Chapter Text
Little Thing Called Love
A soft spring breeze brings the sweet scent of hyacinth through my bedchamber window, making me smile at the reminder that spring has finally arrived here at Car Annûn . Not that the winter has been so bad this year-at least not weather wise. Indeed it has been a mild winter in that respect, though in that way only I am sorry to say.
For our household it has been quite arduous and difficult thanks to that cur, Dagnir, who spent three hellish weeks with us in the autumn before I figured out his game and sent him packing. I am still horrified to think that it took me that long to figure out what was taking place and put a stop to it. How that could have happened I do not know. I can only say that like Legolas, I never dreamed that an elf here in the Undying Lands would be so cruel and heartless toward a youngster of his own kind. It is unnatural is what it is and can only be the result of a truly twisted mind.
And then to find that others had also been abused made everything much worse, for my lad tends to take responsibility for things that he should not in spite of my constant assurance that none of the terrible things that had happened were his fault. It took most of the rest of the winter and a couple of very serious discussions for him to finally let go of the guilt that had been plaguing him. Even now I watch him very closely for I know what guilt and sorrow can do to an elf. These things have done more damage and lasted much longer than the physical hurts that he suffered at that rat’s hands and I fear that his misplaced remorse still hasn’t left him completely, though he seems to have come a long way in recovering. He hasn’t suffered from night terrors in some time and he no longer feels the need to stick close to me during the day. He would never admit it, of course, but for the first few weeks after we returned from Dagnir’s village he found reasons to spend his days working with me rather than on his own or finding things he needed my help with in the gardens.
I would never point it out either for I am happy to do whatever it takes to help him feel secure and safe and ‘noticing’ such things might wound his pride too much. He likes to give the appearance that he fears nothing and for the most part that is true. He has faced any number of terrible enemies in battle, often expecting to be killed in the process and done so without hesitation or thought for self-preservation. His prowess in battle is unmatched and together we made a force to be reckoned with, so well did we work together. I would not like to face him as a foe myself. Yet he is still very young and in need of strong guidance and regular reassurance. And having been raised to respect his elders and not to question their authority, Dagnir’s appalling actions were outside his realm of experience. Legolas honestly believed at first that Dagnir acted out of concern and a true desire to help and that he was the one at fault for what took place, and having believed that so strongly it became difficult to change that feeling in spite of evidence to the contrary.
So needless to say it has been a long winter and I am not sorry to see it end. I am sure the signs of new life all around us will have a healing effect and go a long way in helping my lad move on with life. In fact I believe it already has, for he pleaded with me last night to allow him to spend the night outdoors among the trees. I was not keen to do so since it is still early spring and the winds are cold at night, and it looked like it might rain. But I have to remember that no matter how much I love him and think of him as my own son, he is an elf, not a dwarf, and his way of finding comfort is often different from mine. I knew it would do him good, so I did not forbid this outing, even though I knew I would not sleep well myself with him out of my immediate supervision.
I did sleep, but fitfully, and I have been watching for his return since first light, though I’ll not be telling him that either. Just after sunrise I see him walking toward the house and looking more relaxed and happy than I have seen him in months, making me glad I granted his request to sleep among the trees. In a few minutes he bursts into my bedchamber, smiling and windblown and smelling like fresh air and sunshine. He leans down to kiss my cheek, wishing me a good morning as I laugh and pluck a dried oak leaf from his hair.
“Did ye have a good night among the squirrels?” I ask him.
“I did, but I am happy to be home again, mellon-nin.”
He then hurries to bathe and change and we go down to meet the household staff for first meal. It is usually a pleasant affair where everyone talks and makes plans for the day and today is no exception. The day looks to be turning off warm and sunny, so Gaearon and Legolas discuss tilling some of the southern slopes in order to begin planting our own grapes. Forodren and Hwiniol will be checking on the mares that are in foal and cows that are in calf, while Mistress Elanor and Mistress Glasiel organize a huge spring-cleaning of the house. I cannot imagine that anything around here could be that dirty since our housekeepers are scrupulous about keeping everything pristine, but I would not dare to challenge them on it. I have decided it is best to keep out of their way and so have planned a trip to Avallónë to pick up supplies we’ll need to begin work on west wing of the house.
Aerlinn, who has lately been spending her days in the greenhouses, announces that she will join the lads in tilling the slopes today instead since the weather has turned off so mild. This news makes Gaearon’s eyes light up, while Legolas looks at me and rolls his. I have to stifle a laugh at his dismay, for I alone know how tired he is of their ‘secret’ infatuation with one another. They are not officially courting, for that would mean dealing with concerned parents with nosy questions, chaperones and other issues of propriety. Indeed it is much easier to have a secret tryst now and then and moon over one another privately. And, at least in Gaearon’s case, wax lyrical over her many amazing qualities to his friends, whether said friend wants to hear about it or not.
Legolas hangs back for a moment after everyone has departed so he can grumble to me about his lot in life.
“Why don’t I go to Avallónë and you can till the hillsides,” he jokingly suggests. “It’s your turn to watch those two make eyes at each other while they ignore your presence.”
“Not a chance, laddie,” I chuckle. “It’s you that wants a vineyard. I’m perfectly happy with ale. Besides it can’t be all that bad.”
“Ha! That’s easy for you to say. You don’t have to listen to Gaearon day in and day out,” he complains and then changes his voice to supposedly sound like Gaearon’s, “Her eyes, her skin, her smile… the adorable way she walks, brushes her hair, eats oatmeal, digs a hole in the ground to plant an onion….”
By now I am laughing hard at his mocking imitation of poor love struck Gaearon.
“You are exaggerating, Laddie.”
“I’m not, Gimli, I swear it. It is positively sickening”
“Well you mustn’t be too hard on the lad,” I say, “You can hardly blame him for noticing Aerlinn as pretty and sweet as she is. It is only natural. Besides you may be just as bad someday if you meet the right lass.”
He wrinkles his nose distastefully at the thought.
“I would never be so ridiculous over a female,” he states.
“Ah well, you mustn’t speak too soon, Lamb,” I tease, “falling in love changes folks”
“Perhaps,” he says doubtfully, “but if I ever act like that for any reason, you have my consent to strangle me before I drive all of my friends mad!”
“I’ll keep it in mind,” I promise, laughing again. “but for now, we’d both best be getting on with the day. Dinna expect me until past dark, lamb. I’ll stop in and see the folks at New Imladris while I’m away and it could take some time if there is any news.” When he seems a little disappointed I add, “I shall be home before you retire for the night and I’ll tell you the news from New Imladris and Avallónë, I promise.”
He seems mollified with that and so I go on my way happy in the knowledge that I will be missed at home while I am away. As it turns out, I am even later than I originally expected, for my journey turns out to be fairly eventful, for Lord Elrond had a request of me.
It seems that only two days ago he received a visit from young Tàras and his father Master Mirdan for the lad hadn’t been recovering as quickly from the ordeal with Dagnir as his folks thought he should and they were seeking Lord Elrond’s opinion on what could be done for him. The once lively and talkative youngster has become quiet and withdrawn after his return from Dagnir’s village and everyone is quite worried for him.
“Emotional wounds are the most devastating at times,” Elrond explains to me, “especially for a young elf, such as Tàras, who has likely never experienced such mistreatment. Such things are all but unheard of here.”
“Aye, that is so,” I agree, speaking from experience. “The poor lad has had a difficult time of it.”
“Indeed. I had intended to write to you to ask for your assistance, but you have saved me the trouble of doing so. It is quite providential that you are here, for I believe you might be able to help. If it is no trouble of course.”
Of course I am willing to do whatever I can for the lad for I have grown quite fond of him and hate to think of such a high-spirited, curious boy being brought low by an abusive bully such as that snake, Dagnir. It would mean the son of an orc had accomplished his goal and that will never do.
“It is no trouble,” I assure Lord Elrond.
“I thought you would say so,” he smiles. “Master Mirdan was quite grateful to you for getting to the bottom of what was troubling young Tàras before. He seems to be comfortable with you and the folks at Car Annûn, and since his visit was cut short before, I thought perhaps...”
“Oh, aye, I see what ye are saying,” I tell him. “I will call on his family after I’ve finished my business in Avallónë.”
So that is how I come to arrive home with more than just building supplies and foodstuff. When I invite Tàras’ to visit us, his mother seems reluctant to let him out of her sight, and no wonder, for the lad has grown even thinner than before and quite pale. But Master Mirdan sees the sense in it, and it is easy to see that the elfling would like to come with me, so she gives in once I have reassured her that I will keep an eye on him and bring him home immediately if there is a problem.
The conversation on the ride home is mostly one sided, but Tàras seems to be comfortable in my presence even if he is quieter than usual. Once we have arrived, I leave the horses and wagon in Forodren’s care so that I can take care of our guest. Mistress Glasiel is mortified that she hasn’t got the guest chambers made up, but Tàras tells her he can build his own fire and make up the bed himself. Of course she will not hear of such a thing and hurries to summon Aerlinn, while encouraging Tàras to bring his things up to the guest room and then join Legolas in the sitting room, where he is awaiting my return.
This gives me just enough time to talk privately to Legolas and explain Lord Elrond’s request before Tàras somewhat shyly joins us.
Legolas looks surprised, but is quick to recover.
“Tàras! You cannot imagine how happy I am to see you,” he says. “It will be wonderful to spend time with an elf who can talk sense for a change.”
I can’t help laughing at this indication that he was less than impressed with the day he spent with Gaearon and Aerlinn. Tàras is pleased, if somewhat confused by this enthusiastic greeting, but then Legolas narrows his eyes suspiciously.
“You haven’t got a sweetheart have you?” he asks.
Tàras wrinkles his nose in disgust, making me laugh again. Poor Gaearon won’t be getting any sympathy there.
“Of course not!” He declares indignantly.
Legolas smiles again in relief.
“Thank the Valar for that!”