Chapter Thirty-Four
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SUMMARY: The Tale of Two (Elven) Cities continues and both gangs have done their best. And just as Bard wonders, "What happens now?"
So do we. Elrond points out some things to his son that he hadn't considered.
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"Once upon a time there was a boy who loved a girl, and her laughter was a question he wanted to spend his whole life answering."
– Nicole Krauss, The History of Love
Lothlórien, 22nd of August 2946 T.A.
At last, the singing stopped. With a wave of her hand, the vision of Vildan, surrounded by the Lords of Rivendell faded away. Everyone huddled around the Mirror of Galadriel swayed slightly, as if released by invisible bonds.
"What happens now?" Bard blinked in Galadriel's direction. He was grateful that the blinding bright vial was back in its box, but when were those bright spots in his vision going to go away?
"All we can do is wait," she closed the lid.
Celeborn latched it and tucked it under his arm. "Elrond or one of my grandsons will send word."
"Send word about what?" Thranduil demanded. "Why was Vildan lying unconscious on that tower?"
"What was that tower?" Bard asked. 1
Mithrandir raised his hands to calm everyone. "Let's all go back to the Lord and Lady's house get something to eat, and I'll tell you everything."
Privately, Bard was grateful. He was tired, as they all were, after working with the others to do whatever-it-was to Vildan's spine, but at least it wasn't as bad as when he'd helped Thranduil heal Rhian just after Darryn was born. 2 Mostly he was hungry and was craving a cup of strong tea. Or two.
But Galadriel said, "I have arranged for a meal to be served on the Forest Floor, in deference to our human guests and our general fatigue. Thank you for helping."
"She means that," Celeborn said. "Her healers and I could not have allowed this without everyone's help. She is still not completely restored after Dol Guldur." 3 He offered his wife his other arm, and they led the group out of the Garden.
Bard and the others were taken to an immense, lovely catalpa tree. Its broad leaves offered a fragrant shade with its clusters of showy, bell-shaped white flowers. The table was laden with platters of sweetbreads and butter, honey, rolls and soft cheeses, plus pitchers of water, juice and pots of steaming liquid rising into the air from their spouts.
"Oh, praise the Stars," Rhian whispered. "I'm starving!" Then she flushed, embarrassed at her outburst.
"Don't worry," Bard smiled at her. "You took the words right out of my mouth."
Once seated and served, Gandalf rested his forearms on the table and began his tale:
"On the 5th of March, which, as I understand it, was the same day that you had your troubles in Dale, you know of some of the events that occurred in Rivendell. An Elleth named Lusiël, turned out to be a sorceress working for our mutual enemy Pallando—" 4
"May the Void forever torment him," Thranduil interjected, with a sour frown.
"Well," Gandalf gave them a wry smile, "you'll be happy to know that Námo sent Lusiël to the same place—or non-place, if you will—and they cannot harm anyone anymore."
"That day was a disaster on both sides of the Misty Mountains," Celeborn said sadly. "One can only hope that all remnants of Pallando's evil have been defeated."
"I believe so," Galadriel said, "but let us never forget the source of Pallando's power. Unless the Dark Lord himself is destroyed, we must remain vigilant."
"I agree," the wizard nodded his deference to the Lady. "So you know about Vildan and Melui falling off that cliff and landing in the river, and how they miraculously survived."
"I didn't," Bard said, glancing at Thranduil, who looked just as puzzled as he did.
"I still do not understand," the Elvenking asked. "There is another reason why Vildan has not contacted Tauriel?"
"Ah." Gandalf nodded. "I thought Elrond would tell you at least that. Best to start at the beginning, then. We have discovered that Pallando was behind the attack on Celebrian."
"Surely not!" Thranduil's eyes instantly filled with rage. "How?"
Bard didn't say anything, but wracked his memory. Who was she again?
She was our daughter, a soft voice inside his head said. She was also Elrond's most beloved wife…
Bard whipped his head around until his gaze rested upon Galadriel and Celeborn, whose eyelashes fluttered in an attempt to hold back their emotions. I'm truly sorry, he thought, hoping they could hear or sense or whatever it is she could do.
"Lusiël was born with exceptional gifts from the Valar, but Pallando seduced her into using those to serve the Dark Lord. Her thirst for power caused her to help Pallando capture the Lady Celebrian, and, as a reward, he gave Lusiël what she believed was Celebrian's emerald necklace.6 It was a copy, and it was filled with dark magic, much like that ring that was used to ensnare Saeros." 7
A gasp went around the table.
"Elladan and Elrohir made attempts to destroy it, and nearly got themselves killed in the process."
"That I can believe," Thranduil said, winking at Celeborn before turning back to the wizard. "I assume you saved them in the nick of time?"
"With less than a second to spare. It was a reckless move, but they had no way of knowing the truth, and wanted to protect their people."
"Well," Bard picked up his tea and held it up as a toast, "you can't fault them for that."
"True. So, with the help of that necklace," Gandalf continued his story, "it was also Lusiël who persuaded another Elf to kill Vildan's sister and brother-in-law."
"Not Orcs?"
"No. Lusiël's cousin Laniër was in love with Vildan, and they suspected he was forming an attachment to Tauriel. Lusiël was…shall we say, very possessive of Laniër, and in her own twisted way, wanted to give Vildan a reason to come back, so her cousin could marry him. And Lusiël was responsible for Melui's illness. The child witnessed a conversation between the cousins revealing the truth, and for that she was silenced."
"That's terrible!" Rhian looked stricken. "The poor baby."
"The good news is that, the spell was lifted at Lusiël's death. The bad news is, the spell was lifted while Melui and Vildan were falling off a cliff into the Bruinen River."
"What?" Bard's eyes went wide, hardly believing what he was hearing.
"Laniër realized the danger everyone was in and tried to kill Lusiël, to stop her. She paid with her life and immobilized Elrond and his entire Council, then kidnapped Melui to draw Vildan out."
"Gorgor…" Thranduil murmured. "Go on," he said.
Vildan caught up with them at the edge of a cliff, the ground gave way and Vildan jumped after them. 8 Lusiël was killed immediately, but Vildan grabbed the child and did whatever he could to keep her head above water while the river, swollen and enraged by recent storms, swept them to the Ford. He did it, but in the process, his spine was twisted in two."
"That would explain the scarring I saw," Daeron winced and closed his eyes. He bowed his head, as Rhian rubbed his arm, near tears herself.
"Ho—" Bard cleared his throat. "How is he now?"
"Hopefully better," Gandalf explained. "They healed his bones, and even his spinal cord, but he needed to keep perfectly still so all the nerves could reattach and function. It was an experimental process, as Elrond had never seen such an injury before. Vildan was put into a healing sleep for several months."
"Which would explain why Vildan never wrote." The complete picture was forming in Bard's mind.
"Yet he did not contact any of us after he woke." Thranduil said, his brows lowered. "Tauriel has put on a brave front, but she has been deeply hurt by it."
The wizard sighed, sadly. "He would not allow any of us to do that. You see, not even Elrond could completely restore Vildan to the Elf he once was. Whereas he was paralyzed from the waist down, it was still a better alternative than the way he has been suffering. The nerves have not healed well, and he has been in constant pain. He cannot walk more than a few yards and only then with crutches. He still needs constant care: he cannot ride, he cannot fight, he cannot be a soldier, and this has left him dangerously depressed."
"Lt. Vildan had requested passage to the Grey Havens to sail," Celeborn added. "He would have left this morning, had Elladan not written to his us asking for help."
"Which explains why he was carried through those bushes, unconscious." Thranduil said.
"Why not just let him go?" Bard asked. "Tauriel would be heartbroken, but she'd understand."
The Wizard exchanged glances with the Lord and Lady before answering. "We discussed this at length, and we believe that Melui—and by extension—Vildan must remain. It seems that the gifts that Lusiël squandered were taken from her and gifted into that child, and though we don't understand the entirety of it, one or both of them have a role to fulfill here."
"And if we did not succeed?" Daeron asked.
With a sigh, Gandalf said wearily. "Then he should sail, with our good wishes. But at least we can show the Valar we tried. I don't know if it will help, but it should count for something."
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888
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Rivendell, 23rd of August 2946 T.A.
"You are wearing a hole in that carpet, Ion nîn," Elrond's eyes remained on the document he was studying.
The Lord of Imladris was seated in the sitting room of Vildan's apartment, with a stack of work on the side table. Elladan couldn't sit still. He sat for a few minutes, then rose and fidgeted and paced. Just after breakfast, Elrohir had taken Melui for a ride to keep her busy, along with Estel. In Vildan's bedroom, Elrond's assistants were taking turns sitting by the patient's bed, checking his vital signs.
"When will we know?" Elladan asked his father for the third time in three hours.
"When he wakes up, and no, I am not going to let you force him." Elrond glared at him. "I am just as anxious as you, but we have never done something like this before and I want to give his body time to settle."
"Suppose it did not work, what happens then?" Elladan asked, clasping his fingers.
"Suppose it does work," Elrond countered, his left eyebrow quirked wrinkling his forehead. "Have you thought about that? Or have you been solely focused on his healing?"
Elladan stopped in his tracks, and his fingers curled into fists and released again. "I have, but not much. It seemed too impossible to hope for, until now. Suppose he has been fully healed?"
With a sigh, Elrond set the paper aside and rearranged his light blue robes. "Vildan still has the freedom to choose where he wishes to be. If he wants to sail, then we will help him," he gave his son a sharp glare, "and we will not say anything against it. If he wants to stay in Imladris, then we will support him, and," his featured softened, "if he wants to go to the North, I will release him from my service, and we will wish him well." A twinkle of sympathy shone in Elrond's eyes. "We will miss them. You, most of all."
The next breath sagged Elladan's shoulders, and he sat down on the chair and drummed his fingers on the arms with nervous energy. "He is my best friend. You are right that I will miss him, but as his friend, I want him to be happy."
"And whatever we might believe, Vildan is the only one who knows what he needs." He smiled at his son. "Your idea to contact your grandmother was inspired. I am surprised I did not think of that, especially after examining King Bard's youngest child, and seeing how my father's light changed her."
"Do you think Vildan will experience any sort of special gift?"
"Who can say?" Elrond shrugged. "It may surprise you to know that I hope it doesn't."
"Really?" Elladan blinked and drew in his brows. "Why?"
"Because the last thing that poor Ellon needs is more excitement." Elrond folded his hands across his lap. "Do you realize it has only been one year since Meássë and her husband were killed—less than a blink of an eye to Elves! That day was the beginning of the loss of everything dear to him, all within a cruelly short period of time."
"But Melui—"
"Melui was lost to him too, and he was forced to watch her as a living, breathing ghost, with no hope. Yet he fought for her, he worked for her, and he kept going. Praise Varda, she was restored to him, but he never had a chance to rejoice in it, because in that same moment he lost the use of his legs, and his occupation, along with any hope of pain-free happiness in our world."
Elladan said nothing, but swallowed hard, knowing his father spoke the truth.
"Ion nîn, your devotion for your friend has been remarkable, and I am proud of you. I also know you might not want to accept this, but I believe Vildan's fëa is nearly as broken as that of your mother before she was forced to leave." His eyes lowered to the folded hands in his lap. "If there was any way our combined efforts could heal an Elf's mind, do you not think I would have consulted your grandmother's mirror long before this? Or carried her to Lothlórien with my own two arms and gathered such a group around that plinth to restore her mind? Her fëa?
"Such matters are beyond our purview, Elladan. All we can do is wait and see."
Elladan buried his face in his hands, just as the attendant rushed into the room.
"My Lord Elrond! He wakes!"
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ELVEN TRANSLATIONS:
Ion nîn – My son
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NOTES:
1 SCOM, Ch. 6: /works/26090521/chapters/67649222
2 WMAK, Ch. 30: /works/10838010/chapters/27022890
3 Ibid., Ch. 3: /works/10838010/chapters/24245811
4 SCOM, Ch. 13: /works/26090521/chapters/77220491
5 Ibid., Ch. 21: /works/26090521/chapters/81717646
6 Ibid.
7 Broken Wings, Ch. 20: /works/20519588/chapters/52937821
8 SCOM, Ch. 12: /works/26090521/chapters/76173143
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