Seldom, very seldom, does complete truth belong to any human disclosure;
seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised, or a little mistaken
― Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

Dear Lind,

Dearest friend,

Hwaet,

My dearest friend Lady Lind,

I wish you were here so I could talk to you about my many sexually confusing thoughts

Lind,

A single sheet of parchment cannot contain the sights I have seen, the horrors I have faced, and the friends I have made, but rest assured, dear friend, I am whole if irreversibly changed. I have reasonable hope that I will outlive this wretched war, and unwavering faith that our armies will defeat the Enemy within the year. I hope to be reunited with you in Minas Tirith, and learn how you have occupied yourself.

I have become acquainted with all the main players in the war, and I hope you will understand if I entreat you to act towards them with great care if you ever cross paths with them. Great Men often need a great deal of care.

The most pressing change is that our most noble High King has honoured me with a title for services rendered; I am now Lady of Cardolan, mistress of a small estate in the north, between Lindon and Arnor, I believe. After our last march towards the Enemy, I hope to embrace you once again, dearest friend, and until then I pray for your safety, as well as the safety of everyone from our beloved island.

Minnow

I had never really imagined I would meet my father. Sometimes when I was a child, I felt such a loss at having no parents that I could hardly breathe, but I always had my grandmother. Old as she was, she would take me into the forest to play, and it was she who showed me the small cave behind the waterfall. She taught me to swim as fast as a minnow in the coves on the far side of the island, and how to run across the rockpools without falling in. Together we pressed flowers and herbs, drying them and grinding them up, making poseys and tinctures for the villagers. When I was fourteen, she taught me how to thread a needle and sew up a deep wound, and take out the stitches weeks later, how to set a broken arm, and how to soothe a sea anemone sting. The knowledge and skill made me feel strong and capable, sometimes more so than the ability to read. I will always be eternally grateful to her for giving me this gift.

All in all I never needed a father because my grandmother was everything to me.

But it was a niggling question: who exactly was he? Elrond had said that my blood wasn't entirely human, but I didn't see any evidence to the contrary. I couldn't imagine that there was any Elvish blood running through my veins. My ears were far too round, my height lacking, and I had none of their Elvish magic: I was quite ordinary compared to our Numenorean counterparts. If there was any blood that didn't belong to the Edain in my veins, I was sure it was only a few droplets.

I wasn't sure I cared. I was happy to be from Tolfalas, I was happy to be Minnow, I was happy to be Mistress Healer. I was reconciled to being Minnow, Lady of Cardolan. I wasn't ready for another new identity.

And I wasn't sure I wanted a father, especially after seeing Elendil's stellar parenting skills. A father might have expectations for me. He might try to curb my independence. He might try to control me. I wanted to avoid that at all costs.

"Lady Minnow," said Annie, bowing. His deference almost made me flinch, but I caught it in time and curtseyed to him. "Is that your letter for your friend, Lady Lind?" he asked. I had just finished my duties for the day and was stretching my legs on a walk through the camp, lost in a daydream.

"Indeed, my lord. It was most kind of Princess Elwen to agree to carry it to Minas Tirith for me," I said.

On the contrary, Elwen had been surprised that I had any friends at court, and told me that Lind was probably hugely embarrassed by the acquaintance. It would have been insulting, but her response made me wonder; did Elwen and Annie have any real friends? I couldn't imagine that they did and that made me pity them.

"I hope you have written it with the knowledge that it will be read," he said, with meaning. I had assumed so. As much as I wanted to tell Lind about my escapades and my new friends in detail (and warn her about others), I knew that the letter was likely to go through many hands before hers. There was no privacy in a war.

Annie took the letter and stashed it in his tunic, telling me that Elwen would make sure Lind received it when she left for Minas Tirith the next day. Over the last two weeks, I had endured her company on many occasions, and listened to her harp playing with enjoyment. She was a most accomplished musician, in my limited understanding of music. I enjoyed music, but I played no instrument.

Glorfindel, to my eternal embarrassment, had not sung again. I hoped it wasn't because I had made a spectacle of myself.

"I am glad you have met my sister, I hope you will be great friends in the coming years," he said, as we walked together.

I couldn't really imagine that happening, but I made a positive sounding noise. Someone called for him in the distance, and he turned and bowed quickly to me.

"Duty calls!" he said, with a smile, and dashed off. Annie was the sort of person who liked being busy and needed, I realised with a smile, watching his receding back. I could understand that, I thought, as I made my way to the edge of the camp where I saw a copse of trees. I liked to be busy too, but only when I was needed. I liked to rest and spend time with my own thoughts, too. For the last few weeks, I had barely had time to breathe, and I had a lot to think about.

But when I made my way into the little copse of trees, I found I wasn't alone. Of all people, Glorfindel was sitting on the ground in a state of déshabillé, his hair mussed, his tunic dirty and his boots scuffed. I realised with shock that he was crying.

"My lord," I said, uncertainly. It felt like I was intruding, but he made no move as I entered although he must have seen me. "Are you well? May I be of some assistance? May I fetch someone?"

There was a large pause where I wondered if there was something seriously wrong with him. I was about to panic and run for Elrond when he finally spoke.

"My friend is dying," said Glorfindel, his eyes glazed.

I had never been to the healer's tents in the Elvish camp, but we had heavy casualties from the last battle, and only now had the men started to recover from their injuries. I knew nothing of the death toll of the Elves, or the injuries they faced. They always appeared indestructible to me.

I sat down on the ground next to him.

"What's his name?" I asked, gently.

"Lalathien. He is the son of a very dear friend of mine, a lord of Gondolin," he said.

I repeated his friend's name, softly.

"How do you bear it?" he asked, hoarsely, turning to me. His red-rimmed eyes were full of tears. He didn't have to explain what he meant, but it was hard to explain what I thought about death.

"I suppose because it's an inevitability for us," I said, slowly. "I've seen a lot of death over the last few months… I've lost a good friend, too. He was young. Younger than me."

"He would have to be if you thought him young. I am sorry, Minnow, a life snuffed out before it has time to cast its full light is a tragedy. You must think us greedy, with our long lives, to take death so hard."

I told him I disagreed with him, and that greed was not something I associated with his kind.

"We can be very greedy," said Glorfindel, thoughtfully. "It never ends well."

"I didn't think any ill was beyond Elrond's skill," I mused.

Glorfindel snorted, rather surprisingly. "If that were true, Mistress Healer, then I would not have made your acquaintance."

He smiled down at me.

"Elrond has healed his body. Lalathien has lost both his legs and he cannot find it in him to continue."

I didn't quite follow.

"Sepsis? Or has he gone into shock?" I asked, confused. Glorfindel shook his head.

"He is fading."

I'd heard of people dying of broken hearts, but only knew a little about Elves fading because their spirits had left them. I didn't really understand; my will to live was so strong and fierce I couldn't fully comprehend it myself. But I had seen the anguish on people's faces when they lost a loved one before their time, and seen their pain. And I had treated men who had seen such terrors that they did not want to carry on.

I desperately wanted to ask where Elves go once they faded, because as I understood it, the souls of Elves and the souls of Men did not go to the same place, but it felt like an insensitive question.

"We respect his wishes, of course, but… he is one of the Exiled. I have not the heart to explain it to you now, Minnow, but he cannot return to Valinor when he dies. He will not be reborn in the Halls of Mandos, but instead will stay there for eternity."

I didn't really understand, but it felt like Lalathien had only poor options ahead of him.

"Would it be better for him to… stay on Middle Earth for now?" I asked.

Glorfindel said that it would, but a soldier who couldn't walk was not who Lalathien wanted to be.

"I wish we could heal everything," I said, dejected. "It is always the last option, for I think our soldiers are not as hardy as yours, but we have done many amputations recently."

"It is not common among Elves, but there is no shame in it."

We talked a little more about our injured soldiers, and then, Glorfindel asked me if I thought I would be a healer after the war.

I didn't know the answer to that, so I asked him if he had always been a soldier.

"No, I have not always been a soldier, Minnow," he said, sadly. "But in times of need I will always pick up a sword."

"What would you prefer to be doing?" I asked. I was interested in what Elvish lords did - I could barely imagine what human lords did all day when they weren't at war. In my imagination, they spent a lot of time eating roast pork and ordering people around, but that couldn't be right.

"I am fond of astronomy," he said, softly. "I like stargazing and the mathematical element…. I like to build quadrants. I have been trying to collect enough data to measure time more accurately over the last few yen… it would help in seafaring," he said. This was a surprise. Glorfindel was a scholar!

As an islander, I knew a little about seafaring; enough to ask questions until I had him explaining about how he had built a large telescope in his house in Lindon, and his sister (he had a sister!) was continuing his work in his absence. He told me how he left Valinor and walked across a sea of ice for almost three decades to reach Middle Earth.

"Twenty-seven years? Did you get lost?"

"Yes, very," Glorfindel said with a smile.

"I'm not even twenty-seven years old," I exclaimed. "It must have been a hard journey."

"Indeed. Treacherous. My father died on the journey, as did many others. If we had better understood how to navigate by the stars, and measure time, perhaps their lives would not have been lost."

"I am sorry, Glorfindel," I said, morosely. I had wanted to distract him, but it looked like we could never escape the subject of death. It hung over everything.

We had been talking for a long time, and the sun had dipped. He pointed out the emerging stars and told me their names in Elvish, and a little bit of the history behind them. I realised that I felt relaxed for the first time in weeks.

"That one is Elrond's father," he said, pointing to a bright star twinkling away.

"I beg your pardon?" I asked. Was he making fun of me? But he repeated himself with a smile.

"Do you not believe me, Minnow?"

"Valar above," I whispered, wondrous. "Elrond's father is a star?!" It felt like I was living in a fairy tale; here I was sitting next to an elf who had been born in Valinor, pointing out a star that had fathered the high-king's herald and healer.

It brought me back full circle: who was my father?

"If I ask a stupid question, will you laugh at me?" I asked.

"Yes, and at length," he replied. I couldn't help laughing at that, but I was glad of the grin on Glorfindel's face.

"Mermen… are they real?"

"Mermen ? I would have thought now that I have lived almost seven thousand years that nothing could surprise me, but you constantly astonish me," he said, dazedly.

My mouth fell open. "You're how old?" I gasped.

"What is this sudden interest in mermen?" asked Glorfindel. "We are very far from the sea."

"I've been wondering about who my father could be… if Elrond thinks he was not a full man, and as a half-elf, he knows these things…" Glorfindel was looking at me like I was mad.

"You think you're a mermaid?" he asked, trying not to laugh.

"It sounds foolish when you put it like that! I know I'm not a mermaid! But I grew up on an island and I'm very good at swimming…"

"Show me your tail," asked Glorfindel, looking about my person. "Where have you been hiding it?"

I started laughing in earnest. "So not a merman? Well, probably a pirate then. That's what the village folk used to say."

"Why not a piratical merman?" asked Glorfindel, grinning at me. I shoved him with my shoulder.

"I'd like to meet him, but he probably doesn't know I exist. And I didn't think he was a merman-merman, maybe… half-merman. Or quarter-merman. Or a water-nymph?"

Glorfindel smiled at me kindly. "The Valar will reveal it to you when it is time."

"That's such an Elvish thing to say," I grumbled, as Glorfindel started laughing again. "Very poetic, but utterly unhelpful!"

I put the thought of who my father could be out of my head as we prepared to say a blessing for the dead the next morning. Our burial mounds had grown numerous, and Annie and Isildur's grim faces, storming about the camp, made us feel the weight of saying goodbye to our dead.

Annie, Isildur, and Elwen started the song, their beautiful voices ringing across the camp, and the soldiers joined in. I didn't know the song, but I felt it in my heart. So much death, I thought. And Glorfindel's poor friend. I wish I had a way to save him.

But it was still good to say goodbye, for us all to sing (or hum in my case) along, together and then feel the silence afterwards. We had won a battle, and it had cost us greatly, but we would continue to fight with everything we had to protect each other. Maybe this was how we bear it, I thought, thinking of Glorfindel and his friend, by coming together to mark what had happened.

Annie found me in the crowd later and took me to say goodbye to his sister. She had been right; she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen and I admired her symmetrical face, clear grey eyes and long dark hair that was plaited elaborately for the long journey. Her dark red dress had a high colour and she had a dark velvet cloak lined with fur hanging from one shoulder. I thought it was a big shame that there were no princes for her to marry; no wonder she had set her sights on an elf.

The one she had her eye on had arrived to see her off; Glorfindel strode up to her, bowed and told her in Sindarin that a star was born on the hour of their meeting.

Valar, he was courtly to other people. I was almost envious but I would rather have his teasing, I thought. However, Elwen preened at his attention, and I tried not to laugh at her. She turned to me.

"Farewell, Lady Minnow, I am glad that you had the chance to see true, female refinement and elegance," she said. "You have no one to guide you in these things. In the event of your survival, I look forward to receiving you in court."

"You are kindness itself, Princess," I said, trying not to laugh.

"She's exceptionally beautiful," I said to Glorfindel, as we watched Elwen embrace her brothers. Even Isildur looked a little sad to see his sister leave, and Elendil embraced her as well which surprised me. I had not thought they could possibly be a loving family, in any way. But perhaps, I mused, a battlefield brought out the best in them. There was still one big battle to go and success was uncertain. She must be worried she would never see her father or brothers again.

"Indeed," he said.

"I imagine female elves… elf ladies? Elven ladies?" I said, confused as to what to call them.

"Elleth," he corrected, with a smirk.

"I imagine elleths are also exceptionally beautiful." I looked at him to discern whether Elwen had touched his heart. I thought not, but he was very courteous to her.

"Indeed," he repeated.

I rolled my eyes at him. Annie appeared beside me, as Elwen was now safely on her horse and galloping away with her many guards. He told me that he would accompany me back to the healer's tents.

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Minnow," Glorfindel called to me, as Annie and I walked away. I smiled at him.

Later, I was feeding baby Joy a bottle of milk while Berendine slept, exhausted on her cot. She had asked me for the tincture to avoid pregnancy and this had broken the barrier down between us. Clearly enough time had lapsed after her pregnancy that she was now welcome in Isildur's bed again. She needed my help, and I was her friend again, and her healer. But we still hadn't talked about Isildur, or even mentioned him. I wanted to, and wondered if she did, too. But it was a line I had to let her cross, and I endeavoured to show her that she could confide in me. That she could trust me.

And sometimes that meant letting her sleep while I looked after Joy.

"What is it about fathers, Joy?" I asked her, quietly. "Can you say 'mama'?"

"Wah!" she gurgled, and I giggled. Babies were such a source of joy, I thought, that it did all our hearts good to see a child in such a grim environment.

"Berendine," I said, suddenly. "Would you mind if I took Joy for a walk?"

"Yes, yes, yes, whatever," she moaned into her pillow. I smiled.

"We're going to meet some elves!" I told Joy. I told her mother we would be back in a couple of hours, and stepped out of her tent.

I strode across the camp, suddenly popular. The men were all smiles when it came to baby Joy, who gurgled and grinned toothily at them.

"Flirt," I accused her, and she grabbed my hair and pulled at my curls.

The Elves stared at the baby as I walked through their camp, shocked. The human soldiers had seen (and heard) the baby before, and many of them would know who her father was. It was unlikely that the Elves had seen her before, and they stopped what they were doing to stare at Joy.

It was amusing, if a little unnerving. I asked one of them where Elrond's healing tents were, and he merely pointed. I rearranged Joy on my hip and set off again. As I reached a large tent which had an extra Elvish feeling of serenity around it that reminded me of Elrond; it was probably his magic.

Glorfindel appeared in front of me, looking worried.

"I've come to see Lalathien," I told him, but he was staring at Joy. All elves liked children, but he looked shocked.

"Minnow, is that… is that your child?" asked Glorfindel, looking upset. After a momentary flash of annoyance that he would assume I would have a baby out of wedlock (as a midwife as well!), I made a face at him.

"She is not mine, no. Her mother is my friend Berendine," I said. Elrond appeared out of the tents and opened his arms wide in welcome.

"Minnow! And who is this?" he asked, smiling down at Joy. I introduced them, and he shook Joy's hand, as she gurgled at him.

"Glorfindel, you look like you've been slapped with a fish, pull yourself together ," he said in Sindarin, over my shoulder.

"Can I come inside?" I asked. Elrond quirked an eyebrow at me, and ushered me in, while shooing Glorfindel away. I explained my plan to him and he thought about it for a few minutes while I waited. I took the time to look at the cots in the tents, and the patients there. The elves on the cots were sleeping with their eyes closed, which I found disconcerting.

It wasn't completely different to our healer's tents, it just had a stronger smell of herbs and a feeling of calm. Everything - and everyone - was a lot cleaner, and looked very well taken care of.

I sighed. I really tried my best to keep the Men clean, but they were a filthy lot.

"Let us at least try. He will not hurt her, of that I am sure," Elrond said, and I followed him to a section of the tent that was partitioned. He pulled back the cloth partition to reveal an elf with long dark hair, a high forehead covered in sweat, lying on a cot with a blanket over him. His legs had been amputated just above the knee, I saw. His tunic was unbuttoned and some of his chest was bare, pooling with sweat. He was pale, sallow and breathing unevenly. I knew nothing about fading, but he looked like he had lost a lot of blood. He was propped up on a few cushions.

Lalathien's eyes were closed, but it was clear that he had heard us enter the room.

"LEAVE ME!" he shouted. I grimaced a little at his anger, but I had come this far.

"Lord Lalathien," I said, with a bow. His eyes flashed open and I felt with anguish the pain in them.

"What… is this?" he said, alarmed, looking at the baby in my arms with horror. I shoved Joy towards him and instinctively his arms grabbed her and held her close.

"It's a baby! Her name is Joy," I said, then Elrond and I left the room, and listened outside.

There was a lot of shouting in Sindarin, Quenya (I guessed), Westron and some other languages I wasn't familiar with, but then the baby started crying. I suddenly worried that this was a bad plan.

Then I heard a Sindarin lullaby being sung.

"Come, let us have some tea," said Elrond, with a smile. A few feet away from Lalathien, we sat on a cot and from somewhere the half-elf produced a pot of tea and three cups. Glorfindel strode into the tent and sat opposite us. Elrond poured us the tea, which was not like tea I had ever had before; aromatic and strong.

We drank our tea in silence, listening to Lalathien alternating between cursing at the baby and singing her a song about mountains.

After a while, I said I should take Joy back to her mother.

"Bring her back tomorrow at the same time," advised Elrond. Glorfindel nodded, grimly.

I walked back into Lalathien's quarters.

"I've heard about you, Mistress Healer," said the elf, menacingly. But he had a baby in his arms which took the edge from his anger. I picked up Joy and smiled at him. He turned away from me.

Glorfindel walked me and Joy back to her mother's tent, saying nothing. But he nodded at me, and the next day showed up to accompany me back to the elf camp.

Each evening, while Lalathien reluctantly took the baby in his arms, I made use of my time. Elrond let me grind some herbs for him with his mortal and pestle (far superior to what we had), and follow him on his round while he looked after his patients. Glorfindel drank tea, silently.

It was a little tense, but I was patient.

One evening, I couldn't take Joy to Lalathien as she was teething, and in some pain. In turns Berendine and I walked her up and down the camp, until I put a little brandy on her gums.

Glorfindel arrived the next morning and with a big grin, he told me that Lalathien had been asking about Joy. Lalathien was worried about her teething as well, he told me, and had decided to make her a teething toy.

"He is thinking about the future," said Glorfindel. I did not want to celebrate too soon, but it felt like success.

"That was very clever," said Annie, a week later, as I brought him up to speed with my plan to stop Glorfindel's friend from fading. "Elves adore children, and from what Gil-galad has said, I do not think any have been born for close to three hundred years."

"Really?" I asked, dumbfounded. I put it on my list of things to ask Elrond about.

"Although I do not think we wanted to advertise that we had a baby in our camp," he said.

I was sure that his family didn't want to let the elves, in particular Elrond, know about Joy, but I couldn't care less. I wonder if he accepted that Joy was his niece. Unfortunately, it wasn't something that I could ask him directly.

Instead he told me that another large human army and elf army from the north would be joining us in what they were calling the Last Battle. I hoped it was the Last Battle, and was glad more soldiers were coming to aid us.

"Will you stay here with the sick, or come with us to Dagorland?" asked Annie, pensively.

"I will go as Thavron commands me," I told him, surprised he had to ask.

"I will not sway you from your duty, for I feel mine keenly. But I will worry for your safety, nonetheless," he told me, looking down at me. I wondered if he had the same abilities to look into someone's soul as his father, but decided it was unlikely.

"I will worry for your safety, but I trust you," I told him. He nodded at me, as if he was deciding something, then changed tact. He told me how long it would take to reach our destination, the treacherous terrain we had to cover, and how it would be our biggest test yet.

It was not encouraging, but I listened intently. Annie was far more well-travelled than me, and if he thought the land rough, I wondered how we would fare.

I had wanted to see Middle Earth, I told myself.

Returning Joy to Berendine's tent with Annie in tow, which was close to the royal family's tents, caught my friend's attention.

"Prince Anarion has a kind heart," she told me, smiling. I rolled my eyes. I couldn't think of anything worse than getting closer to that family, despite my friendship with Annie.

I turned the conversation towards Joy and Lalathien, telling Berendine that having an elf fond of her daughter could only benefit her.

"Indeed, Prince Isildur is pleased," she told me, astonishing me. But I was glad, even though I didn't think catching his attention would end well for anyone. Perhaps if he was disposed to think well of his daughter… I wondered if I would regret using Joy in this manner. I hoped not, and sent up a quick prayer to the Valar.

Berendine was very pleased with the situation as she had never slept so well. "That elf charms Joy!" she insisted. "She sleeps throughout the night now."

It could be a coincidence, but I thought not. But she didn't want to talk about Joy - instead she wanted to gossip.

"He favours you. The way he looks at you… it's like something out of a poem!" said Berendine.

I rolled my eyes.

"Tell me, Lady Minnow - do you not speak with your Annie every day - do not deny you call him his family nickname!" she giggled. I couldn't deny it, and I did see him every day but what did that signify?

"I see Thavron every day, and Lord Elrond," I said, a little grumpily.

"Anarion is a young man and you saved his life! And you're a lady now, I tell you Minnow, he means to marry you!" she insisted. Joy gurgled in agreement, but I huffed.

"As if! His father will probably arrange something. And anyway, to marry a prince, I imagine I'd need a dowry, which I don't have. I only have the clothes on my back."

I had one dress, which was in tatters, and my fancy evening dress that Elwen had lent me. My boots were given to me by the elves. The dagger I carried was given to me from Glorfindel. The purse coin, Elendil. The necklace was my mother's. Only my underwear was my own.

The idea of marrying a prince was farcical! And anyway, we were just friends. He told me his news, I told him mine, and that was that.

"If you marry him, can I be your maid instead of Elwen's?" she asked.

"If that would make you happy," I said, archly.

"Everybody is talking about it," said Berendine, cradling Joy who was falling asleep.

"We're going to start a three month trip to somewhere called Dagorland in a week's time, I doubt that anyone cares!" I said, getting annoyed, but Berendine only grinned at me.

For the next few days, I sulked at the mere idea of being gossipped about by the men, glad to take Joy to the elf camp where Elrond let me look through his herb collection, and made me tea to drink.

"What is bothering you?" he asked, at length.

"Nothing. Everything! The idea of marriage," I said, burning the top of my mouth on the scalding hot tea. Elrond dreamily reminded me to drink slowly.

"Marriage is on your mind?" he asked.

"It is," I said, darkly. I wished it weren't.

I couldn't explain exactly why I was angry. Perhaps it was because the idea of becoming kin with Elendil frightened me, but it was also the idea of marriage. Of being wed to someone who would make my decisions for me. This was, frankly, ridiculous as a healer and a midwife, who knew more about life than most virginal girls, but I had seen the very best and worst of married lives for women. I felt like a piece being moved on a board, it felt like my will and agency was being removed. If Elendil decided for whatever reason that he wanted me to marry his youngest son, then I would have no choice. There was nowhere I could go where I could be safe from him.

I picked up Joy from Lalathien, who was smiling at me.

"What's this?" I asked, holding a wooden ring up that Joy was holding onto. It had a ribbon attached to it and was covered in drool.

"I made her a teething ring. I have a little talent with wood-making," said Lalathien, a little embarrassedly.

"It's beautiful," I said, and tied the ribbon around her neck. "Her mother, Berendine, believes that your elf magic has soothed Joy and credits your care with Joy sleeping through the night."

Lalathien hummed. "It is nothing."

"It's not nothing to her mother," I said, meaningfully.

"You are not what I expected," he said, suddenly. I didn't have a chance to ask him what he meant by that as Glorfindel appeared by my side to accompany me back to the camp.

"Do you want to hold Joy?" I asked him. Over the last few weeks, many of the elves in their camp had asked to hold her for a few seconds. She loved the attention, and made appreciative and strange noises which delighted them.

"I do not think it wise," he said. I did not know what that meant, but didn't feel like I could enquire any further. He was being a little odd, I thought, but I would let him reveal it in his own time.

We walked in silence, but as I deposited Joy back safely with her mother, I realised Glorfindel had not left to return to his camp.

"I would speak to you, lady Healer," he said, formally. I frowned at him, and followed him back to the copse of trees we had spoken about the stars weeks ago. But he didn't speak once we got there. Instead, he opened his hand and held out a chain. I looked at it askance, and he took my hand and curled it round the chain, holding my hand for a few seconds and looking deep into my eyes.

I forgot to breathe. But he dropped my hand and turned away so his back was facing me. I looked at the chain. It was fine, very fine, and made of mithril, I thought. The chain held a small yellow flower carved in porcelain or something similar, with a yellow jewel in the middle.

"Why have you given this to me?" I asked, confused.

"You have saved my friend's life, and I think when he realises it, he will want to thank you. But I am compelled to thank you as well. I know that you are in need of it," he said.

"I'm in need of thanks?" I asked, rather stupidly. "And I do not need thanks for what I did."

"I understand that you feel it is your duty, and you would heal any you found in need of it, but Minnow, that's not what I speak of," he said, with meaning. I wished he would speak more plainly, for I couldn't guess to what he was referring. And it was annoying to have this conversation with his back.

"Indeed, I hope that I continue to heal all those who I am able to help, but obviously I tried to help Lalathien for you. For your sake."

Glorfindel spun around and looked at me. Since I had come upon him in the copse of trees a few weeks ago, I hadn't seen him anything other than composed, if a little morose. But now, he looked alarmed, but also a little excited? I couldn't tell. His moods changed directions like an unyielding wind.

"Please, I do not need thanks, and this looks special and important," I said, thinking, a little sadly, that special and important were not words to describe myself.

"You are in need of them. Its worth is more than all of Tolfalas," he said. My mouth fell open.

"What?!" I whispered, outraged. I couldn't believe I was holding something worth so much in my hand and began to panic.

"Gondorian court etiquette demands a dowry," he said, slowly.

"What?!" I repeated, starting to sweat. "Take it back!" I said, moving towards him, but he took a step back.

"Do not plead ignorant with me," he said, almost angrily. "You know of what I speak."

"It's just a stupid rumour! I'm not going to marry Annie. I'm sure he only thinks of me as another sister… I don't think Elendil wants his son to marry me of all people," I said, confused. Why on Middle Earth would Glorfindel be listening to stupid soldier gossip? And worse, believing it!

"Elendil will ask for a dowry. Simply show him the chain, but do not relinquish it. He will want it in his family line, but you are under no obligation to give it to him. He covets elf-made jewellery and this piece is particularly fine," instructed Glorfindel.

This was madness, I thought.

"I cannot accept this," I said, and held it out for him.

"Once given, it cannot be returned," he said. He turned on his heel and fled into the night.

I was left standing in the copse of trees with a chain more valuable than the entirety of Tolfalas! What if someone robbed me, I thought, madly, what if I dropped it? What if I dropped it and a cat appeared and ate it, and an eagle appeared and grabbed the cat? What if I tried to shoot the eagle down with a bow and arrow and it fell into a river and swept away into the sea and a whale swallowed it?!

I took a deep breath. I was not going to drop the chain, I told myself. I put it over my head and tucked it into my bodice along with the seashell necklace that hung there.

I started to run through the camp towards the healer's tents, barely breathing. I ran to Thavron and pulled him into a quiet corner.

"What has got into you, you mad thing!" he said, annoyed. I pulled out the necklace.

"Glorfindel has given me this! He said it was for my dowry, but I'm not getting married anytime soon!" I said, breathlessly.

Thavron peered at it, admiringly, then looked up at me.

"Aren't you?" said Thavron, carefully. I was aghast, I realised that it wasn't just Glorfindel that had made assumptions.

"He said I can't give it back, but I can, can't I?" I said, desperately. "Maybe Elrond can talk some sense into him..."

"Elf-gifts cannot be returned," said Thavron, thoughtfully. "If I'm not very much mistaken, this is an emblem of his House in Gondolin. He has not given this away without thought."

"What does that mean?" I said, more disconcerted than ever. He told me to put the necklace away and so I tucked it into my bodice. Then he told me to calm down and make him some tea.

The tea-making did soothe me, and in the dark of the evening, I began to breathe normally again. I passed him a cup, wishing it was the tea leaves Elrond had.

"You know why I let a woman join the healers?" he said, sipping his tea.

"Desperation?" I said, with a smile.

"A little bit of that, but I thought, here's a girl with her head screwed on straight. Straight forward, practical and self-aware: she's not going to fall in love with any old soldier that comes her way."

"Well, I haven't fallen in love with any old soldier who comes my way," I muttered.

"Oh, Minnow, you innocent fool. You are much more trouble than I could have possibly conceived!" said Thavron. "So clever and yet you know yourself so little! Finish your tea and go to bed. We have to start packing in the morning. We make for Dagorland."

As I lay on my cot, feeling every inch the innocent fool that Thavron had called me, confused by everything that had happened, one thing became clear. I wondered why I had been so interested in finding my father when I already had the best father-figure.