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Tâd Edhel a Firion   by Fiondil

XIII: Dream a Little Dream of Arwen

Two days later, Elrond and Glorfindel left the village with Estel firmly strapped into the horse litter. Thranduil and Legolas had left the day before along with Halgaladh, Maedrust, Laslaerion and Galadhor as well as with half the warriors, leaving the other half to accompany Elrond, Glorfindel and Estel.

Halgaladh and Maedrust were a bit disappointed at not having had a chance at the boar, but both agreed that Lord Aragorn deserved the honor of the tusks and they volunteered to carry them back to the Stronghold for him. The boar’s meat was given to the villagers, which they gratefully accepted.

Elrond took a few moments on the day they left to check the two elflings and bring them out of healing sleep. He assured Ereglos and Gaelfinnel that the children were fully recovered but suggested to Gilgelair that the oak trees be felled to remove any further temptation. The leader of the village agreed wholeheartedly.

Estel had wakened the morning before long enough for Legolas to say goodbye. He was surprised to see his adar and Glorfindel there and wondered aloud what kind of punishment he would receive for being stupid again, but Elrond assured him with a light laugh that any punishment the elf-lord could devise would pale against the punishment Estel had already received just by having the boar fall on him.

"You will be a long time mending, iôn nîn," Elrond said. "As soon as you have healed enough you must begin doing exercises to strengthen the muscles around your hip or you will suffer stiffness in the joint for the rest of your life. But the first thing we need to do is get you back to the Stronghold."

When they finally left it was with the gratitude of the villagers for the young mortal who had risked his life to save their lost elflings. None there would forget that and already one of the villagers was composing a suitable lay to commemorate the event.

They spent three days traveling. Elrond would not allow them to move too quickly and often stopped to check on his patient. Estel drifted in and out of consciousness, never staying awake very long.

"Why don’t you put him into healing sleep?" Glorfindel asked when they stopped the first night at one of the villages. Word had been sent by Thranduil for the villages to offer whatever aid Elrond deemed necessary for the comfort of his foster son.

Elrond shook his head. "I need him awake to tell me about the pain. Once we’re at the Stronghold I will put him into healing sleep, but not before. He will be very uncomfortable for the next couple of days, but there’s no help for that."

Luckily the weather held for most of the trip back to the Stronghold but while they were still several hours away on the third day the sky darkened and snow fell. Elrond stopped to gather as many blankets as he could to cover Estel up, even covering his face to keep the snow off it. The cavalcade moved more slowly then and they were nearly two hours late arriving. The snow never ceased the entire time and at one point Elrond ordered a fire to be lit so he could brew some hot tea to give to Estel who had begun to shiver in spite of all the blankets. Thus it was nearly dark before they reached the causeway.

Nessiel was there along with Thranduil and Legolas waiting with torches.

"I was wondering if you would make it back tonight," Thranduil said once they were all inside the Gate.

"I had thought to stop for the night," Elrond said, shaking the snow off his cloak, "but your guards assured me we were less than a mile from the Stronghold, so we continued on. Nessiel, I need some hot compresses for Estel’s hip and we need to address the fever he has contracted as well."

Nessiel nodded and gave instructions to the guards carrying the litter to follow her.

"I will have something hot brought to you, Elrond," Thranduil said, taking Elrond’s cloak for him. "Go and take care of your son."

Elrond smiled gratefully and with a nod to Glorfindel followed after Nessiel.

"How is he Glorfindel?" Legolas asked once Elrond was out of sight.

"Estel? Better than expected."

"No, I mean, Lord Elrond. How is he holding up?"

The golden-haired warrior gave the Woodland prince an appraising look. "He is holding his own. Once he was assured that Estel was in no danger of dying he allowed himself to relax. Now he is simply the healer who will do all in his power to assure that Estel recovers fully."

"I would delay the trade conference for their sake," Thranduil said, "but this has been a long time in the planning and cannot be postponed."

"Elrond understands that, Thranduil. Do not worry on his account. If you wish I will attend on his behalf. There is little I can do in the infirmary except get in the way and a boring trade conference is just the thing to keep my mind occupied."

Thranduil and Legolas both grinned at that and then Thranduil invited Glorfindel to have dinner with them once he had freshened up and Glorfindel accepted.

****

Once Estel was safely in healing sleep there was little more that Elrond could do, save to rouse him twice a day to take some liquids and attend to his other needs. Nessiel insisted the elf-lord take some rest.

"You will do him little good if you collapse from exhaustion yourself," the healer had said. "Go and relax. Attend one of the feasts in honor of the conference."

Elrond reluctantly agreed and in fact recognized the truth of the other healer’s words. He found that spending an evening listening to the Wood Elves singing and watching them dance did much to revive his spirits and his mood improved dramatically afterwards.

Mithrandir stayed long enough to see that Estel was being well taken care of and then one morning could not be found. None had seen him leave the night before and none knew when he might return.

"Though I suspect he will not stay away too long," Thranduil said to Elrond and Glorfindel as they had breakfast together. "He will want to know how your hapless chick is coming along."

For nearly two weeks Estel remained in healing sleep. The trade conference had concluded some days before to the satisfaction of all. Dain had taken pains to inquire after the Dúnadan’s condition each day, much to Elrond’s surprise, and had spoken admiringly of the young Man’s courage. Halgaladh and Maedrust had cleaned the boar’s tusks and all admired their size and wondered at the mortal’s bravery in facing such a fearsome beast.

Narwain was three-fourths over when Estel finally roused from healing sleep. At first, looking about the infirmary, he could not fathom where he was or how he had gotten there, but slowly memory returned and he gasped.

Elrond was there instantly at the sound and offered the Man some water which he took gratefully.

"How long have I been asleep?" Estel asked, after having his fill.

"Twelve days," came the reply. "It is now the twenty-fourth of Narwain."

"What happened to the children?"

Elrond looked down on his foster son with a smile. "Never fear. They were rescued and have recovered quite nicely. I went to the village a few days ago to check on them. I only just returned last night. Do you know they are singing songs about your deeds?"

Estel looked at Elrond in surprise and then grimaced. "No doubt reveling at the stupidity of mortals."

Elrond shook his head. "On the contrary. They cannot praise you enough. Even elves would hesitate to confront such a fearsome creature in its maddened state yet you held steady. It was a remarkable feat and I am very proud of you, iôn nîn."

Estel visibly glowed at the praise from his adar.

Over the next few days Estel had several visitors, though each visit was kept short on Nessiel’s and Elrond’s orders. The first visitor was Legolas followed by, of all people, Eirien, who proved to be a very soothing visitor and Estel felt less tired when she left. Others came by to offer good wishes and once Halgaladh snuck in with some sticky buns from the breakfast sideboard. He and Estel had eaten most of them before Nessiel discovered them and ordered the ellon out, though not before grabbing the last sticky bun for herself, much to Estel’s amusement.

As Narwain made way for Nínui, Elrond changed the splint on Estel’s leg so as to give him more mobility above the knee.

"We must begin exercising the hip muscles or you will be lame for the rest of your life."

The first time Elrond manipulated the hip, showing Estel the movements he needed to make, the mortal turned dead white and fainted. He came to some minutes later to find Glorfindel holding his head in his lap and bathing his forehead with a cool cloth.

Elrond stood over him, his eyes full of sorrow at the pain he was causing. "I am sorry, iôn nîn. This has to be done."

Estel clenched his teeth and nodded as Elrond began the manipulation again. This time he managed to remain conscious but only just. Afterwards he lay in Glorfindel’s arms weeping softly from exhaustion as the golden-haired elf sang to him until he fell asleep.

Over the next few days Estel dreaded the times Elrond or Nessiel came to do his exercises but as the days went by the pain was less excruciating, though he always felt drained and often slept for hours afterwards.

And during those times Estel dreamed.

At first the dreams were nebulous and disjointed but after a time they began to take on a sense of reality that he often found hard to dissociate from his waking life. And in all these dreams Arwen played a major role.

The first dreams seemed to take place in and around Imladris when Estel first met Arwen in the woods, believing her to be Lúthien reborn. Often in his dreams he found himself running after her, but, unlike in reality, she would never turn around to face him. It left him feeling frustrated and out of temper when he woke. Both Elrond and Nessiel noticed these mood swings but said nothing at first.

Later the dreams changed to reflect more closely what had actually occurred between them at their first meeting, but with a difference. In these dreams Arwen would stop and turn and they would speak as they had in waking life. Then Estel would find himself kissing his beloved, first chastely, then more passionately, but to his surprise Arwen would return his passion with her own deep kisses and the fire that swept through him would cause him to wake abruptly and with embarrassing results, though neither Elrond nor Nessiel bothered to comment when they came in the morning to give Estel his morning bath.

Nessiel, in fact, found herself consulting Elrond about what was happening and Elrond had to reassure her that the phenomenon was quite common among mortals at Aragorn’s stage of life and was nothing to be concerned about.

"His body suffered gross damage and is attempting to repair itself. Sometimes the body tries to overcompensate in its attempts. Aragorn’s dreams I suspect are a product of overcompensation."

Eventually the dreams concerning Arwen changed again. Now he was no longer in Imladris, but where he was he did not know. The landscape was unfamiliar, yet not threatening. He would find himself walking towards a mound where stood a stand of golden-leaf trees the like of which he had never seen before in his waking life. Flowers, gold and white, dotted the mound beneath the trees and Arwen would be standing there, as if waiting for his arrival. These scenes were often gentle and sweet and they would exchange rings and kiss but the kisses were not as passionate, yet more satisfying than the earlier dream kisses. Whenever he woke from one of these dreams he felt happy and experienced less pain. Both healers rejoiced when this occurred.

During this time his exercises continued. At first Elrond and Nessiel took turns with the exercises but soon others volunteered, thus giving them the opportunity to visit with Estel for a few minutes while helping him with his exercises. Even Thranduil came once and helped the mortal through a particularly grueling episode that left Estel wringing with sweat. Elrond walked in sometime later to find Thranduil sitting patiently by Estel’s bed holding the chamber pot while Estel threw up, a consequence of the nausea he sometimes felt while doing the exercises.

There were days when Estel despaired, feeling that he wasn’t getting anywhere in his recovery, but Elrond and Nessiel both assured him that this was not so and that they were pleased by the progress he was making.

"Your leg is healing well and in a couple of days we will be removing the splint," his adar told him one day when he was feeling particularly low. "Then the real work will begin."

Estel looked up at Elrond with a wondering expression. "What—"

"We will see about getting you to stand. I have already had crutches made for you. Someone will be by later today to measure you so the height will be correct."

Estel both dreaded and looked forward to the day when he would be allowed to stand. It would mean freedom from the tyranny of the chamber pot (as he put it once to Legolas) but as a healer himself he knew it would mean a whole different level of pain to be endured.

And so it proved.

The first time he was allowed to stand he could only endure the pain for a few seconds before he was collapsing on the bed. Elrond had to give him a double dose of willow bark tea to relieve the pain. They tried again later in the day and Estel was able to stand for nearly five minutes before collapsing again. He groaned with disappointment but Elrond told him that he was doing better than expected.

"It will take time, iôn nîn, but you will get there."

Estel was not so easily convinced, but each day he found he could stand for longer periods of time and on the third day he was even allowed to take a few faltering steps that left him breathless but in a better mood than he had been lately.

The day he was able, with some help from Glorfindel, who was ‘on duty’ that day, to make it to the privy (though he needed Elrond’s help as well to make it back) was a turning point in the young Man’s healing and his dreams began to reflect that.

They still featured Arwen, but now both of them seemed older somehow and they were in a stone city. He thought it must be Minas Tirith, though he had never seen the city of Anárion in waking life. The two of them were often sitting in a garden behind high walls, usually alone but sometimes there would be a small child — boy or girl; it was never the same child — playing at their feet. They did not speak in these dreams but often sat there holding hands, content with their world.

These dreams left Estel with a sense of well-being that he did not always experience even in waking life and he wondered if they weren’t a foretelling as sometimes came upon him or just wishful thinking. He wished that Mithrandir were still there to talk to. He did not feel comfortable speaking to any of the elves about his dreams, even Legolas, who did not know about his love for Arwen.

Legolas had let slip once that he had visited Imladris some centuries before and had met Arwen. There was some intimation that both families had hoped for a union between them, but Legolas told Estel that both of them knew they were not right for each other, though neither could say why. Estel decided then that he would never mention Arwen and his hopes for them to Legolas for fear of offending his friend.

Six weeks to the day of the encounter with the boar, Estel was able to walk to the privy and back without aid except for the crutches which Elrond told him he would need to use for another couple of weeks. He still continued with his exercises though now he often did them on his own. Two days later, he was permitted to take a real bath and to dress, with some care and lots of help. By the end of the week he was back in his own rooms and sleeping in his own bed.

It was now the middle of Nínui and the weather had turned nasty outside the Stronghold. Often the rain was mixed with snow and left the ground a frozen sludge. Legolas assured Estel that he was not missing anything by being forced to stay inside. Now that he was getting better, Estel found himself feeling bored by inactivity. The elves began to devise ways of keeping their mortal guest occupied.

Dain of Erebor sent him a beautifully carved draughts board and he and Legolas and their friends would often gather in the evenings and take turns playing. Thranduil allowed him access to his personal library, for which Estel was especially grateful. It was not as extensive as Elrond’s library in Imladris but it contained several volumes he had never read before and one or two of his favorites that he read again for the sheer pleasure of doing so. Eirien carved him a small flute and taught him to play though they both agreed he had little talent for it. They enjoyed themselves nonetheless, often spending the time simply talking. Estel found he looked forward to his ‘lessons’ with Eirien more and more.

****

Rhîw was over and Echuir was well underway when Mithrandir returned to the Stronghold. He appeared as mysteriously as he had disappeared, showing up at the Great Gate on a wet morning during the last week of Nínui. Thranduil met him in the Great Hall where he had been holding an early morning court.

"I’ve come to see how Aragorn is doing," the Wizard said after greeting the king with a bow.

"I suspected as much," Thranduil said with a smile, coming down from the dais to greet the Wizard. "Come, I will take you to him. He as begun walking again though he must use crutches still."

"His recovery is much quicker than I would expect."

Thranduil nodded. "For most mortals yes, but he is not like most mortals, is he?"

Mithrandir looked thoughtful.

They found Estel in the dining hall for it was still early enough for people to be lingering over their tea after breakfast. He was sitting with Legolas as was their habit. Elrond was not there but Glorfindel was. When the Wizard arrived Estel’s face lit up with pleasure, much to the elves’ amusement.

"Well, well. I see you are much improved since last I saw you," Mithrandir said approvingly as he approached the table where Estel was sitting. "Nay, nay, do not get up, for I am going to sit down. It was a wet and weary walk this past week and I am looking forward to a warm bed and warmer food."

"Let me get you some breakfast, Mithrandir," Legolas said, standing up and going to the sideboard. He returned in a short while with a plate full of eggs and bacon and toast and a bowl of creamy porridge. The old Wizard sighed with contentment at the sight of the food.

"Now this is more like it."

Thranduil, who had already broken his fast, took his leave of them, promising to see them all later at luncheon. The others resumed their conversation after Mithrandir indicated he wanted to devote himself to eating. In between bites, though, he watched the mortal sitting across from him speaking animatedly with Legolas and Glorfindel. He had obviously lost weight, for his clothes hung loosely about him. His face had the pallor of one who has been long ill and has not seen the sun in some time, and while there was a residue of pain in his eyes they were bright and lively and his laughter was genuine and unforced.

Satisfied with what he saw he took a sip of tea and joined in the conversation.

"I take it that you are planning a trip once Elrond releases you from those crutches," he said to Estel who nodded.

"Adar says that as soon as I can walk unaided and with no difficulty I am to start riding again, though I have to use a saddle for now." He grimaced at that but Glorfindel only nodded.

"Your leg is still weak, youngling. You still have to build up the strength of the muscles, especially around the hip. We don’t want you falling off and reinjuring yourself." He grinned and continued. "Don’t worry. Mithfaron will understand and won’t be offended."

"Where do you mean to go?"

Legolas answered. "Not far, actually, only to the nearest village and back and only when there is no likelihood of rain or snow. Lord Elrond does not wish for Aragorn to suffer any more than necessary."

Mithrandir nodded in understanding and said with a knowing smile, "Yes, I imagine your first time on a horse will prove more tiring than you think. I suspect young man that before you even reach that first village you will be wanting your own bed again."

"That is if he makes it to the first village," chimed in Glorfindel with a wicked smile. The others laughed good-naturedly.

Estel grimaced and look down. He knew they were just teasing him but he’d been looking forward to riding again and getting out of the Stronghold. He hoped his own weakness didn’t spoil things for him.

Mithrandir gave him a shrewd glance and bending down so their heads nearly met whispered, "You’ll do well enough, young Estel. Never fear."

Estel looked up and saw the confidence in the Wizard’s eyes and smiled back.

The Wizard patted him on the arm. "Good, good. Now why don’t you show me how well you get around on those crutches."

Estel complied and in a short while they were all leaving the dining hall, though not together. Legolas had duties to which he must attend and Glorfindel was going riding. He had taken it upon himself to see that Estel’s horse was adequately exercised while his young master was convalescing.

When the two elves had taken their leave Mithrandir suggested to Estel that they go to the Sam Eiliant to talk. Estel hesitated at that.

"I am not sure I can climb the slope of the corridor even though it is not very steep. I have been keeping to the level areas of the Stronghold."

"Why don’t we give it a try nonetheless, heh?" the Wizard asked encouragingly. "If it proves too much for your strength, we can turn back and talk elsewhere."

Estel nodded and they continued on their way. Mithrandir did not bother to try to maintain a conversation with the Man, allowing Estel to concentrate on walking. They took their time. Once they reached the Great Hall, which was empty during this time of the day, they made their way behind the throne dais. Estel stopped and took a deep breath. This would be a test of his stamina and he did not think he would succeed. He still tired easily and his right leg and hip pained him after standing on it for any length of time.

Mithrandir looked at him with sympathy. "We will take this as slowly as you need to, Aragorn. There is no rush, but I think if you can reach the Sam Eiliant you will feel much better about yourself."

Estel nodded and began walking. The corridor leading to the Sam Eiliant wound gently around the core of the mountain, its slope barely noticeable but still evident, especially towards the end. Along the way, though, there were alcoves niched out of the walls where one could sit and Estel took advantage of them whenever he felt himself flagging.

He was not sure how long it took them to reach the end, but he suspected it was far longer than the usual amount of time. Mithrandir was the soul of patience, gently encouraging without being patronizing and seemingly in no hurry himself.

At last they reached the Sam Eiliant and Estel breathed a sigh of relief as he sat down on the nearest bench, too fatigued at the moment to notice or care about the play of light which always delighted him whenever he came there. He was nearly dripping with sweat and his breathing was somewhat ragged. Mithrandir sat beside him and offered him a clean rag with which to wipe his brow and then handed him a small flask.

"Take a couple of sips of this," the Wizard said.

Estel unstopped the flask and the most delicious smell came forth. He looked at the Wizard in surprise. "This is miruvor. How —"

"I met Elrond on the way to the dining hall and asked if I could borrow some."

Estel stared at Mithrandir for a long moment. "Adar already knows that you planned this." It was not a question.

Mithrandir nodded. "Your adar thought you might have need of it by the time you made it here. Now have a sip. It will restore you and give you strength for the walk back down."

Estel nodded and took a careful sip or two and almost instantly felt refreshed, the pain in his leg receding to a more manageable throb. He restoppered the flask and handed it back to the Wizard with his thanks.

"Now tell me what has been happening with you, Aragorn."

Estel related the last few weeks, the interminable stretch of time as his body slowly healed, the exercises for his hip and how the elves had devised myriad ways to entertain him when he was feeling bored. Mithrandir smiled and nodded but made little comment, letting the young Man ramble as he wished. Finally Estel came to a halt.

For several moments there was silence between them. Mithrandir looked thoughtful. Estel spent the time admiring the play of light on the fountain. Finally, Mithrandir spoke, his tone gentle.

"Is there not more that you wish to tell me, Aragorn?"

Estel glanced at the Wizard then looked away, blushing. Mithrandir’s eyebrow went up but he made no other comment. Finally, after taking a couple of deep breaths Estel began telling the Wizard about his dreams. And even though he was at pains to leave out the more embarrassing details of some of them the Wizard was able to guess at what wasn’t said and smiled inwardly to himself.

"Do you think they mean anything, Mithrandir?" Estel asked at the end of his recital, sounding not a little anxious.

Mithrandir took a moment before speaking. "I do not think you need concern yourself with them right now, mellon nîn. Your body was giving you something else to think about besides the pain you were experiencing while you were healing. Something a bit more pleasant if I’m not mistaken." The Wizard smiled teasingly and Estel grinned and ducked his head.

But in truth the Wizard was disturbed by what he had heard. Estel’s description of the mound with the flowers and trees was too precise. It was obvious he had been dreaming of Cerin Amroth in Lothlórien, yet he knew that Estel had never been there. He supposed the lad could have overheard someone in Imladris describing it, one of his brothers perhaps, but the level of detail was too great and he suspected the dream was more likely a vision.

As for the stone city...

The Wizard decided he would have to think more on what he had heard before coming to a conclusion. In the meantime he took pains to reassure the mortal that his dreams were nothing of import and should not concern him over much. Mithrandir could see the relief in Estel’s eyes at his words. Only time will tell if the lad’s dreams are truly just dreams or something more, the Wizard reflected to himself. He debated as to whether he should speak to Elrond about them but decided against it. He had promised Aragorn that what was spoken between them would remain between them and he held himself to that promise. Besides, he knew that Aragorn would never agree to Mithrandir discussing his dreams with anyone else, let alone with his adar. There were some matters to which even the Lord of Imladris need not be privy.

When Estel had rested enough they started the long walk back. At least they were going downslope. Still, by the end of it Estel was nearly reeling with fatigue and Mithrandir had to call to a couple of elves whom they met in the Great Hall to help Estel back to his rooms.

By now it was nearly noon, but Estel was too worn out to want to go to the dining room, so one of the elves, an elleth named Galueth, offered to bring him something to eat, for which he was grateful. Mithrandir kept him company while they waited for the elleth to return with Estel’s meal. When Galueth returned, though, she not only brought enough food for them both, but right behind her came Legolas and Elrond, both looking concerned.

Elrond, ever the healer, immediately checked his foster son for fever and then spent a couple of minutes examining his leg and hip until he was satisfied that Estel was suffering from nothing more than fatigue.

"I suspect you will sleep deeply tonight, iôn nîn," the elf-lord said once he was finished examining the young Man.

Legolas offered to keep Estel company and share the meal with him while Elrond and Mithrandir went to join Thranduil for luncheon. The two friends then enjoyed a quiet meal together. Afterwards, though, Estel pleaded fatigue and Legolas took his leave.

"Perhaps if you are up to it this evening you would like to attend a small gathering of my friends," he said as he stood up to go. "We will be practicing some of the music for the New Year."

"That’s almost a month away," Estel said in surprise.

Legolas nodded. "Yes, but we usually begin preparing special music for the New Year around now when the weather is often too miserable."

"Then I would like to join you, if I’m feeling up to it." Estel grinned slyly. "I’ll even bring my flute."

Legolas laughed. "In that case, maybe we should just forget it." He ducked when Estel threw a pillow at him.

****

Two days later Estel found himself at the entrance of the Great Hall with what seemed like half the residents of the Stronghold on hand to watch him as he attempted to cross to the dais without aid of crutches. When his adar had told him during breakfast that he wished to see the young Man walk unaided, Estel had thought they would do it in private, perhaps at the infirmary where he would walk a few feet one way and then back the other. The elves had other ideas and led him to the Great Hall.

Thranduil was standing on the dais along with Elrond and Nessiel, Glorfindel and Mithrandir, while Legolas had elected to walk along side his friend and catch him if it looked as if he might collapse. Maedrust joined them. Estel eyed the distance to the dais nervously.

"Just take it slow," Legolas advised. "There is no rush."

"You skewered a maddened boar with little fuss, Lord Aragorn," Maedrust said, grinning. "This should be nothing in comparison."

"But when I skewered the boar I didn’t have an audience," Estel protested with a sigh and the two elves laughed. Legolas gently removed the crutches and Maedrust held him up until he felt steady enough to stand on his own. Then, taking a deep breath, he began to slowly walk across the room, keeping his eyes resolutely on his adar, not thinking of how far he had to walk to reach him.

His steps were slow and awkward, and once or twice he thought he would lose his balance but caught himself in time. About halfway across he had to stop to wipe the sweat out of his eyes. Legolas and Maedrust continued to offer him soft words of encouragement. No one else in the Great Hall made a sound. Elrond stood at the foot of the dais waiting, his arms out and beckoning. He didn’t think he would be able to make it the rest of the way for he was beginning to feel dizzy with the effort of keeping upright, but somehow he found himself lurching into his adar’s arms just as he felt himself collapsing. All around him he could hear the elves applauding and cheering and offering him congratulations but the only words that mattered to him were the soft "Well done" that Elrond whispered into his ear as the elf-lord embraced him. Looking over Elrond’s shoulder he saw Glorfindel wink at him, while Thranduil gave him a grave nod as a captain saluting one of his warriors who had achieved a great victory.

The king then issued an order and one of the elves quickly came forward with a chair for Estel to sit in and he gratefully sank into it, eagerly accepting a goblet of watered wine from Mithrandir, who also winked at him. Looking about he saw everyone standing there with huge grins on their faces and he had to smile.

"And now for my next trick," he said softly into his goblet, but the elves all heard him and the laughter was loud and long.

Afterwards, Elrond assured the mortal that he was pleased with his progress. "We will see how well you do on a horse tomorrow, iôn nîn, and if all goes well you may ride to the nearest village the day after that."

Estel breathed a sigh of relief. He had not been outside for nearly two months, for even when he was getting around with crutches Elrond would not let him go any further than the Great Gate. The ground outside was too wet and too treacherous for him to walk on.

When Elrond deemed him sufficiently recovered, he allowed Estel to get up again, although he insisted the Man continue using the crutches for the rest of the day. Legolas invited him to join with him and his friends as they continued working on the music for the New Year celebration and Estel accepted.

"We will have a feast tonight in your honor, Lord Aragorn," Thranduil said, clapping the Man on his shoulder, "to celebrate this victory."

Everyone cheered and the impromptu gathering began to break up. Soon only Thranduil, Elrond, Glorfindel and Mithrandir stood in the Great Hall except for the usual guards and Thranduil’s steward who was busy at a sideboard pouring some wine for them all at Thranduil’s request. Glorfindel noticed Elrond smiling at nothing. "What are you smiling about, Elrond?"

Elrond chuckled. "I was just remembering Arwen."

For a moment Glorfindel did not understand the reference and then a certain memory arose and he started laughing himself. "Oh, Valar, yes. How could I have forgotten?"

Thranduil looked at his two guests with impatient amusement. "Care to let the rest of us in on the joke?"

Elrond turned to the elven king. "The day Arwen learned to walk on her own, Valandil, the then king of Arnor, arrived for a visit...."

**** 

Valandil and his retinue rode across the last bridge into Imladris to find that there was no one there to greet them. Reining in his horse before the front porch of the main house, Valandil glanced around, wondering where Elrond and the others were, while in the back of his mind he noticed how much everything had remained the same since his own youth growing up there. He turned to his captain, Mardil, with a sardonic look.

"Are you sure we’re here on the right day, Mardil?"

Before the young captain could answer his lord, the doors of the house opened and a venerable elf stepped out.

"Erestor!" Valandil called out, alighting from his horse. "I was beginning to think Imladris had been deserted. Where are Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrían?"

Erestor smiled and gave the king of Arnor a brief but respectful bow, then allowed the human to take him into a bone-crushing hug. "You must forgive Lord Elrond, your Highness," the elf said with a faint smile. "He and his wife and most of Imladris are somewhat engaged. Please come in."

Valandil raised an eyebrow at these words, then turned to Mardil and said, "Take the horses to the stables, Mardil, you know where they are, and then you and your men may join us, if that is all right with you, Erestor."

Erestor nodded. "If you come through the back porch, someone will take you to the king’s apartments. They are all ready for you, Highness."

Mardil nodded and gave a salute that was given equally to his king and the elf before wheeling his horse and leading the retinue around to the stables. Valandil put his arm around Elrond’s chief administrator as they entered the house and said, "Now Erestor, what is going on? And when are you finally going to call me by my name? You’ve addressed me as ‘your Highness’ since I was a youth racing through the halls of Imladris."

"And I will continue to address you as ‘your Highness’ whether you race through the halls of Imladris or not," Erestor said with a slight smile and Valandil laughed. "But as for your first question, today little Arwen is taking her very first steps and all of Imladris is on hand to watch."

Valandil laughed again. "Well in that case, I will forgive the Lord of Imladris for snubbing his royal guest at the door," then winked to show that he was joking. Erestor’s smile merely deepened.

Inside, Erestor led the king into the Hall of Fire. At first, Valandil’s eyes saw nothing, for the hall was dim, as always, the only source of light the fire blazing merrily in the center. Eventually, though, as his old eyes adjusted, he saw Elrond at one end of the hall surrounded by others, while a silver-haired elf knelt some ways away with his arms outstretched. Valandil gasped quietly as he realized that this could be none other than Lord Celeborn of Lothlórien, which meant that the tall golden-haired elleth standing imperiously next to Elrond had to be the Lady Galadriel. Valandil turned towards Erestor with a silent question, and the elf merely nodded, motioning for him to make his way to where Elrond was standing. It was only then that he noticed that Celebrían was bent over, holding the hands of an elfling who teetered on her feet, trying to find her balance.

This, then, must be Arwen, born only six or seven months earlier, as dark of hair as her adar. Her face was scrunched up in concentration, and then, as Celebrían slowly let go of her daughter’s hands, the elleth began drunkenly to cross the floor, her eyes fixed on her daerada waiting for her with outstretched arms. Almost by common consent, he and Erestor stopped to watch, both holding their breaths, as were most of the other adults in the room.

Slowly the child made her way barefoot across the floor but about halfway there seemed to lose her balance and with an audible plop landed square on her bottom. Before any of the adults could rush to her aid, though, the elleth screwed up her face, clenched her tiny fists and pounded them on the floor in frustration while screaming "Pweenorch!" at the top of her lungs, then struggled back up onto her feet with determined zeal.

Celebrían gasped. "What did she say? Pweenorch? What does that mean?"

But it was Elrohir who divined the meaning of the word and in open astonishment fell to his knees, laughing uproariously, gasping out, "Pui-en-orch. She’s trying to say ‘pui-en-orch’."

At this most of the rest of the adults, including Valandil, who had since joined the group around Elrond, started laughing. Elrond, Valandil noticed, tried to look upset but failed, his eyes glittering with amusement. Celebrían, however, looked shocked and dismayed, and deciding on the most likely culprits rounded on her two sons and exclaimed, "You taught her that, didn’t you? How could you?"

Elladan, who had joined his brother on the floor in laughter, raised his hands in protest. "I swear, naneth, neither of us taught her to say that. I think you can safely lay the blame on Glorfindel for this one. It is, after all, one of his most favorite words on the training field. She must have picked it up from him."

Celebrían turned to the golden-haired elf and glared at him, but Glorfindel just laughed and shrugged his shoulders. "I’m sorry Celebrían," — not sounding at all repentant, — "I’ll try to control my language on the training field from now on."

Celebrían merely huffed, but her mother smiled thinly at Glorfindel and said in a quiet voice that nevertheless sent shivers up Valandil’s spine, "I’ve always suspected that you were a bad influence on my daerhîn, Glorfindel, and now I have proof."

Glorfindel merely shook his head and with a smile retorted, "And it takes one to know one, doesn’t it, Galadriel?"

Valandil was glad to see he wasn’t the only one to visibly cringe at these words, but remarkably, the most powerful elf in Middle-earth gave a light laugh and answered with a single word: "Indeed."

In the meantime, little Arwen, completely oblivious to the furor her tantrum had caused, was intent only on reaching her goal — her beloved daerada’s arms.

Valandil had seen many remarkable things in his long (for a mortal) life, but it was the sight of the silver-haired Lord of Lothlórien sitting cross-legged on the floor of the Hall of Fire hugging his youngest grandchild and laughingly teaching her the proper pronunciation of ‘pui-en-orch’ — much to the dismay of his wife and daughter — that he most treasured to the end of his days....

****

Thranduil and Mithrandir joined Elrond and Glorfindel in laughter at the story.

"I can’t believe you said that to Lady Galadriel, Glorfindel," the elven king finally said. "I’m surprised you’re still standing after that."

Glorfindel shook his head. "You forget, Thranduil, Galadriel and I knew each other in Valinor as elflings playing amidst the fountains of Tirion-on-Túna under the indulgent eyes of our nenith and nurses. Admittedly, she was a decade or so older than I, but our families were known to one another."

"An elfling, huh?" Thranduil said, accepting a goblet of wine from his steward. "So, what was she like back then?"

"Oh, I would say Galadriel’s mellowed somewhat over the millennia."

Thranduil sputtered, choking on his wine. "Mellowed? Galadriel? Not likely."

"Oh, if you think Galadriel is a terror now," Glorfindel responded with a wicked gleam in his eyes, "you should have seen her when she was but an elfling of twenty-five. Her mother didn’t name her ‘Nerwen’ for nothing, you know."

****

Nínui: February.

Echuir: Stirring, which begins on 4 Nínui.

Miruvor: Elvish cordial, rarely, if ever, offered to mortals.

Daerada: Grandpapa.

Daerhîn: Grandchildren.

Pui-en-orch: Orcspit, assuming a noun pui derived from the attested Sindarin verb puia-, inf. puio "to spit".

Nerwen: Man-maid; Galadriel's mother-name.

Historical Note: Valandil assumed the crown of Arnor in T.A. 10. His son, Eldacar, succeeded to the throne in 249. Arwen was born in 241.





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