yours is the most difficult task of all: You must behave normally, never forgetting for a moment that Melui is in danger. Who else could protect her as well as you?"

Vildan blew out a slow breath to calm himself down. "What if I took her somewhere safer?"

"What is to stop the murderer from following you?" Elrond asked. "Even worse, suppose the murderer does not follow: how could Melui get better?" he squeezed his shoulder again. "For now, you are under constant guard while here in my Halls. Do not allow her to leave this building without you, and at least one of my sons."

Vildan chewed on his lower lip. "Is not the fact that we are living in your Halls a clue that something bigger is taking place? How do I explain that?"

"Tell them that until Melui no longer needs constant care, I have ordered that you remain. Elladan is your mentor and friend, so it is natural that he spends a great deal of time with you. Elrohir will also help when needed."

"For how long?"

"As long as it takes." He patted Vildan's hand. "In the meantime, we will not give up hope, yes?"

888

Rivendell, 20th of November 2945 T.A.

Vildan opened his eyes, pulled back the covers, and strode over to the window. He pulled the translucent white curtain, as at the morning sky shone through the small, diamond shaped panes, which was clear but for a few fluffy clouds. He turned the latch near the windowsill, pushed the window outward and enjoyed the warm breeze that lifted a few strands of his long hair to caress his face. After washing, dressing and arranging his hair in its usual bun, he went to Melui's room.

"Aur galu, Dailên!" he said gaily. Keeping his movements slow, Vildan rolled her over to face him. He kissed her temple, picked her up and took her to wash up, all the while keeping up a pleasant chatter.

"The green dress, or the blue?" he held up both. "I like the blue; it matches your eyes." Vildan helped her into warm socks and smalls, then pulled the dress over her head. "I think we will braid your hair today, Mîrë nîn," he said as he laced up her boots, "we do not want it getting tangled, do we?" He sat down on her bed, pulled her into his lap and arranged it neatly out of her eyes. "Perhaps one of these days I will put in in a bun like Tôrano Vida!" he tickled her ribs, something that used to send her into giggle fits.

But Melui was too far away, and Vildan was terrified he would get used to it. Pretending helped. Making himself smile helped. And if he kept his eyes away from her face, he could fool himself into thinking she returned his smile, eyes clear and full of mischief.

Vildan ignored the tears that threatened to appear, and picked her up, settling her on his hip. "I am hungry, are you?"

In the main room, Laniër smiled up at him from the table by the bay windows as she set up breakfast, placing the plates of bread, fruit and cheese. There was tea for the adults and a glass of goat milk for Melui. "Good morning," she said pleasantly. "Did you sleep well?"

"We did," he smiled down at Melui.

She pulled out a chair for him. "Elladan will be here shortly to examine her, so we should eat."

Vildan and Laniër made pleasant conversation, as she poured out his tea (she insisted), buttered his bread, and sliced up his fruit ("It is no trouble; you are busy feeding Melui, and I do not want you to neglect yourself."). Melui sat in her highchair next to him and took the bites he gave her with no trouble. She did not hold her glass, so he put it to her lips and urged her to take small sips.

"What are your plans for today?" Laniër asked him.

"I was thinking about taking Melui riding today. The autumn colors are at their peak and it would be nice to spend time admiring Yavanna's work." 2

"That would be wonderful!" an eager smile graced Laniër's features.

Vildan acted as if he didn't notice. "What about you? Why don't you have some fun with your friends, or Lusiël, if she is not busy? You barely have time to yourself, since all this started."

"I do not mind," she stared down at her plate. "Melui needed me, and you are in mourning—"

"Yes, I am, and I will be for a long, long time." He put down his fork. "Laniër, you had a life—and a career—of your own, and you will eventually need to get back to it. I would never ask you to give all that up for us."

"But Melui still does not respond!" Her lips trembled.

"And we have no idea when or if she will ever recover, do we? You have been wonderful, Mellon nîn." He reached for her hand and squeezed her fingers. "Meássë and Narseg would be grateful beyond words for all you have done," his voice grew gentle. "But Melui is ultimately my responsibility, and I must begin to make plans for our future."

"I know," she tried to meet his eyes. "I just thought perhaps we could help each other through this time."

"And we are! We will! You cannot believe that I wish to phase you out entirely, can you?" he gave her a sympathetic smile. "I will need a great deal of help, but…" he paused, nervous at his next question: "Is it possible you are putting all your energies into looking after us to avoid your own pain?"

"I am not…" She closed her mouth and blinked away the tears that threatened to fall, two bright spots of red emerging on her face.

"Laniër, the last thing I would ever want to do is to hurt you—"

"Speak no more of it," Laniër pulled her hand out from under his and set it in her lap. "I still want to help you if I can."

They avoided each other's gaze for a long moment, until Vildan couldn't stand it anymore and made a fuss over his niece. "Melui! Did you eat your bread all by yourself?" He picked up a napkin to wipe the child's mouth when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," he called. "Dailên," he booped Melui's nose, "Elladan is here!"

"Aur galil!" the Elf bounced into the room. "There she is!" he grinned. "Your braids are lovely, Tithen pen. Did you save me some sweet bread?" he picked up a morsel from her plate and pretended to gobble it up, while scrutinizing her reaction.

"Well," Elladan told him, "she hasn't tensed up when I come; that is some progress, at least."

"We will take victories wherever we can find them." Vildan rose from his chair and picked her up. "Let us take a seat on the couch so our friend can examine you today."

Elladan checked Melui's heart, lungs and reflexes. "Very good…" He snapped his fingers in front of her face several times in a steady rhythm. Then he clapped his hands sharply in front, beside and behind her. "That is the same, but at least it is no worse."

"Laniër," Elladan turned to Elleth, who still sat at the table. "How are you today?" he asked cheerfully.

"I am well." Laniër's smile was unnaturally bright.

"I was thinking of taking Melui riding today," Vildan said. "We have barely left Elrond's Halls since I came, and I am going stir crazy."

"Might I tag along?" Elladan's demeanor remained casual, but they exchanged a meaningful look. "As one of her Healers, I would like to see how she reacts."

Laniër slid her chair back and stood, arranging her skirts. "Please excuse me." She stepped over and kissed Melui on the cheek. "Have a good time, Sweet One." She smoothed the Elfling's braids, then exited the room, closing the door behind her.

Vildan kept his focus on his niece, though he couldn't miss the slight narrowing of Elladan's eyes as he watched her leave the apartment.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"Not at all," he slumped back against the couch cushions and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I should not have mentioned my plans to ride this morning in front of her."

"Whyever not?"

"I just finished telling her I would rather she stay."

"So?" Elladan stared at the door. "She is jealous?"

"She is just hurt. Elrond suggested I spend more time alone with Melui. I worried that my niece might be too attached to Laniër, but the problem might be the other way around."

Elladan's eyebrow arched. "I wonder if Laniër's attachment might not just be to the child?"

"Why?"

Elladan raised both eyebrows.

"Fine, fine," Vildan let out a frustrated groan. "I know what you are thinking, but I promise you there is nothing between us but friendship. Even if that were different, I promise you I have no energy to pursue it, right now."

"Fair enough. Where do you want to go?"

"Melui always loved the Ford," Vildan lowered his voice. "I was hoping that it might stir some memory, but if it would endanger her…"

Elladan's lips twitched as he considered this. "Let me ask my Adar what he thinks. If he deems it too much of a risk, we could always ride around the City for a few hours." He ruffled Melui's hair and got to his feet. "Either way, meet me at the stables in twenty minutes."

"You are doing it again."

Elrond's fingertips were steepled, tapping together in rhythm. "What, pray tell?"

"That," Elladan pointed to his father's hands. "You always do it when you are thinking deep thoughts."

"It is a serious matter, Ion nîn. I hardly think this is the time for levity."

"I disagree, Ada; humor can relax the muscles, which increases the blood flow to the brain, which helps one think more clearly… If memory serves, I learned that from you."

Feigning aggravation, Elrond dropped his hands.

Elladan leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. "So, what are your thoughts?"

"They are safest within my Halls, but we cannot keep them locked away like prisoners. I would like nothing more than to believe Imladris is their best protection, but we both know better." 3 Elrond rubbed his forehead. "If Vildan's suggestion could jog a memory strong enough to free the child, then she could help us find the killer."

"I could arrange an escort," Elladan offered.

"That would be too obvious." After another moment of deliberation, Elrond nodded his assent. "Go; take Elrohir with you. This will be nothing more than a casual outing with friends, to enjoy the sunshine, to admire the autumn leaves, and to allow Melui to benefit from some fresh air."

"I could have the kitchens prepare a picnic lunch."

"Even better, but," Elrond held up a finger. "go no further than the Ford, and do not deviate from the road; take advantage of the sentries' protection. If you are not back by three hours past noon, I will send Glorfindel with a search party."

Their ride to the river was uneventful. Elrohir rode ahead, scanning for any sort of movement, while Elladan rode behind him. Melui was relaxed, leaning against her uncle in the saddle, swaying with the horse's movements, while he softly sang to her.

The breeze was unseasonably warm, and the water at the Ford of Bruinen moved just enough to sparkle in the late morning sun, as they spread out the blanket and unpacked the food.

The twins took turns keeping watch while Vildan took Melui to the water and talked to her about how much she loved to watch him skip rocks. He picked up a stone, positioned it in his fingers and let it go. Four skips. Then another; five. The next one was four again. Six. Three.

Elladan squatted beside them and studied the child's face. "Keep going" he whispered.

Maybe it was the change of scenery. Maybe it was the memory of happier days. Maybe Elrond was right: fresh air can do a world of good. But for just a moment or two, Melui had lost her thousand-yard-stare, and was following the trajectory of the smooth, round stones, as they bounced across the water.

"Look, Mellon!"

Vildan turned his head in time to see her blue eyes focused, and the slight upward curve of her mouth.

"Elgeria i Belain," he murmured, dropping the rock he'd been about to launch and wiped his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "De athae…" He fell to his knees and enveloped Melui in his arms.

"It was only a few moments," Elladan cautioned.

"But it happened," Vildan fought to keep his voice under control. He turned his moistened eyes to Elladan, a note of desperation in his voice. "We did not imagine it?"

"Nay; it was real."

He laughed through his tears and picked up another stone. "Then we will keep going."

After lunch, Vildan helped her settle down for a nap, tucked his cloak around her, tenderly brushing the stray tendrils of hair away from her forehead.

"Have you heard from Tauriel?" Elladan decided to broach another subject. "Surely Mistanâr has given birth by now."

Vildan reached inside his tunic, took out a lock of red hair, bound in a golden, clasp, and a small piece of paper. He handed them over, his gaze averted.

Elladan admired the jewels on the clasp, then unfolded the paper. "'A filly,'" he read, "'of good size was born to Lasbelin and Mistanâr on 21st October 2845 T.A. Takes after her dam, though her coat is as silver as Lord Celeborn's hair.'" His eyes crinkled with mirth. "I know not whether my grandfather would see that as a compliment, but I imagine it means the foal is beautiful." Elladan read the next sentence with a soft laugh. "Tauriel named her Trastapîn? She has a good sense of humor."He handed both tokens back to Vildan, who shoved them back into his pocket.

"Perhaps I should be overjoyed," the muscles in Vildan's jaw clenched, "but for the fact that there is a mountain range between us. This is the most important event in her life, and I should have been there!"

"I know how much you love her, Mellon."

"It is more than that. Mistanâr was all I had left of Ada.

"You have no memories? Nothing that your Ada taught you that still influences you to this day?"

"You know what I mean!" Vildan snapped, his eyes angry. "How long had he struggled with the Sea-Longing?"

"I remember."

"But he and Nana refused to leave. 'Not yet,' Ada would say. "When Mistanâr was born, he made sure I was the first face she saw, the first voice she heard. Ada guided me through her training and when she was deemed ready to serve in the Vanguard as my mount, he said his work was done. So yes, Elladan, Mistanâr was the biggest gift he ever gave me, and now she is gone, he and Nana are gone, Meássë is gone, any hope I ever had with Tauriel is gone, and Melui is…" Vildan struggled to keep his voice under control. "I feel as if I have nothing left."

"That is not true. Just today we have seen improvement," he pointed to the sleeping child. "You cannot yet say Tauriel is lost to you forever. Valendil gave you a lot more than a horse, and so did your Naneth."

Vildan picked at the grass by the edge of the blanket. "I just… If Ada and Nana were still here, they would know what to do about all of this."

"You visit his study nearly every week." Elladan stretched his legs and leaned back on his elbows. "Is my father not offering you guidance and comfort in Valendil's stead?"

"It is the only place where any of us can speak frankly without being overheard."

"That is no surprise; Mithrandir himself placed the Silencing Spells, and none can dislodge it but him. But Ada looks out for you because he was a good friend of your father's, and you are more to him that just one of his Vanguard."

"I am truly grateful for that," Vildan sighed. "But if I had not stayed for the exchange year, none of this would have happened, and Mistanâr would not have gotten pregnant—"

"Meássë and Narseg always accompanied Lord Gildor on his pilgrimages. You have never been assigned to protect them, so how could you have done anything to prevent this? As for Mistanâr," Elladan met Vildan's eyes,"her destiny is more important than you know."

Vildan's mouth dropped open. "What are you saying?"

"I am saying that when Mistanâr was born, Glorfindel and our fathers agreed that you should not know of this right away; the bond between the two of you had to develop naturally, lest it affect—"

"Affect what?" Vildan demanded, then winced as Melui shifted in her sleep. He took the hand that had come out from under the cloak and tucked it back in. "Affect what?" he whispered.

"The reason your father stayed as long as he did was because Glorfindel foresaw Mistanâr's birth, and that she was meant to be yours. Not that you were not worthy of a Meara, but you are much younger than most of the Vanguard, yet you received one of the best horses in Lord Elrond's stables. Did you not wonder at this?"

"I thought she was a gift from Ada, to remember him by."

"She is, of course," he affirmed, "but there is much more to it."

"How much more?"

"The day after Mistanâr was born, my father and Glorfindel came to see her. Ada was amazed, and said, "'Great are the steeds that protect all my Vanguard, but this one outshines them all.'"

"But Glorfindel said, 'Not since Eorl the Young rode Felaróf to the aide of Gondor has this world seen the like.4 Verily, there are also shadows of Nahar, the mighty steed of Oromë, from whom all the Meara have descended.'" 5

Vildan had to prop himself up before he fell over. "He said that?"

"It gets better, Mellon nîn. The way I heard it, Glorfindel looked into the distance and gave this prophesy:

'Great she may be, yet there will be two born from her line, one greater than any born in Aman. 'The Lord of All Horses,' will suffer no one to ride him but that whom he deems worthy, and the fate of nations will rise or fall by the swiftness of his feet. The other shall be the bane of his Master, yet through him, One, who cannot be felled by any man, will meet his doom.'"

"You made that up," Vildan accused.

"I did not. That," Elladan lifted his chin with a half-smile, "has been recorded and given to Lord Erestor for safekeeping. You may look for yourself, if you like."

"But…" Vildan covered his mouth, anxiety in his eyes.

Elladan's brows drew together. "What is wrong?"

"If this is true, is that not all the more reason why Mistanâr should be here and part of our breeding program?"

"Vildan, you are missing the bigger picture, here. Where was Mistanâr when she became pregnant? And did you not tell me that you placed a Nuitha-luith to prevent that? Despite this, she chose Tauriel's horse for her mate and initiated the act, did she not?"

"How could I forget?" he grimaced. "I was furious with her stallion, and Tauriel was furious with me!" 6

"Thankfully not for long," Elladan teased. "But have you considered that Mistanâr was meant to be east of the Misty Mountains? That she was meant to mate with Lasbelin for the very reason Glorfindel spoke of? Let me also point out that Mearas are not exclusive to Rivendell; King Fengel boasts of several such creatures in his Royal Stables that could match your Ada's." 7

Vildan's eyes rested on the swirling water of the Ford. "So… " he murmured, "This could be something… good?"

"I believe so," Elladan smiled warmly as he sat up straight. "Mistanâr might not be with you right now, but she is serving the Valar in her own way, and you should be very proud."

The first genuine smile Elladan had seen on Vildan's face since this nightmare began, convinced him he had made the right choice.

"De athae," for telling me this," Vildan said. "De i mhellon nîn n'uir."

"You are most welcome." Elladan got to his feet with a stretch. "Now, let us go home and tell Ada of Melui's progress."

While they were packing up and getting ready to leave, Elrohir pulled him aside. "Gwanûr, did our Adar give you permission to tell him?"

"No," Elladan shook his head, "but if Ada is displeased, I will gladly bear the consequences."

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ELVEN TRANSLATIONS:

Aur galil! – Good morning everyone!

Aur galu, Dailên! – Good morning, Little Beauty!

De athae… - Thank you

Elgeria i Belain – Praise the Valar

Gûdithron – evil sorceror

Gwanûr – brother

Mistanâr - "Wandering Mouse" the name of Vildan's Grullo-colored mare

No dhínen!- Be silent!

Nuitha-luith – Spell to prevent female animals from becoming pregnant. (lit. "to prevent from coming to completion-spell")

Tôrano Vida – "Uncle Vida" Melui couldn't pronounce Vildan yet.

Trastapîn – "Little Mischief" Mistanâr's foal. Lord Thranduil foresaw she would be trouble.

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NOTES:

1 Indeed, Gwaihir does assist Gandalf frequently during the War of the Ring.

2 /wiki/Yavanna

3 SCOM, Ch. 7: /works/26090521/chapters/72741651

4 /wiki/Felar

5 /wiki/Nahar

6 Broken Wings, Ch. 11: /works/20519588/chapters/50766088

7 /wiki/Fengel

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