"Till this moment, I never knew myself."
― Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
I moved in and out of consciousness for a while, until I remembered I was alive! Alive and blessedly safe with the Elves. I woke up on a bed, groggy and monstrously thirsty. Someone had cleaned my face, arms, and feet, which were all covered in bandages, and I could smell Elrond's special paste, but otherwise, I felt quite sticky with mud. I realised I was in a small tent that smelled strongly of incense. I quickly found my seashell necklace around my neck. It was still there. It was the only thing I owned that I valued.
There was a jug of water and a glass next to me. Without bothering to sit up properly, I drank straight from the jug, gulping down the delicious clean water.
"Innovative," commented Elrond, with a smile, entering the tent.
"How long have I been unconscious?" I asked, dribbling water down my face.
"Four days."
"Urgh," I said, trying to sit up. Elrond bent over and helped me, and sat on a stool next to me.
"Well, Minnow," said Elrond, kindly. "You have broken three ribs, sprained both wrists and one ankle, pulled several muscles in your back and have a black eye."
"I swallowed a lot of mud, too," I said thickly. My stomach felt strange. "Less palatable than the army's gruel, I found."
"I am glad to see your spirits at least are restored. It will take a month, I believe, for you to recover, and we cannot send you back to the Men's camp, so you will stay with us for now."
I nodded and asked about the whereabouts of the Gondorian army.
"They have gone over the mountain, and have made camp in Calenardhon. I'm afraid the mountain men have betrayed them. They helped the orcs attack," said Elrond.
I snorted, feeling both sad and angry. I knew that ridiculous stone ceremony was stupid.
"When I was unconscious, I had a dream that I threw up on Lord Glorfindel," I said, tentatively.
"That was no dream," said Elrond, delicately.
"Valar above," I said, miserably. I took a big breath in and enquired about my friends. Elrond knew that Thavron still lived, but could not answer for Thalion. The wave had destroyed a huge part of the camp, and those closest to the water had all perished. The Elves had been hugely surprised when Annie and I had climbed out the pit of dead bodies days later.
He let me cry and held me for a while, crooning a lullaby in Quenya as I sobbed.
"You are fortunate in your friends," observed Elrond, after a while. I looked at him and he handed me a handkerchief. "You have saved the life of the king's son."
I pondered over this for a second before realising who he meant.
"Annie? The king's son? The son of the king?" I said, in horror, blowing my nose.
"Yes, Minnow, the king's son is the son of the king," said Elrond with a smile. I wanted to throw up again. "Is something amiss?"
"Oh Elrond, I called him an absolute bastard!" I cried, my head in my hands.
Elrond's laughter was long and merry. He made me eat a little, and I fell back asleep.
I had never been seriously ill before. The monthly nuisance that was my period was the most pain I had ever felt (apart from the grief I felt when my grandmother died), and a few scrapes from throwing myself off cliffs and out of trees as a child. I considered myself a sensitive and patient healer - at least with my patients if not my superiors - but I had never been so frustrated. Elrond had promised me that if I sat tight then he would take me to Annie, better known as Anarion, the king's son, for a visit, but I had to rest to let my ribs recover. And that meant I was confined to my tent with only Elrond for a visitor. For the next few days I woke up intermittently, did a few stretches and walked a few paces before collapsing onto the chair in the corner then waited an hour to recover, covered in cold sweat from the exertion, and then I moved back to the bed. My world had become very small and I had cabin fever, but I had to admit I was exhausted from even the smallest activity.
"Valar above, this is tedious," I muttered to myself, on the third day. I had fallen onto the ground, shakily and rather sweaty and had spent a lot of energy very inelegantly rolling onto the bed.
"Elrond is a terrible patient as well," said Glorfindel with a smirk, standing by the entrance to my tent, arms crossed. "He cannot sit still or be at peace when he needs to recover."
Why did he always see me at my worst, I asked myself, exasperated.
"You have been told to rest, little human."
I cannot tell you how annoyed this infantilising comment made me. I did not consider myself short. In Tolfalas, I was actually considered quite tall. And I was a fully grown adult!
"Greetings, Lord Glorfindel," I said, politely ignoring what he said, and trying to sit up on the bed. "I see the tables are turned and I am now the patient.
He stared at me with his head cocked for a while. I fidgeted. I began to imagine this silence was to last the entire month I was set to be in the Elf camp to recuperate, and at first I was resolved not to break it; till suddenly fancying that it would be the greater punishment to the Elf lord to oblige him to talk, I made a slight observation on the tent.
"It is, indeed, a nice tent," he confirmed.
"Spacious. And quite fragrant."
He assented.
"I like the colour. Green."
There was more silence.
"It is your turn to say something now, my lord. I talked about the tent, and you ought to make some sort of remark on the weather, or ummm warfare," I said, at a loss.
"Are those your two principle areas of interest?" he enquired.
"I cannot profess to be knowledgeable or interested in warfare as a rule, no," I said, slowly. "But I should like to know how my friends get on. And I have not been outside this tent for a week and I miss the wind on my face."
Glorfindel smiled.
"Your army, much like yourself, is recuperating and I believe your Master Healer is very busy tending to the wounded after the mountain men's betrayal. Casualties are high. As for the weather, it has been raining for two days, and a south-westerly wind has been blowing hard, but it is a natural rain, I believe."
I was surprised to hear that there was a strong wind and told him so.
"That is because it is a very nice, Elven-made tent," he told me, smiling.
There was another long, awkward pause.
"It is your turn to pick a subject to converse upon," I said, wearily.
"Are you consulting your own feelings in the present case, or do you imagine that you are gratifying mine?" he asked.
"Both, I would think. In human cultures, if one deigns to visit an invalid, it is considered polite to ask them how they are feeling," I told him.
"Luckily, I need no such information as I have received daily reports from Elrond on your recovery. I believe I know more about your ribs than you do," he told me.
This was disconcerting for a number of reasons.
If Elrond was reporting to Glorfindel, did that make him more senior in the army? I barely understood how the Gondorian army worked - it was hugely hierarchical and complicated. I knew Glorfindel was the general, which seemed hard to imagine as he stood at the edge of the tent rather casually attired in a long thin grey shirt, grey leggings and boots. He wasn't even carrying a weapon. But I knew that Elrond was important too, and not just as a healer, even if I wasn't exactly sure why. I was beginning to form a question when he spoke.
"You are not in the Song." It didn't sound like an accusation, or a question, but it did startle me. He seemed contemplative.
"What song?" I asked, confused.
"The Song that is Sung," he said, solemnly, as if that explained it.
"Am I supposed to be?" I asked. This conversation was getting out of hand.
"Only time will tell. Pray, little human, who are your parents?" he asked.
I swallowed nervously. Not even Thalion or Thavron had asked directly about my parents, and just allowed me to tell them what I was happy and comfortable revealing. Elves, however, were different. Glorfindel in particular seemed a contrary mixture of vague and startlingly direct. In addition to this peculiar line of questioning was the problem that I was sure Elves could tell when you were lying or evading the question. Elrond certainly glared at me every time I pretended I was feeling better than I was. Not that I wanted to lie to Glorfindel about the circumstances of my birth, or about anything, but I couldn't deny that I felt some shame and grief.
"My grandmother brought me up. I never knew my mother; she died in childbirth," I said, slowly. "Her name was Deena. I do not know who my father is or where he is from. She never told anyone before she died."
I had never had to explain it to anyone before. Everyone in Tolfalas had known, and no one had asked since I left.
"Your mother was from Tolfalas?"
"Yes, she was born there, as was my grandmother," I told him. Why on earth was he asking such questions?
"Is that why you have come to the mainland? Why you joined the healers in the Gondorian army? To search for your father?" Glorfindel asked, softly.
I thought of the seashell necklace around my neck.
"I think it more likely he is at sea, my lord," I said, wryly. "I would like to meet him, but I do not know anything about him or if he is still alive. I was very angry with him when I was younger," I confessed, surprising myself. I had not shared that with anyone. "For my sake, and for my mother's. She died so young… and it was not easy growing up without a mother or father."
"He did not return to the island?"
"Men care about heirs, but less about the illegitimate daughters," I said, with a shrug. "Perhaps it did not occur to him to look for her again."
"All children are a Gift, and must be cherished," said Glorfindel, fervently.
"Do you have children, my lord?" I asked, curiously.
He started, staring at me, then quickly recovered. "No, I have not yet had that pleasure."
I blushed. This was undoubtedly another faux pas, one of my many blunders in front of him. I remembered that Healer Rin had told me that Glorfindel was considered an eligible bachelor among his people. How could I have possibly forgotten that?
There was another long pause.
"I must return to my duties, but I will come and visit again. In the meantime, you may think of more adjectives to describe this tent, as no doubt that will amuse you greatly, and I will wait with no small anticipation," he said, smiling at me.
He exited the tent with a small bow, and it suddenly occurred to me that I had not apologised for throwing up on his boots.
I lay back on the bed and pressed the pillow over my head.
The next day, a new elf entered my tent and bowed. He was blond, tall, handsome and somehow younger looking than Elrond and Glorfindel but I could not tell you how I knew that. It was something to do with his eyes and his aura, but also how curiously he looked at me.
"Greetings, human girl. I am to take you to Prince Anarion. My name is Lindir," he said, with a smile.
"Please call me Minnow, Lord Lindir," I said, getting up.
"I am not a lord, Human Minnow!" he said with a laugh, and extended an arm to me. Leaning heavily on him, he walked me slowly through the camp in the mountains, uneven steps. I was surprised to see that it was busy outside the tent, elves in full armour milling around, talking quickly and softly in Sindarin. They looked at me curiously, but carried on with their activities. It was not unlike the Men's camp, I thought, but a lot cleaner.
Lindir was a talker.
"And when will you become an adult? I have never met a human girl before but I have met and fought side by side with several men before."
"I am an adult!" I said, a little defensively, watching my step.
"Are you sure? You are very short, even for your kind," he said. I was explaining I was exactly the height I meant to be when we entered another tent.
On a bed, reading a book of Sindarin poetry that I would dearly like to get my hands on, was the youngest son of Elendil.
"Prince Anarion," I said with a small curtsey.
"Mistress Healer, I would get up…" he gestured to his broken leg, which was laid out straight and bandaged heavily.
"I will return in an hour, Human Minnow, to return you to your own tent. Lord Elrond has told me Gondorian etiquette requires ladies to be chaperoned at all times, but we have deemed Prince Anarion to be a low level threat."
"Thank you," said Prince Anarion, smiling.
Lindir bowed and bolted away.
"He seems to be under the impression that I am a child," I said, sitting gingerly down on the chair next to the bed. "I suppose I've had worse nicknames. How goes your recovery, my lord?"
Elrond had been busy. A break as bad as the one Anarion had suffered would usually mean the end of a soldier's career, but Elvish healing and Elrond's skill meant that he would be able to run in six weeks. Six weeks! I was fascinated, and we spoke formally, and a little awkwardly, about the half-elven healer's skills. I desperately wanted to know how I could implement them in the Gondorian army - if we could heal breaks in a matter of weeks it could mean a great deal to the war. I resolved to ask Elrond.
Presently, Anarion told me that he had not wanted to reveal that he was Elendil's son in case the orcs overheard and he was captured and used as a bargaining tool, and tortured for information. That was the reason why he told me his name was Annie.
"I would prefer death," he said, quite nonchalantly at the prospect of being tortured by the Enemy. "My nickname is Annie, and as I owe you my life I would be pleased if you would call me that."
"We did it together, Annie, as you well remember. I, for one, would prefer it if you didn't call me Human Minnow," I said, and he laughed. I knew then we would be friends, even if it was the sort of friendship I had with Lind, another friend above my station. Elrond was right, I was fortunate with my friends. A small part of me hoped that I could have a good friend that saw me as an equal. With a pang, I thought of Thalion.
I was not going to cry in front of a prince of Gondor, I told myself sternly.
"I hope Lindir will bring me to you again, for I'm feeling much better and I'm quite bored. I haven't had any visitors, apart from Lord Glorfindel," I said. It would be a bit rude to say it was nice to speak to a human - I was sure the Elves were listening - but I hoped Annie discerned my meaning. But instead, he seemed surprised that Glorfindel had visited me (especially after I had thrown up on his boots).
"How do you know the Balrog Slayer?" asked Annie, astonished. I told him the story of how we had retrieved the errant pieces of an orcish blade from Glorfindel's wound with a borrowed lodestone, boasting a little less than usual. I could tell that Annie was surprised, but then, he had probably not met many female healers before.
"You healed an elf?" he asked, amazed. "And a lordly one at that! I have met Lord Glorfindel a few times with my father. He is a most accomplished soldier, and known as much for his valiance as his merriness, and for having a light heart. That is perhaps unusual for men who are made grim by great acts, but great Elvish warriors contain multitudes."
"He glows," I said. "Which must be useful in the dark."
"He is a legend," said Annie, reverently.
"He's just a person," I said, wondering if we were good enough friends yet for him to lend me his copy of Sindarin poetry, but I supposed it must belong to an elf.
"I have met King Elendil and Prince Isildur," I told him. I thought, but wasn't sure, that he tensed. "King Elendil was kind enough to grant me a small audience after I helped heal Lord Glorfindel, and presented me with a purse of coin for my trouble."
"My father is keen to build a lasting alliance with the elves, and is particularly close to the High King Gil-galad," Annie said, neutrally.
This was not a topic of conversation I wanted to go down. I tried to think of something to say.
Annie's nose had healed and lost his puffiness, but was still slightly crooked. It made him look less like his brother and his father who had strikingly symmetrical features. He also had almost two week's worth of stubble, and his hair was light brown.
"I would not have thought you related," I mused, completely forgetting I was talking to a prince.
"Is it the beard? I was born on the island, but I am one of the few Numeanorians who can grow facial hair although it is only in the last year it has revealed itself to me.
"Perhaps, it's more that you seem more… ordinary," I said, without thinking.
"You think I look ordinary?" he said, stunned.
"No, no! I mean, you look like a man," I said, rather stupidly.
"I am a man, Minnow," he said with a smile. For some reason, this made me blush.
"Yes, but you're different… somehow," I said, weakly, failing to reconcile his brother and father's cruel nobility with Annie's friendly face.
"I am not as handsome as my brother," said Annie, matter of factly.
"That's not what I meant!" I said, blushing. Indeed, I had just noticed that there was a little chest hair peeking out of his grey shirt and for some reason, this made me feel nervous. "I mean, I have no opinion. I have formed no opinion on anyone's attractiveness. Ever. I am still very sick and I don't know what I'm saying."
"It sounds like you know what you're saying," said Annie, with a rather lopsided smile.
"I do not," I said, fervently. Time to change the subject. I asked him if he had received many visitors.
"A few, many who have met my father. Lord Glorfindel came to speak with me as well. He has taken me to task for my actions, or rather, my inaction. He was unimpressed that it was you who pulled me out the pile of the dead. You who pulled me through the mud. You who called for aid from the Elves. He thinks I lack the basic principles of honour, and I should not be a captain of a company."
"You don't seem to mind his censure," I said, confused. Annie was remarkably complacent, I thought. Perhaps Elrond had overdosed him on painkillers, I mused.
"I am accustomed to important people being unimpressed with me," he said, with a shrug. I decided to ponder on that later. "What did he speak that was not true?"
"I think Lord Glorfindel underestimates me," I said, tactfully. "I have more agency than most people believe."
Annie looked at me thoughtfully. "I underestimated you, too, but I will not make that mistake again. However, I no longer have a company, for they all perished in either the attack, or the great wave. I alone survive and I must bear that burden. I succumbed to despair, when I should have been looking for survivors. I will not succumb to despair again."
"That is not your fault," I said, emotionally. "I have lost a friend, and despair comes for us all."
"Neither I nor my family will forget what you have done for me," he said, suddenly, and rather seriously. This felt ominous. I would have preferred to escape the interest of Elendil, but I nodded and smiled, trying to convey that I understood and no more needed to be said about it.
"Glorfindel did not speak to me about our escape," I said, almost to myself.
Annie was curious as to what the great warrior elf had talked to me about.
"He asked me about my parents… and we spoke a little about tents," I said, a bit pathetically. I didn't mention what the elf had said about songs, as I didn't understand it. "I forgot to apologise for throwing up on his boots."
Annie laughed, and we moved onto pleasanter subjects until Lindir returned. Over the next week, Lindir accompanied me to Annie's tent, until I could manage the walk by myself.
We discovered that we were close in age, but that meant very different things for a man than a woman of our backgrounds. I should have been married at twenty-five, and he was just beginning to come into his strength as a soldier at thirty-two - especially as a Numenorian. While we spoke every day, and he read out poetry from his book, it was more the things he omitted that resonated with me. I gathered he was not close with Elendil and Isildur. He was so unlike his father and brother in personality as well as looks. He was quite mild mannered, and self-deprecating, if quite formal. He told me that he had spent his youth in Arnor, not the south of Gondor in the big cities, and liked the cold and wet of the north. He preferred being with his soldiers to being in a court, and he told me his dearest dream was to see a dragon and a talking tree.
I think he was teasing me about the talking tree.
He told me about his sister, Elwen, who he was close to, and I told him about Lind, who was as close to a sister as either of us would get. They were both in Minas Tirith, so we imagined that they would already be acquainted with each other, and even friends.
"Elwen and I did not come of age on Numenor, we were children when the wave came," he said. "It is said that is why we are different."
There was clearly a lot more meaning to that than I understood, but I thought it best not to ask. Ignorance was bliss, I told myself.
"Is that why you have a beard?" I asked.
He assented.
"Does Princess Elwen have a beard, too?" I asked, cheekily.
Annie laughed so loudly that Lindir rushed into the tent, confirming my suspicion he was keeping a close eye on us, demanding to know what all the noise was about. Annie explained, but Lindir didn't really understand.
"The Eldar find those who grow beards on their face to be suspicious," he told us, solemnly, which set Annie and I off again. I hadn't laughed so hard since Thavron had danced with the Elves. It hurt my ribs a little but it was worth it.
Halfway into my month's sojourn at the Elvish camp, I had recovered enough to be given a bucket full of hot water, and a sponge. I almost cried with relief, which disconcerted the poor elf who had carried the bucket to my tent.
Elrond gave me more shampoo and hair oil, which I lovingly massaged into my scalp and through my rapidly drying hair, after I gave myself a sponge bath, and wrapped myself in the drying sheet. This hair oil smelled of spring. Humming to myself, I let the scent wash over me as I closed my eyes, as I combed my hair with my fingers. With a start, I realised someone was watching me. I turned around and saw Glorfindel staring at me.
I had never blushed so much in my life.
I did not know what to say, and he did not move. I could see that he was blushing too.
He turned on his heel and walked swiftly away.
I did not mention this to Elrond or Annie. But I thought about it often.
A few days later, I casually observed that Elves and Numeanorians wore their hair very long, and in elaborate styles for war - except for Annie who wore his hair as short as most Gondorians. Privately, I wondered if this was an act of rebellion, and out loud, I wondered at how the Elves kept their hair so tidy. Anarion told me that elves were very particular about their hair.
"Elves would deem your hair unusual," he said.
"My hair?" I was incredulous. My hair was merely unruly, I thought. Some days, I missed my headscarf.
"It's curly," he said, explaining that Numeanorians and Elves had long straight hair, and it was only dwarves, and holbyta - a kind of halfling from the north, that had curly hair - and the people of Tolfalas, of course.
"Great," I said, flatly. No wonder the Elves kept referring to me as short, and childlike, they probably thought I was half-dwarf.
"For the Numenoreans, at least, but I believe the Elves as well, hair is a key part of someone's beauty," he said, carefully.
I had no idea if he meant I was an exotic beauty, or a strange aberration. At any rate, it seemed that I did not fit the Elvish or Numeanorean ideal aesthetic, and I was glad. Hopefully that would keep me safe from Elendil and Isildur.
Glorfindel was probably just embarrassed at walking into my tent while I was wrapped in a sheet, and I decided to forget about it, and not bring up throwing up on his boots because then he would have to apologise for seeing me in a sheet, which suited me fine.
While I felt I was firmly on the mend, Elrond would not allow me to help him with any healing duties.
"I am not going to allow the woman who saved Prince Anarion's life to do any work while she is healing from an ordeal that killed almost a thousand men much stronger than her," he said firmly, when I protested.
"May I accompany you when you go about your healing duties?" I asked. "You know I am capable."
"You and Anarion are my only two patients," he said, softly. That meant that Elves healed much more quickly than humans did, and we were an inconvenience - perhaps even a burden. Elrond must have seen this thought flash across my face, for he told me if I was able, and quiet, I could go watch some training. He pointed me down a path, and told me to follow it.
I had never had the time, or the inclination, to watch the soldiers practice, but this was something special. We were deep into the mountain, where there was a long flat area surrounded by high cliffs. From my vantage point, I had a good view from above of the training ground. There was a company of elves training with their general; their moves were fluid, fast, and balletic. I had not seen any elf in full armour before, and it was a glorious sight.
Glorfindel was not in full armour, and instead was in his usual grey leggings, but his hair was tied back in warrior braids, and blowing behind him in the wind. He did have a weapon on him, though.
Glorfindel's sword looked longer than I was tall.
I wasn't sure exactly what I was watching, but Glorfindel would shout a command, and the company would move as if one. Their movements were smooth, but violent, and I could see that they were much stronger and superior than the Gondorian army. I was glad that they were our allies and I felt fresh hope build within me.
After a while of this, Glorfindel selected a few soldiers and they fought each other, one on one, while he gave them tips and encouragement.
I could not believe that they moved so fast.
I wanted to see Glorfindel fight, but the sun was beginning to set, and I was tired, so I climbed back to my tent, where someone had left some bread and cheese, and fell asleep.
The next day, a few hours after I had returned from Annie's tent where I told him all about the training ground and helped him with his exercises, I had a visitor.
"How is your tent, Mistress Healer?" asked Glorfindel in his low, musical voice.
"Adequate. Clean. Antiseptic." The last one was a guess, but I wouldn't put it past Elrond.
"I believe I saw your little human face at my training yesterday. So, does my training pass muster?"
I had been used to thinking of myself as a patient person, but that was before I had met this gangly, glowing elf.
"I was very bored," I told him.
"You should not be wandering around the mountains by yourself, young sapling," he said, warningly.
"Lord Elrond gave me leave," I told him. It was hard to tell if he was genuinely annoyed with me, and considered me watching his training an intrusion.
"Ah yes, I remember your main passions in life are warfare, the weather, and… tents," he said. His arms were crossed again.
"If there were anything else to occupy my time, I would gladly turn my attention to it," I said, rather bitterly.
"I apologise for boring you with my presence," said Glorfindel, sharply.
"You know perfectly well that was not what I meant!" I snapped. I breathed in deeply, and looked down. What was I thinking? Yelling at the general of the Elvish army? This was most unlike me. "I apologise wholeheartedly for my outburst, I did not wish to cause offence."
"You do not offend me," he said, cheerfully. I looked up at him. He did seem rather lively considering a lowly mortal had just lost her temper with him. I assumed his casual retort was meant to illustrate I was of no consequence to him.
"Do you know when Prince Anarion and I may be able to leave?" I asked. Elrond had previously ignored me when I had asked, telling me to concentrate on resting.
"You wish to return to your army? You are safer here."
"I do not wish to be safe, I wish to be useful," I said, annoyed. Why couldn't he just answer questions like a normal person?!
"We can not let you return to your army yet. The way is too dangerous and you would surely die unaccompanied, and you are not important enough to accompany. You must wait for Elrond's nephew to be able to walk, and you may join the escort Elendil sends. Then and only then, will you be able to indulge in your penchant for admiring tents anew."
I felt like he had slapped me, although I saw the wisdom in his words. I paused.
"What? Elrond's nephew? Annie?" I asked, confused.
"Although, I believe that the Men's army have lost most of their tents in the wave, so perhaps this tent may be your last for some time. I hope you cherish its adequacy and antiseptic properties while you can," he continued, as if I had not spoken.
"Anarion is Elrond's nephew?" I said.
"Does that surprise you? Do all mortals treat knowledge that is widely available as if it were new and controversial information? The kings of Numenor are descended from Elros, Elrond's twin brother who forsake immortal life to live among Men. Elrond will not let Anarion put himself in any danger - they are kin," explained Glorfindel, severely.
"Oh," I said, trying to take it in. Elrond living and fighting side by side with his twin's mortal descendants? I felt a bit dazed.
"'Oh' indeed. I see you have understood the complexities of immortality and expressed yourself with your usual elegance and grace," he said, tersely.
I had no idea why he was acting so angrily. Perhaps an elf, even a half-elf, giving up his immortality was still a sensitive subject thousands of years later. Or perhaps he thought I was ungrateful for wanting to leave.
"You can tell you are a great lord," I said, angrily, keeping back my tears.
"Indeed?" he said, archly.
"Indeed. For my people I am considered educated, but I lacked resources and had other responsibilities that took up my time. Unlike you, I have not had a hundred or a thousand years to read books about things that happened in the past that have nothing to do with me. No one in Tolfalas is afforded an education worthy of an elf, only my generation can even read Westron, and we spent most of our time trying to survive, working to live every day since childhood. I am sure the goings on of Elves are very important to courtly Numenorians who do not want for elegance or grace or time or money, but not to weatherbeaten fishermen who will be lucky to reach their eightieth year or the inelegant healer who treats him. What you may consider widely available knowledge, I consider it a privilege to know. And I want to leave not because I wish to put Annie's life in danger or due to boredom, but because most of the Gondorian healers are dead, and I am needed. I know perfectly well that I am unimportant, that has been made very clear to me, but that does not mean I cannot do anything of importance."
I couldn't look up, but felt a solitary tear drip down my cheek.
"I see I have outstayed my welcome, I bid you goodnight," he said, and swiftly left.
I cried myself to sleep that night, not entirely sure why I cared about what Glorfindel thought of me. He was so strange and mercurial, I couldn't understand him at all. My homesickness felt like a stabbing pain. I dreamt of the sea, of home, of my grandmother, of Tolfalas, of a thousand silver seashells and of my mother, who I had never seen.
I woke up more miserable than I have ever been. Why could I not be the meek and polite healer that was required? I was given so many opportunities and had met so many important people and I couldn't even manage to be respectful to my betters.
I really wanted Thavron to scold me and then hug me. But he was not here.
In the last month I had spent in the camp, I had only gone from my tent to Annie's tent, and was shy around the other elves. But I couldn't see Lindir, so I would have to approach a new elf.
"Please sir, where is Lord Glorfindel's tent?" I asked an elf I had seen many times, who was sitting on a rock outside a small tent, reading a Sindarin book on trees, and eating an apple with a knife. He looked at ease in this strange world.
"You are sleeping in it," he said, after contemplating me for a full minute.
I had never known such horror. I was sleeping in Lord Glorfindel's tent? The Balrog Slayer had given up his tent for me?! And I had called it adequate. Adequate!
"Valar above," I muttered. I rallied. "Do you know where Lord Glorfindel can be found?"
He chewed another piece of apple. "Yes," he said, at length. There was a pause.
"Please tell me," I asked, begging the Valar for patience.
He popped the past piece of apple in his mouth and chewed slowly. I resisted putting my hands on my hips and snapping at him, but at long last, he pointed to the right of him. I thanked him, sighing internally, and wandered aimlessly through the green tents.
I felt like I was trespassing. I rarely walked among the men's tents alone, even in daylight, unless on a particular mission of Thavron's, and I was acutely aware of how small and how dissimilar I was to the Elves. Luckily, I found Glorfindel surrounded by other Elves, deep in a discussion about Men's warfare tactics after half an hour. I hovered awkwardly for a few minutes, not wishing to interrupt them.
"I think that creature wishes to speak with you, Glor," said an elf with long dark hair. The elf in question turned around and looked at me.
A fleeting look of uncertainty crossed Glorfindel's face. He nodded and led me away from his friends (Glor!) around a corner for some privacy. I took a big breath in. I was very nervous and sweaty.
"I would like to apologise for my outburst, my lord. Again. I have no right to speak to you like that," I said, stiffly.
"You are wrong, it is I who have no right to lecture and criticise you, little human," he said, softly.
"No, I never know my place!" I told him, my lip wobbling. "I'm not half as clever as I think I am, and I understand less and less, and I'm out of my depth, and I should not be so rude or ungrateful!"
It was a terrible apology, I thought, but it was the best I could do.
"I cannot fault you in the attention you pay to your duty," he said, softly. "It is clear you feel it keenly. You remind me of a young Elrond in both your skill and your stubbornness."
This was too much - to be compared to my hero when I was supposed to be apologising to someone I was unforgivably rude to. I burst into tears.
"I have made you cry again, Minnow, I am sorry-"
"No, no I am overwhelmed, that is a… that is a big compliment. I admire him greatly. He's so kind and he's a great healer… and he has really nice hair."
Glorfindel laughed softly. It sounded like bells.
"Elves do not understand the second-born as well as we pretend," he said, softly.
I sniffed. "I am sure Elrond's twin brother is a sensitive subject."
"Elrond bears it well, and loves his kin," Glorfindel said. But that was not exactly what I meant.
"Still it must be strange for you to witness. I will endeavour to be more tactful."
"As you have saved Anarion's life, and made him laugh when he was disposed to despair, I think you will always have Elrond's gratitude."
"I wish he would tell me how to heal like him," I grumbled.
"Elrond is not your ordinary half-elf, young sapling," said Glorfindel with a smile. "His heritage is unique, and he has magic in his blood."
This was certainly new and startling information. Had he used magic on me?
"Thank you for letting me sleep in your tent," I said, after a while. "I did not know… that was very kind of you."
"I know you did not know, as I told no one to tell you," he said, with a smile. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. He told me that he was going to walk me back to my tent, and we did so in silence.
We soon approached the tent, and he stood in front of it, and looked like he was debating something. Finally, he put his hand on my shoulder, completely unnerving me, and looked deep into my eyes.
"I do not think you are unimportant. And it takes time to discover one's place in the world." With a short bow, he disappeared.
It was quite a sweet thing to say. I had a lot to think about, I realised. Despite being told I reminded Glorfindel of a young Elrond, and that I wasn't unimportant, my spirits were a little lower since my fight with the Balrog Slayer. Luckily, Annie was now up and about, and keen to improve his fitness after resting for so long. I followed him on walks around the camp, and he told me that in a few days, he was going to practice his sword fighting with the Elves.
I understood that he meant to fight in the upcoming battle. I had never seen someone so determined. Whenever I entered his tent, he was always doing press ups or sit ups, counting in Sindarin. I had assumed his patience, and ease at resting for a long period meant he was not keen to rejoin, or did not think he was able to rejoin the army in his captaincy. But now I realised that Annie understood exactly what needed to be done, and exactly how far his body could be pushed.
It occurred to me that I didn't understand people at all. I watched Glorfindel put him through his paces, advising him of his footwork and how to strengthen his newly healed leg muscles.
Annie was shorter than his giant brother and father, but he was still hugely tall - the same height as Glorfindel, if a little broader. He had Glorfindel's quickness, and lightness of feet, as well as his strength. But he didn't have Glorfindel's stamina. Who knew if the elf could ever get tired, I wondered. It amazed me that I had pulled Annie half a league through mud! He had been heavy, I remembered, and I had sprained my wrists and pulled several muscles in the endeavour.
I felt useless, but Elrond refused to answer any questions on magic healing.
"I was hoping to learn something useful that I might use on the soldiers," I told him.
"Infection is your biggest enemy," he told me, which I already knew, having endured many lectures by Thavron. "Elves heal faster than humans do, and are impervious to most infections."
"Is it cell regeneration?" I asked, but he shooed me away.
I returned to my tent to sulk. Surely there was something in Elvish healing that I could learn to help my friends?
"Contemplating the work of the spiders on the celing? A fascinating study, I am sure," asked a familiar voice. I sat up. Glorfindel had entered the tent, his arms crossed at the entrance.
"Why do you always stand there like that?" I asked, flatly but without malice.
"Your terrible Tolfalas manners. I await a formal invitation to enter," he said.
"Please feel free to enter the tent and make yourself comfortable on your own chair," I said. Glorfindel made a big show of sitting down on the chair in the corner, pressing his hand to his chest and sighing. I smiled at him.
"I have it on good authority that your escort will be here tomorrow," he told me.
"Whose authority?" I asked, surprised that what I had wanted for so long had come about so soon.
"Mine."
So I was leaving to go to the Gondorian camp. I suddenly felt very nervous about what I would find there.
"We are going to war with the Enemy soon," I said, thinking about Annie.
"Indeed we are, little sapling," he said. "But do not worry, for we have prepared well, and Elendil will not put you in any danger."
I saw no point in telling Glorfindel that I intended to be out on the frontline or wherever Thavron thought I would be of most use. I wish I had learnt something about Elvish healing that would aid me in my healing duties.
"I never asked… has your wound healed well?" I asked.
"Why wouldn't it?"
I admit I was at a loss to answer that.
"Can I see?" I asked. Glorfindel raised an eyebrow at me. Perhaps this was an unusual request.
"I would like to see how Elves produce scar tissue," I said. He gave me an odd look, and untied his shirt and pulled it open to show his shoulder.
"There's not even a scar!" I exclaimed. "What a disappointment," I muttered.
"No female has ever told me that I was a disappointment," said Glorfindel in a highly amused voice. I looked into his silver eyes.
"Maybe not to your face," I said, teasingly. Glorfindel laughed at me. I wondered if I was right in thinking the tips of his ears (which I struggled not to stare at) had gone pink.
"I see your commitment to tact did not last long." He tied his shirt back up and told me he was going to tell Annie the news about the escort, which surprised me. I had assumed Annie already knew - that he would tell him first.
Elrond came to check my ribs for the last time the next morning.
"Breathe in. Hold it. Lord Glorfindel has been spending a lot of time with you," he said, noncommittally. I shrugged. "His merry nature has led many ladies to form expectations. Breathe out."
This was a fairly extraordinary statement, I thought, looking up at Elrond, curiously. First of all, Glorfindel did not strike me as particularly merry. Mercurial, yes. Sharp and ironic, definitely. Witty and secretively kind, obviously. But merry suggested he was cheerful and lively, whereas I thought he was solemn and a little melancholy. However, perhaps he was merry for an elf. I imagined that if I lived that long, I would surely go mad.
"He is the mightiest of the highborn elves," Elrond continued. "And handsome beyond compare."
"All Elves are handsome, are they not?" I asked. "But there are qualities more important than looks." I thought of Isildur and Berendine. I hoped I would see her and Joy soon, and hold Joy in my arms. I missed her little face. I hoped that Isildur had kept them safe, but I did not feel confident.
"He is an elf of the highest quality," said Elrond, looking into my face, keenly. For a second I thought I heard a sliver of jealousy, but I did not think it was for me. Elrond was a bit mysterious, I decided.
But I was a little confused - did he think I had set my cap on an elf that glowed in the dark?! Surely if I was the sort of woman who could think of romance while her ribs hurt every time she moved, then I would have thought of Annie. He was out of my reach too, but at least the same species.
I was too pragmatic to pine after someone who would never even think of me. And Glorfindel and I could barely get through a conversation without mocking each other.
Then I remembered that Elrond was part-human. The only ones I could remember from my studies were Luthien and Beren, but perhaps star-crossed Elf and human lovers were slightly more common than I had been led to believe. Perhaps he was more inclined to see romance between elves and men.
"Is it a truth universally acknowledged that a woman in possession of a romantic or lively spirit must be in want of a husband?" I asked Elrond, teasingly.
"Do you often ask men to take off their shirts?" Elrond countered, pointedly. I could not believe Glorfindel had told him about that.
"Yes," I said, as if it were obvious. Elrond raised both his eyebrows at me. "May I remind you I am a healer in the Gondorian army, my lord? I have taken off many items of clothing, all for medicinal purposes."
"Laugh at me as you will, Minnow, but think upon my words," he said.
"Honestly, she is as silly as he is," he muttered to himself in Sindarin, as he left my tent. I supposed that meant Glorfindel, but I thought his line of questioning was silly, not my answers.
I strode into Annie's tent, keen to tell him the amusing and ridiculous conversation I had with Elrond, when I realised my mistake. Prince Isildur was sitting talking with Annie in Sindarin. I stuttered then quickly curtseyed.
"I did not expect to see you again so soon, Mistress Healer," said Isildur, looking intently at me. "I must thank you for saving my errant brother."
"We saved each other, my lord," I said, softly. "I would not be here without him."
"She is far prettier than I remember," said Isildur to Annie in Sindarin. "It is her hair that makes all the difference. The black curls remind me of the sea at night."
I fervently wished Thavron were here to protect me.
"We leave in a few hours, can you be ready?" asked Isildur. I nodded too scared to talk. "Go tell Lord Elrond that we are ready to leave, Anarion."
My heart dropped as Annie left the tent, leaving me alone with his older brother. I found my mouth had gone dry. I raised my eyes to look at the prince, and saw Isildur gazed at me appreciatively and I turned my face away in horror.
"Come here, woman," he said. I was about to dash out of the tent when he pulled me into his lap with a vice-like grip.
"No," I said, weakly, pulling away from him, but to no avail. He completely dwarved me. "Please, no!"
"What reason can you give me not to pay you attention?" he purred, kissing my inner wrist. I was panicking. Isildur was used to women fawning over him and was not even listening to me.
"Please let me go," I begged.
"Isildur!" said Annie, entering the tent again. "Let her go!"
"What interest can a little Tolfalas slattern have for you, Anarion?" asked Isildur with disdain, as he pulled me closer to him.
"Annie," I mouthed, helplessly. Tears were silently streaming down my face.
"Minnow is mine," he said, haltingly.
"Yours?" said Isildur, disbelievingly, stopping what he was doing. "You have already made her yours, have you?"
Annie nodded. I noticed, with horror, that he had his hand on his sword.
Isildur lifted me up by my wrist until my feet dangled off the floor and then dropped me. I must have looked like a rag doll.
"I do not want your leftovers," he said. "We leave in an hour." He strode out the tent.
I covered my face with my hands and thanked the Valar for my lucky escape. "And thank you, dearest Annie," I said, standing up and embracing him.
"I should not have left you alone, I didn't think he would… not in an Elven camp… not near Lord Elrond… I am not like him, Minnow. I am not, I promise you," he said, stiffly. I realised with surprise he was crying, too. "He will not touch you now, I promise. I am sorry to dishonour your reputation by insinuating…"
"I am happy to be safe," I told him. We carried on reassuring each other for a few minutes, and he made me drink some water, and after I wiped the tears from my face I was feeling almost cheerful.
I ran back to my tent and almost crashed into Glorfindel. He started to tell me he had come to say farewell, and would accompany our Gondorian escort down the mountain when my blotchy face made him pause.
"Who has done this to you?" he hissed, holding my wrist delicately. Large bruises had appeared in the form of a handprint. Indeed, Isildur had almost sprained my wrist again.
"No one!" I said, pulling down my sleeve.
"Minnow," he said, warningly.
"I beg of you! This is not something for you to pursue. I know how to protect myself. I know I am small, obscure… not a warrior like you, but have I not surprised you? I have resources to draw on. Please let me protect myself in my own way."
He looked at me for an uncomfortably long time, and I thought I could see how young and old he was at the same time. It was strange to behold. I knew he was older than Elrond, but how old was he, I wondered? He must have seen me as a child.
"I trust your wisdom, Minnow," he said, softly. "I am unaccustomed to seeing young women on the battlefield, and have lost my manners, not for the first time with you. I am worried for you. It is not usual for men to have women in their armies. You are young and vulnerable."
"I helped save you!" I said, rather petulantly. "And I saved Anarion."
"You are clever, I will grant you that. But you should be at home," he said softly. "Innocents have no place in war."
There was a beat, and I realised that my eyes were filling with tears again. This was a most stressful morning, I thought.
"I don't have a home," I told him, my lip wobbling.
"Nor do I," he said, surprising me.
There was a long pause.
"Elrond wishes to speak to you. Will you accompany me?" He led me through the tents to Elrond's, where he was rolling up a scroll. Elrond looked between the two of us, and Glorfindel led me to the table and drew out my wrist, and pulled back the sleeve.
Elrond said nothing, but took out one of his pastes and lightly spread it over the bruises. He looked at me, his big eyes sad and empathetic, and wiped off the paste slowly.
Did Elrond know what kind of a man Isildur was? He must do, I thought, and how must he feel about his twin brother's descendants being so… monstrous. It was something I felt was too terrible to even think - I had felt it as soon as I had met them for the first time. Isildur and Elendil were monsters.
I looked down at my wrist. The bruises were gone! The pain was gone. Elrond had used his healing magic on me.
Glorfindel sat silently beside me.
"I will never forget your kindness. Either of you," I said, looking between the two of them. They looked at each other, and for a moment I wondered if they could communicate without words.
Glorfindel slid a beautiful silver dagger over the table towards me. "This is Nimlothin. Do not hesitate to use it. It will not fail you."
I nodded and whispered my thanks.
It was a long trek down the mountain, even with Glorfindel appearing at my side every so often and grabbing my elbow whenever I stumbled. He did not speak to me, but when we reached the bottom of the mountain, I turned and looked back at him. I have never felt the desire to run to someone as strongly as I did then.