The more I see of the world, the more am I dissatisfied with it

― Elizabeth Bennet, Pride and Prejudice

It took a week to prepare to move again. Luckily the men's foot fungus had fully healed, but there was another outbreak of lice. We all groaned.

"I have noticed that lice is the one job you do not volunteer for," said Varin, with a smile.

I said nothing.

"I could make you do it," threatened Thavron. I raised my chin defiantly at him. "I won't, however, because I am not a monster, and you have won the favour of the elves yet again. Elrond informed Elendil, who in turn, told me about your assistance in aiding an elf named Lalathien. And so, you will not have to delouse the men."

I grinned, triumphantly.

"I guess that means I'm doing it," grumbled Astro. He got up from the campfire we were sitting around for lunch, and began to make the potent liquid that killed the lice.

There was still much to discuss about our move.

There were about fifty soldiers that were not fit to fight, and would never be again. Thavron and Rin debated at length about who should stay to look after them: someone had to take the injured men to Minas Tirith. There were only twenty-four of us left, and he hadn't heard how many healers would be joining us from the north, or when. The army couldn't afford to lose any of us.

"Someone has to stay, girlie. Maybe it should be you," said Erik, hefting himself up to a standing position.

I was thankful he wasn't spitting, but annoyed he was speaking to me. "Maybe it should be you!" I snapped. I would be glad to see the back of him. He sneered half-heartedly at me.

He did have a point. I was the most junior healer and physically the weakest (or maybe not, I thought, eyeing Erik hobbling around). However, I had never been to Minas Tirith before, and knew nothing of the halls of healing there, so Thavron said that despite being physically the least experienced and the weakest link (always lovely to hear), my inexperience put me at a disadvantage when it came to shepherding our men home.

Good, I thought, angrily, because despite my bad mood, I wanted to stay with the army.

Later that day, I traipsed over to the Elvish camp with a sleepy Joy drooling on my shoulder.

It had been a few days since our quarrel, and still, Glorfindel was nowhere to be seen. He was clearly not going to continue accompanying me and Joy on our trips to visit Lalathien. I didn't know exactly why we had fallen out - it seemed so stupid - but it was clear we had. Why he had decided to take it upon himself to gift me a dowry and refuse to take it back was beyond my ken. I wasn't sure if he thought me ungrateful, or simply beneath his attention, but it cut me deeply, and was festering.

Thinking of our fight made me want to cry, but my pride refused to let me. I was so angry with him and his stupid necklace.

"Gah!" said Joy, hitting me in the face.

"Ow! Treacherous beastie," I accused her. Elrond came out of the tent to greet us with a wide smile, and took us in to see Lalathien.

"Little human," he said to Joy, who reached out her pudgy hands to grab his face. He smiled at her.

"You're not yourself, mortal," said Lalathien, as I passed Joy into his arms.

"Gah!" said Joy.

"Gah," I repeated, morosely.

"Laurefindelë is also in a mood," he observed.

"Gah," I said. I was both desperate to hear anything about Glorfindel and his various moods, and adverse to speaking about him.

"Mortals are most confusing," Lalathien said to Joy who was trying to grab his nose.

"Gah," I agreed. Lalathien looked at me curiously, and I supposed I should be more sensible. "What's Lindon like? That's where you live, isn't it?"

"What's Lindon like, she asks me? You might as well ask me what the galaxy is like?"

"I can see the galaxy at night with my eyes but I have never been to Lindon," I complained.

"You would need to look through a telescope to truly see the galaxy. I don't think a mere mortal would understand any description of Lindon," said Lalathien.

I rolled my eyes.

"Glorfindel told me about telescopes," I said, petulantly.

"He did?" asked Lalathien, surprised. I rolled my eyes at him.

Perhaps things were not so bad after all, I thought, as I left Lalathien to sing and chatter to Joy. There was much to find contentment in.

Then we sat down for tea. Elrond was uncharacteristically quiet, which was a little unnerving. Presumably Glorfindel had spoken to him. Or he thought that I would unburden myself if given enough space.

Gossiping elves, I thought, annoyed. I cast about for a topic of conversation.

"One of our number has been tasked to return our injured men to Minas Tirith, although we do not know who yet," I said, after a while. I left the question of what the elves would do with their injured kin hanging in the air, expectantly.

"Lalathien will be taken to Lindon," said Elrond. "The rest of the injured will be fit to fight soon."

"Ah yes, I have heard Lindon cannot be explained to mortals," I said, into my tea cup.

"On the contrary, many mortals live in Lindon," said Elrond. I was surprised. Seeing my interest in Lindon, he expanded on the subject, telling me that Noldor, Sindar and all Lindon elves lived in the region together - and even some mortals! I was intrigued by a land where everyone lived together (well, except dwarves). It was well known for its harbours and forests, Elrond explained, and there were many settlements but no large city.

Those who dwelled in Lindon were renowned for their singing, he told me, for it was taken seriously as a craft. I was intrigued. I wondered if I would ever see Lindon and hear its minstrels.

But I was not in the Song, I remembered, dully. Whatever that meant.

Walking back with a hiccuping Joy, I looked around for him, but Glorfindel was nowhere to be found. I was now used to seeing him every day. I felt that something had gone wrong between us, but I didn't know how to put it right. Once we were on the road, we would be separated again. Who knows when I would see him again?

But my dark thoughts were interrupted. The men were silently crowding around something but I could not see who or what, only hear a strange sound. I hastened to the healing tents, Joy grumbling in my arms, and sought out Thavron.

The healers were watching from the sidelines. I looked at our head healer, but his face was like stone, and his arms crossed.

Then I heard it; a strangled cry.

"It's a flogging," said Thavron, tersely, confirming my fear. Varin whispered to me that they had caught two men together, and that according to the rules of Gondor, Isildur was giving them twenty lashes each.

My heart sank.

Looking past the crowd, I could see the elves far away, watching what could only be a horrific spectacle. What must they think, I wondered. Perhaps they saw it as confirmation that our race was inferior; man's inhumanity to man.

I took Joy away before she started crying and rocked her to sleep in Berendine's tent. Berendine entered the tent, looking pale.

"Did you watch it?" she asked me, as we looked at Joy, sucking her thumb and oblivious to the world.

I shook my head.

"The soldiers have seen such horrors… why inflict any more on them?" she said softly. I looked at her, surprised at this oblique criticism of Isildur. But in most situations, more is felt than said, I thought. I could not assume that her silence on Isildur was approval. I was not privy to her inner thoughts on Joy's father, but I was glad that she could see the wrong in this.

I wandered back to the healing tent. The crowd had dispersed, and the healers were standing around frustrated and impatiently. We awaited permission to attend to the two men.

A captain came over to Thavron and nodded.

"It is better if you go," Thavron said, stiffly, nodding to me and Rin. I wrapped him in a big hug. I had the sudden urge to tell him how much he meant to me.

Silently, Rin and I trudged over to the first soldier's tent. He lay on his stomach, blood congealing on his sweaty back. The whip had been cruel, I thought.

Rin and I washed and bandaged his back with care.

"Elendil is merciful," said Rin, after a while. I raised my eyebrows at her, and made a horrified face. How was this merciful?

"He is," said the soldier, sitting up. "The law says two hundred lashes, which is fatal. I am grateful for his leniency."

"You will have to sleep on your stomach for a few weeks," I said, trying to be cheerful. "But otherwise, I believe you will recover."

But I'm not sure I believed what I was saying; how was one supposed to recover from this treatment? These men were dying for their country and this was how they were treated?

Rin and I followed the captain to the second tent, where the man was sitting, crying silently.

"How is Dun?" he said. He was slightly younger than Dun, but older than I was, although it was hard to tell with his scruffy beard. Facial hair aged men, as did soldiering, I thought.

"He is as well as can be expected, Invendir," said Rin in a level voice. I was surprised: she knew these men! I wished I had her calmness and stoicism; my hands were shaking as I cleaned his back and I didn't trust myself to speak. But I wanted to heal him, I wanted desperately for him to be safe. The best way to calm a patient is to be calm yourself. Usually this was no large challenge for me, even when seeing the men in horrific states after fights with deadly evil... but this was a man made evil, and therefore harder to stomach.

"You are young, Minnow, and full of ideals," said Rin wearily, as we walked away, our job finished. "You must learn to leash your anger. I can see everything you feel and think on your face. You must learn to guard yourself better."

"Is that the Numeanorean way?" I asked, angrily.

"It is the way of the nobility, of which you are now a member," she said. "You will understand when you see more of the world. You have been shielded from many of life's unpleasantness on Tolfalas."

It was probably true, I thought, that things were different and in some ways easier on my island. I felt a pang of homesickness. But I didn't think that I would ever understand.

"The more I see of the world, the more I am dissatisfied," I said to her, and to myself. Rin sighed, and grasped me on the shoulder.

Left to my own thoughts, I could barely contain myself. I truly hated them. I hated Isildur. I hated Elendil. I didn't care for Numeanorean ways, I didn't care to be part of the nobility.

I wanted to shout and scream. Instead I yelped when I realised Annie was standing in front of me, and I was standing outside the healers' tents, glaring at no one.

"Come," said Annie, taking me by the arm and walking with me through the camp towards the swell of a hill. I could see that he wanted some privacy to talk, but I couldn't bear it.

On a little shelf on a mound, he turned to me, his face grim. I was glad he looked grim. For all this gossip about the two of us (which I felt was unfounded) I couldn't believe that Annie would ask anyone to marry them in a camp, after a public whipping.

But perhaps I should start to rethink what I knew of Numeanoreans.

I started crying. Huge, heavy sobs and hot tears flowed out of me. I didn't know exactly what or who I was crying for… Dun and Invendir who deserved to be left in peace, unharmed and without shame. Thalion, whose absence was a dull ache in my heart at all times. The Tolfalas soldiers who had died and been buried in mass unmarked graves. My own worries; Isildur's predatory nature, how trapped I was feeling, how out of place I was. Glorfindel calling me "lady Healer" instead of using my name, and then avoiding me. Being tricked into accepting a necklace I didn't want, for a dowry I was never going to need, for a man I didn't want to marry!

Annie wrapped his arms around me and let me cry on his chest. At length, when I had exhausted myself, I stepped back and apologised. He gave me a handkerchief and I dabbed my eyes, embarrassed.

"Does anyone else know?" I asked him, after a while. "Of what you said to Isildur? About us?"

Annie looked surprised that I would speak of our alleged liaison aloud.

"No, he values discretion, and of course, he had been dishonoured," he said.

"But your father? Will he speak of it?" I wondered if Elendil had mentioned it in passing to the elves.

"You are concerned for your reputation… perhaps it is not surprising, as we have just seen two men flogged… I am sorry, Minnow, that you have been put in this situation. No, there are no rumours about me… taking you as a mistress. And… we are not allowed to… carry on… with nobility," said Annie, haltingly.

I nodded and sat on the ground. Annie knelt besides me, more elegantly, and offered me his water flask. Ever the gentleman, I thought, accepting with a smile. He asked me about Dun and Invendir's, and we spoke about their health, avoiding the subject of how they were injured. After a while, we became lost in our own thoughts, and looked over the camp. I thought about my friendship with Annie, and how it was at odds with how much I hated his brother and father, but because he was royal, I could never express myself. How I wanted to ask him what he thought of the flogging, but couldn't. He seemed to care about his men. I hoped he would never flog anyone. But they were his family...

We were to leave this place in the morning. I hoped that I would never, ever return.

After a while, we saw two figures leave the camp and head towards us. Two elves walked around the camp, and made their way towards the hill we were sitting on. I wondered if they wanted to speak to Annie about something, but when I looked at him he shrugged.

We waited for them to notice us on our little shelf, but strangely they did not greet us. My stomach dropped when I realised that one elf was blond, and the other dark-haired. It was none other than Elrond and Glorfindel, who walked beneath us looking agitated. I wondered if they were upset about the public flogging.

They stopped a little way below us, but were out of sight.

"I do not like to see you so upset, my friend," said Elrond in Sindarin. Anarion and I made eye-contact, alarmed to be eavesdropping on a private conversation, but we could not move away without revealing ourselves. I did not want to see Glorfindel, but I certainly did not want to listen to a private conversation.

"I am fine," said Glorfindel, curtly. I groaned inwardly.

"You are deceiving no one! Have you quarrelled with her?"

I could feel Anarion's eyes on me and my cheeks gaining heat.

"It is clear that you hold at least some regret over your quarrel? " prompted the half-elf.

"It is beneath me, I admit."

"You think it's beneath you to quarrel with a mortal? Or she is beneath you? I for one admire her. She is brave, courageous even, and clever. She is the most dedicated healer I have seen. A little stubborn perhaps, but that has been to her advantage."

"I will admit she is a thorough healer, that cannot be denied," Glorfindel said, tensely.

"Why are you so angry ?" cried Elrond. "You have drawn attention to yourself with your avoidance of her. You owe her your life and we very likely owe her Lalathien's life, and therefore at the very least, you should be civil towards her even if you feel that you do not owe her your regard."

"Owe her my regard? Indeed!" shouted Glorfindel. "I admire her against my will, against my better judgement! Who is she?! We know she is not wholly human but it is clear she is mortal. She has neither great beauty nor great elegance. Yes, she is clever, inventive and a great healer… but I have never met a mortal so consistently covered in dirt or blood. And she doesn't even seem to care! As for her age… she is just a child! We would not consider her fully grown by our standards!"

"O Glorfindel," said Elrond, with great sadness in his voice. "Why do you fight it so?"

"It is only desire," Glorfindel said, after a pause. "She is a strange thing, and I have not seen her likeness before, but it is nothing strong or lasting. It will pass. It is a flame that will burn out soon."

"I never known you to express desire before," said Elrond. "It is usually mortals who express desire for you."

"That is because mortals are vain, shallow creatures and their admiration is thin. Their love is not strong or true."

"You do not truly believe that."

"I do, Elrond."

"And what of our mutual friend? Does she think of you, admire you as you do her, do you think?"

"No, I think her destiny points her towards another," he answered. "And perhaps that is for the best."

"That, I believe, is what truly vexes you, and perhaps why you have quarrelled with her," said Elrond. "Lord Glorfindel, the most admired of the Eldar, who catches the eye of all females within his gaze, has been overlooked by the object of his affection."

"Enough! I will conquer this," vowed Glorfindel. "I trust you will speak of this to no one."

"You have my word, but you must calm down, Glor, or you will do yourself an injury," said Elrond. I listened to their footsteps as they walked off, but it took me a few long minutes until I could raise my head and meet Anarion's gaze.

I felt stunned and as if someone had slapped me, repeatedly.

"I had long guessed you could understand some Sindarin," said Anarion, slowly. "And now I know."

"There didn't seem a polite time to explain I understand the language," I said, dazed.

We judged that they had gone to stretch their legs on a long walk and talk more, so deemed it safe to make our way back to camp. For a while, I pointedly made casual observations about the weather, acutely aware that Rin had told me my thoughts and feelings could be seen on my face.

"It is said that the Balrog Slayer," Anarion said carefully, "developed a taste for mortal women after he was brought back."

This stopped me in my tracks.

"But he's an Elf, an immortal!" I said stupidly.

"It is not uncommon. Elves have had relationships with humans before. After all, that is how Numeanoreans came about. Elrond has human blood," he said, slowly.

"Beren and Luthien. But they were in love," I said, thinking.

"Perhaps his brush with mortality is the reason he seeks it out amongst mortal women," said Annie.

I looked at him horrified. I remembered what Rin had said. Glorfindel's heart was not easily touched. He had clearly said it was beneath me. I shuddered. I could not help thinking about Isildur and how he had hurt my wrist in the mountains.

"Mortal women?" I repeated.

"Elves can lie with a human and not bond to them," explained Annie, very awkwardly.

"I beg your pardon?" I said. I could not guess his meaning. What did he mean - bond? Annie looked off into the distance, his cheeks reddening. This was an embarrassing subject, I realised, for the courtly nobility. Being a midwife, I was more accustomed to talking about sex.

"That's why my father doesn't like us… Isildur… having relations with nobility. Because to lie with a lady is to marry her… but to lie with… someone who is not of the blood… it is not the same. We're too far removed from the Eldar for it to matter, but father likes to keep the old ways."

"I see," I said, coldly. So the elves and Numeanoreans were perfectly happy to lie with us peasant folk if and when it suits them, because we were not of the blood. Of course, we meant nothing to these lords, I thought, angrily, thinking of Berendine. When would Isildur cast her aside, I wondered, fretfully, and what would her life look like then?

"It's not how I feel, Minnow," Annie said, looking at me.

"I don't want to talk about it," I said, and started walking again. We were in the camp now, and I wanted to go back to the healer's tents where I felt safest.

"What did you quarrel about? With Lord Glorfindel?" he asked.

How was I supposed to tell Annie that the stupid elf had decided to gift me a dowry so I could marry Annie of all reaons?!

"I don't want to talk about it," I repeated, panicking. "Good day!" And I left him behind, running through the subdued soldiers.

"Oi oi, Fish Girl!" shouted someone. I bit back the urge to curse at them.

When I returned to the healer's tents, it was quiet and almost evening. Thavron was drinking a cup of ale, alone at the campfire. I was surprised to see him drink; the healers rarely partook in the celebrating or commiserating alongside the soldiers.

I sat down next to him.

"I have asked Varin to take our injured soldiers back to Minas Tirith," he told me, dully.

"But we need him!" I replied without thinking, shocked.

"Yes, we do. But I find that I need him more," he said, looking up at me. His eyes were slightly red, and I realised that he had been crying. "Am I selfish? I have devoted my whole life to healing and have wanted nothing in return…"

"I would never call you selfish!" I said, firmly. "Strict and unyielding, yes but not selfish."

"He is not talking to me. He's furious with me," Thavron said with a smile.

"I'm sure he'll forgive you when you return to Minas Tirith."

"I know we need him here. I will… I will…" Thavron's voice broke and I could see tears forming in his eyes. "I swear on the Valar I will not see him flogged," he said, resolutely.

I could feel a lump forming in my throat. I put my arm around Thavron and rubbed his back. "Is now a good time to tell you that I love you?" I asked. Thavron smiled at me.

"I know, little Minnow," he said.

We left camp at first light. It was a grey and miserable morning and no one was inclined to conversation, which suited me well. I had much to think upon. I fingered my two necklaces, the seashell and the golden flower, and wondered when I would see Glorfindel again, and what I would say. It felt like there was a large gulf between us and I did not know if I wanted to cross it.

Thank you for all the lovely reviews and I hope you're enjoying my "woke LOTR" story (ha!). More seriously though, thanks for taking the time to comment, it makes my day!