Chapter Nine - Maedeth
They rode like the wind. Maedeth, Celebrían, and Elladan knew they would find no safety east of Bree until the Last Homely House. Their safety relied on speed and secrecy, not on strength of arms. The last inn east of Bree had windows and doors shuttered. While Maedeth did rue the lack of accommodations for one more night, it didn't make much of a difference.
With each sunrise, Maedeth turned all thought to the Valar. She didn't know if Lord Manwë or Lady Elbereth heard her supplication. The doom of Mandos echoed in her ears with each thought and prayer: "on the House of Fëanor the wrath of the Valar lieth from the West unto the uttermost East." Perhaps the long years between the Oath and her own birth granted her a degree of clemency. She had not sworn it, after all. She had committed no kinslaying. But then, neither had Celebrimbor. And yet his days ended on the end of Sauron's battle standard, skewered like a boar and used to spread despair among the elves.
The Weather Hills passed by. Elladan urged them on, ever faster. They had to reach the cover of the Trollshaws as quickly as possible. While the Trollshaws were closer to Rhudaur, the cover of the trees and the difficult terrain could only aid them. Elves knew the woods better than any orc or hill-man.
They rested in dells and beneath shallow overhangs where rock and stone had broken away. Maedeth saw no sign of Angmar. But then, she rarely came this way in recent years. Elladan would have better knowledge of what subtle signs were left behind.
The last time she'd visited Rivendell, Tiniel and Rínior had agreed to move fully to Arthedain. She remembered the anger in Rínior's face as he turned from the secret entrance to the Hidden Valley. He'd told her that he never wanted to return. And she couldn't blame him.
It was Elrohir, furious with his own people's callousness towards Mírien, that spurred the parting. He'd overheard a few nobles of Noldorin heritage gossiping about the house of Fëanor. Maedeth had not needed to hear more. She remembered those words from her own childhood. What violent death would a daughter of Fëanor's line meet? What cruel fate would befall a son? How much blood would drip from their hands?
Tiniel had faced worse, perhaps. She received only anger, not dark pity. They demanded in secret whisperings to know why any self-respecting elf of Rivendell would seek to marry a Fëanorion. How could she do this to them, to Middle-Earth, to all of Arda? Maedeth scoffed when she thought of those questions. It was like they knew nothing of love.
But when Elrohir heard them begin these murmurings anew with Mírien, he'd had enough. He and Rínior had torn into them anew, though Maedeth remembered even Elrohir having to restrain Rínior by the end. The fire burned brightest in her brother.
She looked at the tiny campfire Elladan had lit beneath a small outcropping in the Trollshaws. The trees hid them well enough that he'd agreed to let them warm up for the night. Curled up, she tried to remember her own parents. Had her mother burned with Fëanor's fire too?
She'd died young. Maedeth remembered that. She lived her whole life in Arthedain, even after marrying an elf of the Havens. Perhaps the elves there were even less accepting of a half-elf of Fëanor's line than those in Rivendell. But both were killed soon after Maedeth and Rínior had been born.
She remembered her mother's dark hair. She remembered her father's sea grey eyes. But that was it. Hardly a unique tale of woe. Many in Arthedain could say the same.
Maedeth opened her eyes again. The crackling fire still burned, and any last ray of sunlight had faded from the sky. Celebrían lay asleep to her left. To her right, staring off into the trees, sat Elladan. She smiled. Maedeth closed her eyes once more.
When they reached the Hidden Valley, her heart lifted. The hallowed air filled her lungs like a fresh draught of miruvor, somehow both warm and cold at the same time. She saw Elladan smile for the first time in weeks. Celebrían squeezed her son's arm.
"Thank you, Elladan, for your hard work in getting us here," she whispered. Celebrían gave him a hug. "Go and rest. You have hardly slept since Bree two weeks ago."
Elladan released a long sigh, hugging his mother back. "It was worth it."
"And now you must rest."
"Yes, mother."
Celebrían spoke in hushed tones to their three horses. They began to follow her without need for leads or direction. Maedeth turned to Elladan.
"Thank you, Elladan."
He smiled at her, giving a quick bow. Maedeth would have laughed at the teasing attempt at chivalry but she saw the softness in his gaze. He meant it. She felt heat rising to her cheeks and turned back to the Valley.
Even amidst winter, autumn leaves still clung to the trees. The water foamed over the falls and sent crystalline sprays into the chill air. For a moment, she forgot about her errand.
But then she saw Elladan walk forward. And she remembered not only why she had followed him and his mother here, but who else she wanted to speak to.
"Elladan, have you any idea where your brother is?" she asked.
He turned as she caught up with him. "Perhaps training with Glorfindel. Perhaps with our father. We can go find him now, if you wish."
She did wish it. But alas, he was not in the Hidden Valley at all. Elrond met them at the doors of his house, smiling as he stood beside Celebrían. He welcomed her with a bow and kind words. They planned a feast that evening, celebrating her return. Elladan whispered to her that they always sought reasons to lift the spirits of those in Rivendell. They had been besieged off and on since Amon Sul's destruction centuries before.
"My other son is on patrol," he said, "and will not be able to join us. But he is due back before morning."
It would have to do. And Maedeth had to admit that she looked forward to a warm meal in the comfort of the Last Homely House.
Celebrían loaned her a dress. She had brought few clothes from Arthedain besides her riding gear. As Maedeth stared at the mirror of the Guest House of Rivendell, she marveled at herself. Her red hair was intricately braided, newly cleaned in a warm bath. Grey eyes neither filled with tears nor ringed with dark circles stared back at her. And the dress was of a richness nearly unimaginable in Arthedain. Silver and white, with beading and gemstones of various blues, she had rarely seen its like in the North. They could not afford such luxuries.
Maedeth walked alone from the guest house to the main house of Rivendell. She didn't mind it. For weeks, she had been nearly silent in the company of Celebrían and Elladan. Now she could be silent alone. She passed a few elves on her way. Most looked surprised to see her, only one outwardly hostile. Good enough.
Elladan would not be joining them. Elrond said his son was grabbing a much needed rest. And Maedeth was glad of it. Celebrían had not been exaggerating when she thanked him for staying awake nearly the entire journey from Bree.
She followed the Lord and Lady of Rivendell into the feasting hall. It was a small gathering, all things told. Only a few dozen elves followed them upon the ringing of the meal bell. Lady Arwen was not there, nor were Elladan or Elrohir, so she sat at the head of the table with Elrond, Celebrían, and Erestor.
As they settled down, Erestor took a seat across from Maedeth, leaving a spot free across from Celebrían. Before she could ask why, a kind, familiar face entered the hall.
"Lady Maedeth, it has been far too long since you came to Rivendell," said Glorfindel, apologizing for being late. "I had hoped to greet you before this began but I was delayed."
"Lord Glorfindel! I am glad you are joining us tonight," she said. She meant it. Glorfindel had been the staunchest ally of hers and her brother's other than the sons of Elrond. And though Rínior wanted nothing to do with anyone who wasn't Elladan or Elrohir, she did miss her conversations with Glorfindel. "I hope you are well, or as well as may be expected in these dark days."
"Indeed, I am. Let us speak no more of the darkness beyond our borders, tonight, unless Lord Elrond desires it." He turned to Elrond.
Elrond shook his head. "For a night, we may eat in peace. Let us enjoy it."
Maedeth did her best. She spoke about Tiniel and Mírien in Fornost. She told tales of Rínior's victories. And while she was loath to speak of herself, for she found very little worth discussing that she took part in if it wasn't in a council chamber, she did heap praise on Elladan and Celebrían for their part in Arthedain's transition of power.
"You sell yourself short, as usual, Maedeth," Celebrían said. She put down her knife and fork, turning to her. "I saw how the nobles of Arthedain looked at you. There is great love for you and the kindnesses you do for them."
Glorfindel nodded. "You need not fight in battle like Rínior to do great deeds. And I judge that your deeds are great, indeed."
Elrond and Erestor agreed. For a moment, Maedeth felt quite small, a half-elf of doomed blood amidst such great lords and ladies of the Eldar. Here she did not feel constrained, like she did in Arthedain at times. She wondered if Elrond had ever felt like this when he fought beside High King Gil-Galad.
The feasting ended and revelry began across the way in the Hall of Fire. But she had no desire to partake in these. She found more than just bright stars and cold hair upon exiting the Last Homely House.
Elladan and Elrohir stood chatting out front. The former sat on the steps, lounging as he stared up at his twin still in riding gear and wearing his sword. At her entrance, both looked up. Elrohir grinned at her.
"Maedeth! How are you?" He pushed past his brother and gave her a quick hug. "Still finding things to do in Fornost?"
She smiled. "You know me, Elrohir. Always busy, even if I wish not to be. I've heard your father wanted you out of Rivendell and being productive, though."
He laughed. But then he turned back to Elladan. "She's much better company than you. You should bring her back more often!"
Elladan smiled and laughed as well. "You will get no argument from me. I have always thought Maedeth better company than you."
With a short laugh, Elrohir turned back to her. "How's your brother? He has been away with his company for months. I haven't had the chance to join him. Glorfindel grew concerned for our own borders," he said. "I've been helping secure them."
Maedeth frowned. She did not wish to speak of Rínior here. So she suggested they retire to some place out of the way. Elrohir's face fell, but he agreed without question.
They took a walk in the Gardens of Imladris. She wanted to remain under the stars, not inside four walls and a roof where her thoughts would wander unchecked. Settling on a bench, Elladan and Elrohir standing or pacing near her, she told them of her fears for Rínior.
"I know I have no reason to believe he is in any more danger than usual," she said, "but I cannot shake this feeling. There is a pit in my stomach, growing ever darker. I fear he is in grave danger."
Elrohir's hand tightened on his sword hilt. "I know of few warriors stronger than Rínior. But those he fights for are often tired, hungry, and scared. These can be recipes for disaster."
"You think he was involved in the skirmish in the Downs?" Elladan asked her.
Maedeth nodded. "I do. Or, perhaps I fear it more than I think it. It is possible. Nay, it is likely that I am stressed for nothing. He has been known to patrol the borders of Arthedain without making contact for much longer than this."
Elrohir shook his head. He offered her a tight smile. "Rínior is like a brother to me, as well. I will leave tonight, and either bring him back to safety or bring news that he is, as usual, being an annoying if incredibly skilled leader."
Maedeth laughed at his joke. She felt better already, though the thick fog of fear did not lift from her completely. "Thank you, Elrohir."
"I will inform our father and then leave right away." He gave her a quick hug. "Fear not, Maedeth. Luck has not left Rínior in all five hundred years I've seen him fighting on the front lines. I do not believe it has left him now."
He nodded once to both of them before heading out. She didn't move from her spot on the bench, trying to believe Elrohir's words. But she just couldn't, not fully.
Elladan sat beside her. A gentle breeze caressed the flowers and trees in the gardens. Not far from them, she listened to the gentle whistles and trills of nightingales. Here there was peace. Few places in Middle Earth now felt like this. Maedeth took a slow, deep breath.
"I am sorry you fear so much for Rínior," Elladan said. He paused for a moment, looking up into the trees. Then he shook his head. "I find myself fearing for Elrohir in much the same way. And he for me, if I were to guess."
Maedeth nodded. "I know. And here I am, putting your brother in further danger."
Elladan turned to her. He shook his head. "Nay, do not apologize. My brother finds his own way. I would not be surprised if he would have sought Rínior on his own, unprompted, soon enough. You know they hunt together as much as they can." He shrugged. "Indeed, I also would join him. But I know I have other duties, and they are duties I would not put aside for anything."
Another breeze, stronger, pushed through the gardens. Maedeth wrapped her arms closer. The chill here could not compare to that of Fornost but she wore a dress more designed for fairer days under the sun than those in the north. Elladan passed her his cloak.
"Thank you," she said, smiling at him. He didn't look away, and Maedeth felt heat rising to her cheeks. Her throat ran dry. But before she could say anything, gaze locked with his, she heard footsteps.
Celebrían turned the corner. She shot them half a smile as Maedeth straightened up. "When I saw Elrohir rushing from the garden I figured I would find you here. And Elladan, are you not supposed to be resting?"
Elladan straightened up as well. He stood up from the bench, folding his arms. "I did. And then Elrohir got back."
"Ah, yes. A classic." She chuckled. "A thousand years have passed and you two still blame each other for everything."
With a roll of his eyes, he just turned and walked away. "Fine, then I will go find sleep."
Celebrían didn't respond. She just took his spot beside Maedeth on the bench, who instantly felt the woman's gaze on Elladan's cloak around her shoulders. But she said nothing of it.
"We will decide the next course of action tomorrow," Celebrían said. She sighed. "I fear there is little time for you to wait in Rivendell."
"Indeed," Maedeth said. "I would not wait even if you and Lord Elrond asked it of me."
Celebrían nodded. They sat in silence for a moment. The song of the nightingales crescendoed with the moon's zenith. The breeze died down.
"You should rest as well, Maedeth."
Maedeth knew it. Celebrían could not order her around as a mother, but she knew wisdom when she heard it, and Celebrían always spoke wiser than most. She bid her goodnight, leaving Elladan's cloak, and stole back to the Guest House. There would be much to do with the dawn. She would soon leave peace behind.