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Chapter Ten
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SUMMARY: Back in Rivendell, Vildan carries on as best he can, and settles a couple of matters that can no longer be put off. One decision came as a relief…
…and one did not.
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"It's always times like these
When I think of you
And wonder if you ever think of me
Cause everything's so wrong and I don't belong
Living in your precious memory
Cause I need you
And I miss you
And now I wonder
If I could fall into the sky
Do you think time would pass me by?
Cause you know I'd walk a thousand miles
If I could just see you tonight…"
A Thousand Miles by Vanessa Carlton
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Rivendell, 30th of January 2946 T.A.
To everyone's delight, the mild temperatures of November continued well into December. Just before Yule, however, Winter woke at last and, ashamed of its indolence, made up for lost time by sending a blizzard into the region that lasted three full days. January saw lots of snow, two more blizzards, and temperatures as low to the same degree as they had been high in the autumn. Lord Elrond remarked that he had not seen such a harsh season in eight centuries. Many of the Elven folk teased the returning Vanguard for bringing the weather from the Northern Kingdoms. Vildan didn't much care either way. To him it seemed fitting that the chill outside reflect the frozen ice of his heart.
Since the small miracle at the Ford last November, Melui had remained much the same, though he, Elladan, and Laniër wracked their brains to find ways to stimulate her. Elrond pointed out that she had not regressed, and that was something to be thankful for. Vildan agreed and tried to make it be enough, but it was becoming increasingly apparent that he just needed…more.
When the city was buried under three feet of snow, Vildan jumped at the chance to help his colleagues dig everyone out and bring food and supplies to all the outlying villages. Elladan noted the improvement in his friend's mood and, after a private word with his father, asked Glorfindel to put Vildan back on the roster on a part-time basis, to give him some structure and a sense of normalcy. Laniër did the same, and once they coordinated their schedules to look after Melui, things settled into a routine that worked for everyone.
Deep down, Vildan was relieved at spending fewer hours in Laniër's presence. Elladan's earlier observation that her feelings might be stronger than friendship had niggled at him the past few months. The growing burden of guilt weighed on him, but he stubbornly ignored it, hoping it the situation would resolve itself without anyone getting hurt.
Yule came and went, the New Year was celebrated with all the usual festivals, and after another month of procrastinating, it was time to decide where he and Melui went from here.
Which meant doing something else he had been dreading.
Vildan and Elladan had come down a particular street and stopped before to the house with the dark blue door, the third on the left. The exterior of Meássë's home was the same as the others on the row with its smooth light grey concrete, gracefully ornate iron railings along the steps, and the plaque on the door bore a whimsical caricature of a grinning falcon, holding three arrows in its claws.
"Are you sure about this?" Elladan asked softly.
"Yes." Vildan climbed the steps and took the key from his pocket, and if his hand shook a little as he placed it in the lock, he was grateful to his friend for not to mentioning it.
The cheery, comfortable parlor was just as he remembered it, although the coating of dust over the furniture wasn't. Narseg's books were stacked by his favorite chair, and Meássë's basket of needlework was under the table at the end of the couch. She liked to sit close to her husband in the evenings and work quietly while he read to aloud. The small smile teased the corners of Vildan's mouth as a memory spoke to him.
Meássë had once confided that she didn't care for Narseg's tastes in literature, but would never tell him:
Vildan was baffled. "That is ridiculous," he said. "You should say something if you do not enjoy it."
"I did not say I did not enjoy it," she gave him a conspiratorial wink. "He loves to share this part of himself with me. Who am I to disappoint him?"
"It might be a small one, but it is still a lie," Vildan scowled. "Is it not wrong to deceive him like this?"
"Ah, the wisdom of an Ellon who has never been in love," she laughed. "Narseg could read me an agricultural manual and I would still love hearing the sound of his voice."
"I do not understand," he said.
"You will," Meássë gave him a serene smile and patted his arm. "One day, you will."
The kitchen was off the parlor to the right, and Vildan spied a mug of what used to be tea on the table, most likely left behind the night Melui became ill. He took it to the sink and tried to clean the inside, but the brown liquid left a permanent stain, an affront to the white porcelain, just as its reason for being there was a stain on his own soul.
At least twice a week, more often three times, Vildan had enjoyed dinner with his family, always seated next to Melui, at her insistence.
"Can you say Vildan?" he urged the Elfling. "Veel-dahn. You try it."
From her high-chair, Melui stared at him in fascination as she chewed on her string bean.
Narseg smirked as he handed Meássë the bowl of lettuce. "She is too young to say such words."
"Of course she is not!" Vildan gasped in mock-offense. "My niece is brilliant." He grinned at the child. "Let us try again, little beauty; Veel-dahn. And you," he pointed to her, "are Melui."
Melui's forehead wrinkled as she watched his mouth again. She set down her spoon, pointed at him and said, "Vee-dah!"
"Did you hear that?" Vildan beamed. "Say it again!"
"Vida!" Melui crowed, pointing at him.
"Wonderful! And you are?"
"'wee." She grinned. "Wee!"
Meássë ruffled the baby's hair. "She said, 'Vida,' not 'Vildan.'"
"Nay. She said it perfectly," He cupped her small, soft cheek. "She is perfect."
The master bedroom was neatly made, of course; Laniër used it while Meássë and Narseg were gone, and the Elleth was a fastidious housekeeper.
His sister's personal things were still on her dresser, also covered in a delicate layer of dust. He picked up the silver hand mirror and wiped the glass clean. The Elf who stared back at him looked old, with worry lines around his mouth and weary, dull eyes.
Meássë's jewelry box was carved out of walnut with mother-of-pearl inlay, a gift from her husband. Vildan lifted the lid and picked up one of the pear-shaped sapphire earrings he had bought from the Dwarves in Erebor and sent her as a gift. Meássë never wore jewelry while she worked, lest the falcons become distracted, but Vildan found himself wishing she'd taken them with her to the Tower Hills; not as a protective talisman, but a simple reminder of a brother who adored her.
Where were the earrings he'd bought for Melui? He fumbled around the box's contents, then checked the small drawers. His shoulders relaxed some when he pulled out the bottom drawer and spotted the little round jewels in their solid gold setting. Were the baby's ears pierced? He'd never thought to check.
Their silver betrothal rings were in their small velvet pouch, but the gold wedding rings must have either been buried with them, or taken by Elrond for safekeeping. Vildan didn't mind either way, but Melui might want them when she was older.
Across the hall was his niece's room, and the sight of Melui's disheveled bedclothes brought tears to Vildan's eyes. On the nights he came to dinner, the child would insist that her beloved uncle put her to bed with at least two stories.
"Ai nae!" Meássë would tease, as she and Narseg came in to kiss their daughter good night. "You spoil our child, Hanar nîn."
"But Nana," Melui would say, with huge blue eyes that could charm a Warg into submission. "Tôrano Vida tells them better!"
He gave his sister a sheepish smile. "I always do the voices. And you," Vildan tickled his niece under the chin and making her giggle, "are very good at persuasion."
Last June, the night before his unit left for Lothlorien, he'd made a point to spend the entire day with Meássë and her family. 1 And, because Tôrano Vida was going to go away, his Dailên talked him into singing, too. After the bedtime rituals were dutifully observed, Vildan stood and tucked the blankets around her.
"Ada is a soldier," she said, when Vildan leaned down to kiss her forehead.
"Yes, he is," he answered. "As am I."
Melui tapped her lips and considered this news. "But I think Ada is better."
"He has been a soldier far longer than I," Vildan sat back down on the bed and patted her leg. "Your Ada is very brave."
"Are you brave?"
"I like to think so."
"But not as brave as Ada."
"I am sure you are right."
"Do not feel bad, Vida." Her eyes grew serious. Someday you will be as good as Ada."
Vildan stifled his amusement. "Do you really think so?"
She nodded vehemently. "Why do you have to go away?"
"Lord Elrond had to go to the Golden Wood with Mithrandir. I have to help make sure he gets home safely."
"Ada said he flew away on a big, big, bird."
"How big?" he smirked.
She spread out her arms as far as they could go. "Why did he have to go?"
"Some people were in trouble, and Lord Elrond wanted to help save them."
"Is Elrond brave?"
"Braver than even your Ada. He is one of the greatest Elves in the whole world."
"Oh," Melui let that sink in. "You will take good care of him?"
"I will do my utmost."
"When will you be back?"
"I do not know, but I will send letters for Nana to read to you. If you are a very good Elfling," Vildan booped her nose, " who drinks all her milk and eats her vegetables, I might even send presents. Would you like that?"
Melui's eyes danced as tucked her chin into her chest and squirmed with excitement.
"Dû galu, Dailên nîn." He stood and leaned down to kiss her brow.
"Dû galu," Melui yawned as she rolled onto her side and tucked her hands under her cheek. "Gi melin, Vida."
I love you, Vida.
Three words that he probably won't ever hear again. Vildan covered his eyes and let the tears come.
"Mellon?" Elladan asked from the doorway, "are you well?"
Startled, he sat up straight and wiped the heel of his hand across his eyes. "Sorry," he sniffed.
"Do not be." Elladan stepped into the room. "Have you decided what you want to do with the house?"
"Yes," his voice roughened.
Elladan's face softened. "Too many bad memories?"
"Just the opposite," he rasped.
"Might Melui do better in familiar surroundings?"
"Who knows?" he swiped his handkerchief under his nose. "But it will do her little good if we move in and I am driven mad by ghosts. They are all gone, Elladan, in one way or another. I have to let them go and find a way forward. I cannot do it here."
"What do you want to do?"
"Give the clothes away to the poor, then sell the house, the furniture, and everything else."
"I can help with that," Elladan said. "Do you really believe Melui is gone forever?"
"It takes too much energy to hope," he admitted shakily. "Energy that is in short supply these days. I need to say goodbye to the Melui that was my sister's child, and accept the Melui who is mine. She needs me to love her as she is now."
Vildan went to the white dresser and searched through the drawers until he found an empty pillowcase. He opened it and crammed every toy he could fit inside. Then he stepped past his friend, retrieved Meássë's walnut and mother-of-pearl box from her room and handed Elladan the keys.
After locking up, they headed back, with Elladan waving to neighbors and acquaintances along the way. Two blocks from the apartment, a familiar figure, with dark hair piled atop her head in attractive braids came into view.
"Lusiël!" Elladan waved. "Come and say hello, Vildan."
"I am really not in the mood—"
"You have not spoken to her since you returned, and her cousin has done a lot for us. I will not allow you to hurt her feelings." He grabbed Vildan's elbow and forced him across the street. "Lusiël!" he said again. " It has been too long since we have seen you in my father's halls. How do you fare?"
If Laniër was a lovely Elf, her cousin was downright gorgeous. Both were a bit on the quiet side, but Lusiël had always been painfully shy. At Elladan's and Vildan's approach, her cheeks reddened, and she tilted her head shyly, not meeting their eyes. "Mae govanthen," she said. "How is Melui pin today?"
"It is to your cousin's credit that she is doing as well as she is," Vildan said. "You are always welcome to visit Laniër whenever you wish."
"You are most kind," Lusiël smiled, her gaze still focused on the ground in front of them, "though I am not sure when I can spare the time. Lord Erestor has commissioned a tapestry depicting King Gil-Galad freeing Imladris during the Siege of Eradior.2 It is quite an involved project and I want to get it just right."
"I can see why Erestor chose you," Elladan said warmly. "Every visitor to my father's halls admires your work."
"Imladris under siege?" Vildan was shocked.
"He is young," Elladan apologized, as he elbowed Vildan's ribs, "and did not pay attention to his history lessons." 3
"I see you have been busy," Lusiël observed the items they were carrying.
Elladan, pointed to the pillowcase. "Melui might enjoy the rest of her toys."
"Laniër has been wonderful to my niece and a good friend to me," Vildan praised earnestly. "I am grateful for her help, but I fear I am taking advantage."
"There is no need to be concerned. She does it out of love." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Lusiël's face turned the shade of a ripe tomato. Her eyes widened at her audacity and grabbed her skirts. "I… must hurry; it was nice to see you again."
After Lusiël scurried off, Vildan exchanged a meaningful look with his mentor. "Do not say it," he murmured. Then he turned on his heel and marched on.
"I think," Elladan easily caught up to him, "that she means Laniër loves Melui."
"That is not all she meant," Vildan's left eye twitched, "and you know it."
"So, you are not considering a marriage of convenience for Melui's sake?"
Vildan gave him a venomous look. "That is not funny," he growled.
"If it is not true, you need to find a way to let her down gently."
"How?" Vildan's head fell back, and he stared up at the sky with a groan. "How do I do that without hurting her, or making her hate me?"
"You cannot," Elladan said.
"I would rather face down two dozen Orcs than this. I know it is weak and cowardly, but I cannot handle this right now."
"Do not put it off for too long. But the longer you wait, the harder it will be for everyone."
Over the next weeks, he made a point to keep his distance with Laniër, and avoided the whole thing. It wasn't until the beginning of March that a solution presented itself, and for good or ill, Vildan knew it was time.
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888
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Rivendell, 4th of March 2946 T.A.
"Mae govanthen!" Vildan entered the apartment after his sword practice. He set his equipment in his room, washed up and returned to the Sitting Room went to kiss his child.
Laniër was seated at the table, arranging a few sprays of evergreen into a decoration. Melui was beside her, a scrap of ribbon in one of her hands, while Laniër held the other and helped her feel the textures of the pine needles.
"Does this not smell wonderful?" she breathed deeply through her nose, then smiled up at Vildan. "You seem happy with your drills today."
"I am pleased, but for another reason." Vildan pulled out one of the other chairs and took Melui into his lap. "Grithnir and his wife have just bought Meássë's house, furniture and all!"
"Really?" Laniër said, a little too brightly.
"I had doubts, but now that it is done, I know it was the right thing. We cannot hold on to something that is no longer there." Vildan paused for a moment to prepare his next words. After a deep breath to muster his courage, he said in a kind tone, " Neither is it wise to hold on to what was never there; do you not agree?"
Laniër's eyes left her work and met his gaze. "I am not sure what you mean."
Here it is. Vildan licked his lips. "As soon as Lord Elrond deems Melui strong enough, I plan to buy a house for us."
"I see." Her lips thinned into a resolute line, yet the tears that welled up threatened to fall. "Just you and her, then?"
"I would never keep her from you; you must know that." His heart lurched at her downcast eyes.
She stared down at the branches. "I know."
"If I said or did anything to mislead you, Laniër, then I am truly sorry." He risked a glance in her direction, and wished he hadn't."I wish I could give you what your heart desires, but I cannot. We both care about Melui and you are a dear friend, but it is not enough to justify a fallacy of a marriage. We would end up hating each other and I do not want that, and you deserve better."
She swiped at her cheeks. "I… forgive me for being so foolish."
"You are wrong, Mellon. It is I who must ask forgiveness. I had no idea you felt this way, until Elladan—"
"What," her grey eyes grew icy, "does Elladan have to do with any of this?"
Ai, gorgor. Vildan stomach sank at his utter stupidity. "I only meant to say that I have been too torn up to notice anything but my own grief, and Elladan does not want to see you get hurt. He is right, Lanier. I should have made things plain long ago, and made other arrangements to spare you any pain—"
"No," she said, her voice clipped, businesslike, "you should not have. Melui's welfare is your first priority, and that is what Meássë would have wanted. You sister entrusted her daughter into my care, and I have honored that." Laniër rose from the chair and smoothed down her dress. "Are we finished?" she asked, businesslike. "Because I want to leave."
He reached for her hand. "Laniër, I never—"
She cringed away from his touch, then forced herself to be calm. "I understand, Vildan. Truly, I do, but I will deal with my humiliation in private, rather put in on display for all to see." She went to the coat rack and pulled down her fur-lined cloak.
"Where are you going?" he bit his lip.
"Anywhere but here!" she shouted, eyes full of disappointment and anger. "Do you honestly expect me to stay here," she waved toward the table, "and just have a normal evening after this? Or are you that obtuse? Or is it that you are just arrogant?"
"That is not fair!" he yelled back. Melui squirmed in his lap and leaned her head against chest. Vildan made soothing noises and stroked her hair as he forced himself to calm down. "I deserved that, and you have every right to be angry with me," he said evenly. "But I am honestly doing the best I can, would you please remember that?"
"It is because of…her, yes? The Woodland King's daughter?"
Vildan's jerked back in shock. In that moment, his two worlds, the one he left and the one he returned to, crashed together. The distance he had so carefully cultivated during the last six months had been wiped away, destroyed by a clap of thunder that shook his very bones.
"Laniër," he said quietly, forcing his voice to remain even. "You do not understand—"
"Let me tell you what I do understand, Vildan," Laniër had gone pale with fury. "Your sister died, her husband died, and your niece, your last living relative is very unwell. You have nearly lost yourself in grief, but has she come to support you? You carry around a lock of her hair, but she can she be bothered to write you? Have you received anything but the news that your horse gave birth?"
"No," he admitted.
"No!" she yelled. "She has not sat up with you while you cried. She has not made sure you have eaten enough, and this Elleth has not lifted a finger to help Melui, has she? She knows nothing of your struggles since you came home, yet if she did bother to show her face here, you would kneel at her feet and cry with joy."
"That is enough!" Vildan jumped up so fast the chair toppled over. He balanced Melui on his hip as he said through gritted teeth. "I know I have hurt you, and I am sorry for it, but I care enough about you to let you throw away your life like this."
"You presume to know what is best for my own life, my own heart?" She laughed bitterly, her cheeks wet. "If you had any idea how hard I have tried to protect you and Melui—"
"'Protect me?" he scowled. "What are you talking about? "Laniër! You will tell me—"
But she was gone.
Vildan stood at the mouth of a cave on the west shore of the Bruinen River. The day was beautiful and warm, and the sun reflected off the moving water and lit up Melui's golden hair as she waded into the waters of the Ford. Laniër, was nearby, keeping watch. Off to the left, Mistanâr contently grazed on sweet grass, while her foal, Trastapîn, frolicked toward the shallow water, kicked up her heels, and soaked Melui from head to toe, much to the child's delight.
It was a merry picnic. Elrond sat cross-legged, playing his harp while Meássë and Narseg danced together, smiling into each other's eyes. Elladan and Elrohir lounged in the tall grass, laughing at some private joke that only twins could know.
Vildan enjoyed the relaxed scene as his eyes were drawn to the large, lovely hickory tree at the edge of the meadow to the right. A gentle breeze swayed the branches to and fro and the soft rush of the wind through the leaves was the perfect accompaniment to Elrond's music.
The purposeful movement of one of the high branches drew his eye, and before he could move or even shout a word of warning, a faint twang was followed by a wet thunk as a crude, black-feathered arrow sank deep into the heart of the Lord of Imladris, who slumped forward against his harp and never moved again.
"Ae Belain, natho din!" Vildan raced out of the cave to get to them, but was stopped by some sort of barrier. He backed to gain speed and tried again, but he only bounced off and landed on his backside.
No one noticed that Elrond was dead. Meássë and Narseg danced as if the music had never stopped. Elladan and Elrohir were now making whistles out of blades of grass. Melui, Laniër and the horses were as content as before.
Another zing, another wet sound of sharp metal hitting live flesh. Trastapîn stopped her play and fell in the water, her head submerged.
"Natho!" Vildan screamed again. "Help! "
Narseg was the next to fall, blood pouring from his mouth, yet Meássë laughed and danced like Luthien in the forest. Mistanâr was felled by an Orc arrow through her eye. Then the twins.
Meássë was struck in back of her neck, and when she fell forward with blank eyes. Vildan sank to his knees and began to cry.
Melui threw a smooth stone into the river and it skipped again and again down the river until it was out of sight. Laniër clapped her hands and showered her with praise.
"Laniër! Ego! Ego! Get the baby out of here! Laniër, please!" he begged, as yet another arrow peeked out from the leaves.
Confused, the Elleth looked around to see where the voice was coming from and gasped at the corpses lying in pools of blood.
A wild surge of hope rose in his chest. "Go!" he shouted, still trying to break through.
"Melui!" Laniër whipped out her dirk and grabbed the child's arm. "Hold on to the back of my skirt and do not let go!" She kept a fighting stance as she carefully backed them toward a thicket that suddenly appeared.
"Crawl under this bush, sweetling," she commanded. "Tuck yourself into a nice, tight ball for me. Do not come out, no matter what you hear."
"Where is Tôrano Vida?" Melui asked tearfully.
"He will come for you soon; now go, quickly!"
Once the child was hidden away, Laniër's face grew hard and determined. She raced across the meadow to the hickory tree and jumped on the lowest limb. Defying gravity, Laniër climbed up through its branches at a pace unheard of, even for an Elf. The entire tree shook, and the air was filled with the grunts and shouts of hand-to-hand combat.
Then, a sharp inhalation, a moan of agony, and Laniër landed on the ground in a bloody, broken heap.
"Û, nae…" Vildan whispered, afraid to chance any sort of noise. His brown eyes were riveted to the bush where his child was hiding. "Please, stay there," he prayed. "Do not move, Dailên…"
All was silent. A lock of Mistanâr's mane lifting in the breeze. A butterfly danced among the tall wildflowers. A rabbit came out of the thicket and stood on its hind legs, wriggling its nose at the strange sight and smells.
Vildan's slumped against the glass, for it must be glass that kept him prisoner. His child, all he had left in this world, was a hair's breadth from death and there was nothing he could do about it.
Small fingers crept out from under the bush, turning over to absorb the warmth of the sun. A forearm followed, then a shoulder, followed by feet, legs and torso. Melui got on her hands and knees and backed out, perhaps to avoid the sight of the carnage. Vildan splayed his hands and pressed his nose against the glass-like barrier. Go back, he prayed to the Valar, though it was increasingly hard to breathe. I beg of you, help her go back, go backgobackgoback…
Melui got to her feet and turned her head toward the noise.
"Melui!" he cried before he could stop himself. Her eyes lit up when she saw him and he realized his mistake.
The relieved Elfling raced toward him, arms open wide, but she, too was felled by the barrier that separated them. Frustrated and frightened, she pounded and kicked at the thick glass as she screamed his name. "Vida!" she yelled, hitting it again and again. "Tôrano Vida!"
Vildan opened his mouth to respond, but he couldn't get enough air into his lungs.
Behind Melui, a graceful figure dropped out of the tree and landed beside Laniër's body. This was no Orc.
Melui was crying now, her face wet with tears as she begged him to help. "Vida," she sobbed. "Please!"
The assassin tossed his chestnut hair and turned to face him with a grin.
It was himself.
What little breath Vildan had left him, and his mouth hung open as he desperately clawed at his throat.
"No, Tôrano Vida!" Melui her arm swiped through the air as if to slap him, again and again. "Vida, you must wake up. Wake up!"
Her high-pitched screams morphed into the deeper voice of an adult Ellon.
"Vildan! Vildan!" The sound of flesh hitting flesh was a crack of a whip, and his right cheekbone exploded in pain.
"Wake up!" Another hard slap and another shout, more of a frantic sob this time. "Please, Mellon nîn, YOU MUST WAKE UP!"
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ELVEN TRANSLATIONS:
Ae Belain, natho din! Natho! Dhen iallonnatho! – Oh, Valar help them! Help! I beg of you; help!
Ai, nae… - Oh, no…
Dailên – Little beauty
Dailên nîn - My little beauty
De mhilui dae – You are very kind.
Dû galu, Dailên nîn – Good night, my Little Beauty
Hanar nîn – my brother
Melui pin – little Melui
Tôrano Vida – Uncle Vildan
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NOTES:
1 Legolas, Ion nîn, Ch. 20: /works/17088320/chapters/43700078
2 /wiki/First_Siege_of_Imladris
3 Vildan is only 828 years old. Elladan is much older at 2816.
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