There will be little rubs and disappointments everywhere, and we are all apt to expect too much; but then, if one scheme of happiness fails, human nature turns to another; if the first calculation is wrong, we make a second better: we find comfort somewhere.

— Jane Austen, Mansfield Park

My horse was frantic when I led her into the stable at the court, as was I. Perhaps she was sensitive to my energy, and my mounting dread. Adrenaline was pumping through my veins at an alarming speed, and I felt jittery. As I had hurtled along the roads I now knew so well, I began to feel as if I were travelling to battle. But now I was here, standing in front of the large buildings that made up Gil-galad's court in the hazy afternoon heat, I was beginning to lose my mettle.

I took a deep breath in, remembered who I was, and scampered up the steps, not paying the guards any attention. But after choosing a door at random, it led only to another room, and then another room. After a while, I had to admit I was lost, and frustrated. There were no corridors, and all these rooms were empty, although filled with heavy furniture and clearly in use. All the people must be in these meetings about orcs they have that I am not privy to, I thought, looking wondrously at the long tapestries and the velvet curtains as I strode through yet another door.

I reached a smaller and much less ornate room that had one occupant behind a desk. Luckily, he was known to me.

"Lalaith!" I said, with surprise. I had not, to my regret, thought much of him in the last few months, or even asked Glorfindel about him. How selfish I had been, I rebuked myself. But here he was, sitting in front of me and smiling.

"Do you like my contraption?" he asked, after a beat. He looked a little startled to see me too. He was sitting in a wooden seat with wheels, and looked quite comfortable. Knocked out of my anxious thoughts, I examined it. He manoeuvred it deftly from under his desk, and I admired it. The desire to fight my corner was slowly leaving me, I realised. "Elrond designed it and Erestor made it. He is a deft hand with wood," he said.

"What do you call it?" I asked. "It is ingenious!"

"A wheelchair. Perhaps slightly prosaic… but it is descriptive."

After a beat, he showed me what he was working on - transcripts from the meetings in the court in Elvish and Westron. He had a beautiful hand, I thought, looking at the delicate strokes on the parchment.

"But I don't think you came here to ask me about my work as a scribe, did you? What are you doing here?" he asked, his eyes searching my face.

I swallowed and told him I didn't really know. I looked nervously at the door.

"I know what it is your detractors say about you," Lalaith said, at length.

I tensed.

He continued: "But I also know you and Glorfindel, and no one who has ever met him can deny that he loves you, and that the two of you are well-suited. He deserves happiness."

To my surprise, and great embarrassment, I burst into tears, and started warbling out an apology as I tried to stop the tears falling.

"I will not say do not cry, for not all tears are evil," said Lalaith, handing me a handkerchief. I dabbed my eyes. "And Valar knows, I have cried enough of my own."

I sniffed, my own pain seeming small in comparison. "I am sorry," I started to say.

"I am fine, child. I fought the powers of Morgoth and Sauron - and survived. I enjoy my work as Lindon's head scribe and I have the best of friends in Arda. And I am indebted to you for helping me realise it. I hear that Joy has gone to Arnor?" he asked.

We chatted about Joy for a few minutes, and I said that I hoped we would meet again soon. He gave me a wary look that made my heart clench: I was not supposed to be here.

But Lalaith did not sway me from my mission to be shown to where Gil-galad held his court. He showed me to the meeting room the high-king held his councils in, and explained the strange layout of the rooms. It was slightly like a maze to my mind; the rooms encircled the large chambers in the centre, but only certain doors could access it. Lalaith explained that it made sense if you were familiar with certain mathematical constructs used in Valinorian music which made me roll my eyes and wish to punch the wall. Of course, Elves had to make everything a complicated riddle, I thought. Sometimes everything felt like an inside joke I was not privy to.

But as I followed him into the inner circles, I started to feel dread. Did I really want to open myself up to more censure? Was Galadriel correct - would the court refuse to acknowledge me? Did they think I was Glorfindel's secret whore that they would tolerate him having, but not flaunting in public?

Why did people even think I was a kept woman - who had started this rumour, I wondered. Could it be Galadriel? Surely even she would not stoop so low. At the heart of it, I thought sadly, was the fact that Glorfindel and I may consider ourselves married and committed to each other, but it was not a relationship that either culture would recognise.

We approached a small door, which I would have thought inconspicuous and not likely to lead to a grand chamber where the king met. It was ordinary, wooden, and with a brass doorknob.

"Through there," said Lalaith. I looked back at him and he nodded at me. Taking a deep breath in, I opened it, my head full of doubts.

There had been a council meeting, I saw, and it had just broken up. Scrolls were on the table, chairs erratically peppered about. There was one large table; marble and circular. Everyone was streaming out the doors on the other side of the room, which were grander, larger and more ornate. I could see both human men and Elves leaving. Meeting Lalaith had probably saved me from bursting in and making a fool of myself, I thought ruefully. It was a lucky encounter. He had kept me talking and calmed me down, I realised belatedly.

There were only two people left in the room apart from me. Gil-galad and Glorfindel. I strode towards them.

"Minnow," said Glorfindel, surprised at my presence. His face was like thunder. He strode over to me, grabbed me by the elbow and took me into an antechamber before I had the chance to do anything else. "What is the meaning of this?" he hissed.

Do not falter now, I told myself. "I gather I am not allowed to be here? And you are avoiding me?"

"Be quiet!" he said, looking out at the hall where the last few people left the room. It didn't look like anyone had turned their heads, looked back and seen me, but of course I couldn't be sure. My concentration was on Glorfindel.

"NO!" I shouted. He sighed.

"I am trying to keep you safe," he said, holding me by my arms. I looked up at him, suddenly unsure and unable to stay mad.

"I'm not your whore ," I said trying to keep back tears. Glorfindel flinched as though slapped.

"Minnow, no one who matters thinks that," he started to say.

"I've heard what they're calling me, Glor, I've heard but I don't understand why ."

"Your eyes are red, you've been crying," he said, reaching up to stroke my face. I shrugged helplessly and he drew me into an embrace and kissed my hair. "We have upset some people."

"I'm upset ," I said, feeling pathetic. I held him tight and pressed myself into his chest.

"As am I. There are many who are jealous of the Eldar, and there are many of us who… judge half-Elves and their associations with mortals. I'm afraid I was once one of them. We are conspicuous and unconventional apart and even more so together," he said, stroking my hair.

"We did not contend with the feelings of others. We were too full of our own," I said, quietly.

"You may not have thought of the obstacles set against us, but I did," said Glorfindel. "And I made the choice."

I stepped back and looked down at my boots. I had been naive, I thought, when I thought - even prided myself on - being pragmatic and sensible.

"Come and speak with me, both of you," called Gil-galad from the large chamber. I stepped back and shared a look with Glorfindel, and he gave me a tight smile.

Gil-galad's personal office was rather wonderful. His desk was made of colourful marble, and his weapons were hanging by the wall: his spear looked even bigger inside. He also seemed to crave the outdoors when he was indoors, for one whole wall was glass and the view was of a rolling meadow.

Glorfindel and I sat down in the seats in front of his desk, and I tried to push down the annoyance that I was about to be told off like a naughty child. I vaguely wondered what Glorfindel was feeling, and I stared aimlessly at the bookshelves behind Gil-galad. I couldn't read any of the titles: they were all in Quenya.

Gil-galad looked solemnly at both of us.

"Minnow. I am always glad to see you, but you should not be here. I had asked Glorfindel to keep you away from court for the time being, but I see my instructions have not been conveyed," he said, mildly.

My head snapped over to look at Glorfindel, who was staring angrily at the books behind Gil-galad as well. I could feel a flush of anger and shame wash over me.

"Am I to understand," I began slowly, "that I am unwelcome at your court?"

Gil-galad sighed and stood up. "Minnow, I do not wish you to feel unwelcome in my court, in my lands, in my presence, but there are some things beyond my control," he said, looking out to the meadow. I could see a breeze flutter through the trees.

Gil galad explained that there were political tensions now war was over that he had not realised he would have to contend with on his return. He had felt instinctively that fighting Sauron would claim his life, and that Lindon would begin to fade, and that Elrond would be his natural successor. Instead, he told me, he found a second wind in life, saved from a slow sulphurous death in Mordor, and given the one thing he desired the most had mostly given up on.

"And I am repaying you ill," he said. "And yet, I must ask you to comply."

Glorfindel's silence was oppressive.

"Ten years is a long time to be away, and rumours reached certain lords that I was lying mostly dead in a pile of Mordor ash. Movements by unfriendly parties were made. And upon my return, my general, a noble lord, brought back a Tolfalasan mortal who he says he is married to. And Erestor is…. Well, he's wonderful," said Gil-galad. I bit back a smile. "But he is rather a lot."

"Do you mean he is rather… male?"

Gil-galad sighed. "I never thought that this would happen. The Elvish houses do not care - in fact, I think they are happy for me. I hope they are. But the Men…"

"They don't understand. Humans live so short a time compared to Elves," muttered Glorfindel. "We do not need heirs like they do."

Gil-galad had already chosen his successor, and it was Elrond. He had no need to marry an Elvish lady, and no desire. And that was so different to how human lineages worked, I thought. I remembered Elendil ordering the flogging of two soldiers who had been caught together. How scared Thavron had been for Varin. How many people have had to hide their true selves, I wondered.

"And there are men who think Elves are stealing their women," spat Glorfindel. I flinched.

"I won't come to court," I said, my voice sounding strange even to myself.

"It won't be forever, Minnow," promised Gil-galad. "Just until things settle down."

How long would that be, I wondered. Was it wise to hide me away, I asked myself. Glorfindel had been very quiet throughout this exchange. I would not interrogate him in front of his friend, but I had many questions.

"Have there been any… incidents?" I asked, after a pause.

Glorfindel and Gil-galad exchanged a look.

"Yes," said Glorfindel grimly. He was sitting so still that he looked like a statue, I thought. It reminded me of when we first met; Gil-galad was grave and worried, standing in the corner pensively, and Glorfindel sitting, angry but silent.

"I spoke with Galadriel yesterday," I said lightly. "She is…" But words failed me and I faltered. I looked down at my hands.

Glorfindel stood up.

"She has no right and she goes too far," he hissed. "She should not be speaking to you about us at all."

"Nerwen has long been too full of herself and her own judgement," muttered Gil-galad, crossing his arms.

"She explained some of her reasoning to me. She is fearful for Celebrian," I said, dully.

" Celebrian! I am fearful for-" he stopped and looked at me. I turned my gaze to my lap again, thinking quickly. Was I in danger, I wondered.

"Let's go home," I said. Glorfindel nodded.

As we walked out, I held back and apologised to Gil-galad. Friends we were, but he was still king.

"You are angry with me Minnow, I can see that. I am sorry to be the cause of trouble between you and Glorfindel, but I asked him to be discreet. Not that I would not want to see him flaunt you at every ball, and have full freedom of Lindon, but we must be patient."

"I wish he would speak to me about these things," I muttered.

"If you had spent ten thousand years alone, would you know how to speak your heart?" asked Gil-galad, with a smile. "Sometimes I think that humans are far more resilient than we are - they can weather such changes in their lives."

"I am not weathering this as well as I thought I would," I admitted.

"Give it time," he said.

But time was something that I didn't have in abundance compared to the Elves surrounding me, I thought.

We rode back together, silently and slowly. Had my mission been successful? I had the answers I wanted, and yet I felt deflated.

Glorfindel's face was still thunderous when we arrived back at the house, so I thought I would give him some space. For an hour I walked around the lake, feeling homesick and lonely, until I made my way back to our bedroom and hid under the covers.

After a while, Glorfindel came into the bedroom and sat down on the bed next to me where I had been crying, and pulled back the blanket.

"Gil-galad has informed me that humans are more verbal with their feelings than the Eldar," he said, stiffly.

"Right," I said, feeling uncertain.

"And that I should be more forthcoming about… how I feel."

"I would like that," I said, weakly.

"I suppose Erestor tells him everything he feels," he said, rather begrudgingly.

Glorfindel's face told me he was struggling to express himself.

"Perhaps I just need reassurance that I'm not some embarrassing secret," I said, reaching out and pulling him towards me.

"Oh Minnow," he said, and cuddled up to me, laying his head on my breast. "You are the love of my life, I am not embarrassed of you. I do not know how to protect you from this."

"I don't need protection, Glor, I need your support."

He sighed.

"Sometimes I think mortals have it easier; perhaps a small fight would release our grievances. But Elves cannot fight each other. It is forbidden. Our most sacred taboo. But I feel… that I cannot protect you as I should. I am beginning to feel as if I'm failing again," he said, softly.

I assured him he wasn't failing, but he shook his head.

"I always fail at everything. I failed to protect my father on the crossing, I failed to kill the Balrog without it killing me, and I am failing you," he said.

"That's not how I feel," I said, fervently. "You cannot change how people feel. But there are some who are angry with you. Anyone important? Any good friends?" I asked.

"No. There are some who I have counted as friends for millennia who are disappointed in me. They do not understand, and I cannot expect them to, as before I met you and changed, I did not understand," he said.

My heart sank. Of course, I thought, many of his friends would not understand why the noble, ancient Elf had shacked up with a Tolfalasan midwife of little beauty and no connections - even if they had heard of any of my adventures during the war. For once, I wished I was someone impressive; the daughter of a great man, or a noble lord, or even a prince, for the respect and protection it would afford would be immense. Or perhaps I could be beautiful, or be able to play the harp. Or wield a sword. But I was always going to remain Minnow: a stubborn midwife with unruly hair.

I had always thought that was enough; or at least enough for me.

"You don't have to understand how a friend feels to support them," I said, thinking of Elrond. I did not altogether understand his devotion to Celebrian, although I was trying.

"It hurts me to lose my reputation, my honour," he said, blankly. I flinched.

"I had not thought you had lost your honour," I retorted sharply.

"Ai, Minnow. I love you, and I have chosen you," he said, heavily. I blinked back tears. He did not seem particularly happy about it, merely resigned to the face.

"I know, I'm sorry, I know, I just… I need to hear it," I said, morosely.

"Then I will tell you, if that is what you wish. I will try to think more of your needs," he said, flatly.

"I will endeavour to do the same. Because I love you," I said.

Why did this not feel like a happy moment, I wondered. I had longed to hear him say it for so long.

"Tell me of what Galadriel said to you," he demanded. I sighed, and related our conversation. He swore at the end of it.

"Are all her visions… well, are they reliable?" I asked.

"No, I don't think so… but they are a possibility. Of what might come to pass. But it is impossible to say, and I think, to navigate."

"Do you think Celebrian knows?" I asked. I hated being burdened by this knowledge.

"Celebrian has her own magic. She is not as helpless as her mother seems to believe, she just lacks the same ambition."

"Ambition?"

Glor looked up from his hands. "Galadriel seeks power. She will take over rule of Lothlorien before long. Celebrian's ambition is to be a high-ranking lady. She wants status."

"Isn't she already a high-ranking lady?" I asked, bitterly.

"Anyone who marries Celebrian would have to be lord of his own considerable land… Galadriel would accept nothing less," he said.

"Like your land?" I asked.

"Oh, bigger," he said, blithely. "I don't have any subjects." Then turning to me, he said softly, "I do not want any. Responsibility, I will accept. Power, no."

I hummed. "I feel sorry for her. It must be hard to have seen that vision of her daughter."

"She should not search for visions in the way she does, for her quest to gain power over others will only end badly. But yes, this is distressing news," he said.

"She thinks if you marry Celebrian, it won't happen," I said.

Glorfindel snorted with uncharacteristic disdain. "Indeed," he said, angrily. "Perhaps it would only come to pass if I did marry her. She cannot know the future, only guess at it. But there are some things that are certain. I will never marry Celebrian. Even if I had not met you. Even if Elrond was not in love with her."

"But what should we do?" I said. Glorfindel looked at me sadly.

"There is nothing to do. Celebrian is well protected. We hunt the orcs as best we can. Haldir is the most dedicated warrior I know; he will not let her come to harm if it is in his power. This bad tiding… it could be a thousand years in the future. It could be… never. Just a shadow of a possibility. There is nothing to be done that is not already being done."

That didn't suit me at all. Like Glorfindel, I was a person of action.

"Will we tell Elrond?" I asked. He shook his head.

"He has visions of his own. Perhaps he has already seen it. I cannot tell what will happen between them."

"She's not good enough for him," I said, softly.

"She is young for an Elf, and coddled. But I think she could make him happy, if she thought about what she truly needed rather than what her mother is telling her she wants."

"What a mess," I muttered.

"Do not think more on it. I am more concerned about… We must be careful, promise me you will not venture into court again, and will never visit your patients alone?" he asked, holding both my hands and looking at me so plaintively.

And I did, kissing him desperately, that it felt like nothing and no one could ever touch our happiness.

And I submitted to it. The next six months passed without any great incident. I tried to be content with the small world I was allowed to exist in. I continued my studies and tried to put my heart and soul into learning from Elrond. Glorfindel and I spent hours swimming in the lake or picnicking on its banks with Finda, and Celebrian and I - if we didn't deepen our friendship exactly, it certainly hadn't worsened. Erestor showed up with wine and gossip every so often, and I visited many pregnant women who had no idea that their midwife was the same woman an Elf kept trapped in a castle somewhere in the outskirts of Lindon. But was it enough? I was beginning to wonder.

I began to feel as if I were on borrowed time.

Let me know what you think! I'm not getting too many reviews on FF so I may stop cross posting until I finish it - if you're still reading it - let me know! Otherwise, you can find me on AO3 as Laru.