17: Taming

If any of them thought that the previous evening’s breakthrough with Thurin would continue unimpeded, they were quickly disabused of that idea the next morning.

The ellon slept beside the fire, wrapped in a blanket, while Maglor, excused from sentry duty, sat beside him, keeping watch. Glóredhel sat with him and together they quietly discussed how to go about teaching, or re-teaching, Thurin language.

“Tonight was a good start,” Maglor said at one point.

“But only a start,” Glóredhel said and Maglor nodded.

However, next morning when he awoke, Thurin proved unresponsive to those around him, refusing food and simply staring at the fire. Only the need to relieve himself caused him to pull himself out of his apathy, but once he was back by the fire, a pall of indifference settled over him again and he refused to accept any overtures by Maglor or others to engage him in the life of the community.

“I thought for sure that after last night he would be eager to regain speech,” Glóredhel said as she and Maglor sat on either side of Thurin, who ignored them both, content to stare into the fire.

“I think he is afraid,” Maglor replied.

“Afraid? Afraid of what?”

Maglor shrugged. “Afraid of where his memories might take him. Afraid of what it might mean to return to himself. He’s been alone for so long and has forgotten so much. It has to be frightening to suddenly remember something that should never have been forgotten. He needs time to accept that and I’m willing to give it to him. After all, we’re not going anywhere, are we?”

Glóredhel actually laughed and Thurin jerked his head in her direction, his eyes wide, though Maglor was not sure if it was in wonder or terror at the sound. He decided to take advantage of Thurin’s interest, tapping him on the shoulder to get his attention.

“Glóredhel,” he said, pointing to the elleth, then pointed at himself. “Maglor.” Pointing back at Glóredhel, he repeated her name and then did the same for himself. He did this a few more times then pointed at Thurin, saying his name. Then he pointed at the fire and named it, moving on to the benches on which they were sitting that had been constructed from the stones lying about. All the while, Thurin sat watching Maglor’s every move, but did not otherwise respond.

“Fire. Stone. Snow. Sky.” Maglor repeated those words, pointing appropriately. Thurin stared at him but Maglor could not tell if he was even getting through. He was not sure what he was expecting, though in the back of his mind he supposed he was hoping that the ellon would begin repeating the words after him, but he did not and when Maglor stopped naming things, Thurin returned to staring at the fire, ignoring everyone and everything around him.

Maglor resisted a sigh, giving Glóredhel, who had remained silent all this time, a rueful look. “I think it’s going to take some time to get through to him.”

“And we have plenty of that,” the elleth said with a nod. “Do not despair. I did not think he would immediately start orating, let alone repeat after you. He may not yet see a connection between the sounds you are making and the object to which you are pointing, but I think if we persevere he eventually will make those connections. Once he does, all else will flow. In the meantime, we just have to be patient.”

“You are correct,” Maglor said. “And patience is something I learned when I was raising Elrond and Elros. It took a long time for them to trust me enough not to try to kill me.” He chuckled at a particular memory of the twins at age fourteen rigging their bedroom with what they thought was a clever trap that they were sure would bring about his demise. It had not worked quite the way they had planned. He gave Thurin a fond smile as he thought of his foster sons, reaching down to stroke the ellon’s hair. Thurin did not respond to his ministrations, but Maglor thought he felt a lessening of tension in the ellon’s posture. Glóredhel remained silent, for which he was grateful.

“How is he doing?”

Maglor looked up to see Denethor standing there, a look of concern on his face.

“He won’t eat,” Maglor said, still stroking Thurin’s hair. “He seems to have retreated into himself. Last night might have been emotionally overwhelming for him and he just needs time to get used to things and us.”

Denethor nodded. “I came to tell you that Ragnor wishes to return to Mithlond with the purpose of finding where our friend hid out all this time. He thinks Thurin may have holed up in the foothills to the north of the city.”

“A logical conclusion seeing as how we never saw any evidence of him living in the city,” Maglor said. “I would go with him but I am needed here to work with Thurin.”

“And we all realize that,” Denethor said. “I merely came to let you know. Celepharn wishes to go with Ragnor, as does Voronwë.”

“And I understand why they want to, for I would love to go back with them. I suppose Glóredhel and I can deal with Thurin if Celepharn wishes to go with Ragnor. I would not like to see just those three going alone. I would recommend at least one or two others accompany them.”

“I agree. Sador has said he would go and I’ll see about sending one or two others with them. Not all can go, though I know that even the ellith are curious to see the city, but that will leave us defenseless and we still have to finish that aqueduct if we don’t want to spend the winter hauling water from the spring.”

“There’s no reason why we can’t send groups to the city though,” Glóredhel said, joining the conversation. “I think we need to have some people fishing or gathering the succulents that grow by the river before the weather turns against us.”

“Those who go with Ragnor could do that on their way back,” Denethor said, “but I agree that others should be permitted to go as well. Very well. I will think about it and let everyone know tonight. Perhaps two groups can go together. While Ragnor seeks to find Thurin’s home, others can be fishing and gathering. Those of us who remain here will continue working on the aqueduct and the other projects we discussed.”

“And I will certainly be happy to help in any way I can,” Maglor said. “Thurin should not have to take up all of my time though I accept him as my primary responsibility.”

“And mine,” Glóredhel added.

“Fair enough,” Denethor said. “In the meantime, perhaps you can convince our friend to eat. I can tell you the ellith were a little put out at him turning up his nose at their culinary efforts.”

Maglor grinned. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

Denethor shrugged, giving them a slight smile as he sauntered off. After a moment, Glóredhel spoke. “So, what are your plans?”

“For the moment, nothing,” Maglor replied. “There’s precious little we can do if Thurin refuses to respond to us. We will have to give him time. In the meanwhile, I’m going to go see what progress was made with the aqueduct and perhaps give them a hand.” With that he stood.

“I’ll join you,” Glóredhel said, rising.

Together, they started walking away, but stopped and turned to look at Thurin who had made some inarticulate noise, and they saw him shake his head, looking at them in dismay. He made a gesture of patting his head and Maglor realized the ellon wanted him to continue stroking his hair. He glanced at Glóredhel, who shrugged, and sighed.

“Come,” he said, gesturing to Thurin. “Come.”

But Thurin just sat there patting his head and making noises of distress. Glóredhel gave Maglor an amused look. “It looks as if you’re not going anywhere anytime soon, my lord.”

Maglor scowled but did not contradict her. He went back to the fire and sat beside Thurin, pushing the ellon’s hand out of the way so he could stroke his hair. Thurin gave a gurgle of pleasure and actually smiled, but his eyes never left the fire.

****

Later, one of the ellith came over with slivers of goat meat in a trencher. “Perhaps Thurin would like some,” she suggested as Maglor readily accepted the offering with his thanks. He noticed Thurin’s attention had been diverted with the ellith’s approach and his eyes lit up at the sight of the meat. Maglor decided to use the opportunity for another lesson, holding the trencher just out of Thurin’s reach.

“I will give you some,” he said, “but you must earn it.” He then pointed to Glóredhel. “Glóredhel. Can you say that? Glóredhel.” He repeated the name several times, each time giving Thurin the chance to repeat him, but the ellon just sat there looking confused and reaching for the trencher. Maglor stood up and held the trencher away, still pointing at Glóredhel, repeating her name. “If you can say it, I’ll give you some,” he said.

“You’re being cruel,” Glóredhel protested. “Can you not see he doesn’t understand what you want from him? He only knows you are denying him food.”

“I am not being cruel,” Maglor said. “I’m training him.”

“Like a dog?” she retorted sharply.

“Like an elfling,” Maglor responded. “Trust me, I had plenty of practice. Sometimes, what looks like cruelty is really kindness, for the elfling learns boundaries and proper responses. Right now, Thurin is more elfling than anything and we need to treat him as such until he can show his maturity.”

Thurin, meanwhile, had decided he wasn’t taking anything sitting down and leapt to his feet, making a grab for the trencher, giving them an inarticulate cry of frustration. Maglor nimbly stepped out of his way.

“Glóredhel. Say it, Thurin. Glóredhel.”

Thurin, however, had other ideas. He stooped down to pick up one of the rocks littering the ground, his eyes now dark with anger and murderous intent, and Maglor knew himself to be in danger, yet he could not back down, dared not, for to do so would be for Thurin to win and that would not do. He vaguely noted that several Elves had started toward them when they noticed the drama being played out.

“Thurin, no!” Glóredhel cried, rising to her feet. “Bad ellon. Put the rock down.”

Thurin actually stopped and stared at her, looking uncertain. Glóredhel had put on what Maglor considered the ‘angry nana’ look he well remembered from his own elflinghood and wondered if it was an acquired trait of all ellith, whether they had children or not.

“You are being naughty, Thurin,” Glóredhel said firmly even as she took the two steps that separated her from the ellon and pulled his arm down. “Drop the stone. Now.”

Amazingly, he did just that. Glóredhel nodded. “Very good. Now, say after me: please, Maglor. Can you say that? Please, Maglor.” She was now facing Maglor, holding out her hands as if in supplication. Maglor just stood there watching in fascination as Thurin actually imitated her gesture. “Please, Maglor. Please, Maglor. You can say it. I know you can. Please, Ma….”

“Pw…pw…pwees, Mahgr.”

Both of them stared at the ellon in surprise, neither of them actually expecting him to do as they wished. “Get him to say it again,” Maglor whispered, never taking his eyes off the ellon, who stood there with his arms out, still looking confused.

“Please, Maglor,” Glóredhel complied. “Can you say it again, Thurin? Please, Maglor.”

“Pwees, Mahgor.” Thurin’s expression was now one of anticipation.

“You said it!” Glóredhel cried, clapping her hands, and then surprised both Thurin and Maglor when she wrapped her arms around the ellon still standing there with his arms outstretched and kissed him on the cheek. “Now let him eat,” she commanded and Maglor grinned.

“Here you go, Thurin.” He held out the trencher for the ellon to take, which he did, stuffing the meat in his mouth as quickly as he could, as if he feared it would be taken away from him. Glóredhel stood there smiling fondly at him, the same sort of smile he recalled his own naneth giving him when he’d done something of which she had approved.

“So, perhaps I should let you take over Thurin’s education and go do something else,” he said in an off-hand manner. “You’re obviously better at this than I.”

Glóredhel gave him a surprised look. “It was a team effort. We did it together.”

“I suppose,” Maglor replied with a diffident shrug.

“There’s no ‘suppose’ about it, my lord,” she retorted, sounding angry and hurt at the same time. “It was a team effort and I won’t hear you say anything less.”

Maglor gave her a smile. “Yes, Nana.”

Glóredhel just snorted, her humor restored.

Thurin, meanwhile, had finished off the meat and was staring wistfully at the empty trencher. Then he held it out to Maglor. “Pwees, Mahgor.”

Maglor raised an eyebrow even as he took the trencher and held it out to one of the ellith standing near. “Our friend is still hungry, Amarthamíriel,” he said. The elleth smiled as she took the trencher and went to the other fire where she shaved off some more of the meat roasting over it. Thurin watched her every move.

“Why don’t we sit and relax?” Maglor suggested and Glóredhel nodded, taking Thurin’s arm to lead him back to the bench. “Come sit, Thurin. It’s more comfortable.”

Thurin allowed himself to be led back to the bench and Maglor joined them. When Amarthamíriel came back with the filled trencher, Maglor indicated that she should give it to him, then he turned to Thurin. “What do we say?”

Thurin frowned and reached for the trencher, but Maglor held it away from him. “What do we say, Thurin?”

Everyone around them remained still, waiting to see how the ellon would respond. Thurin blinked a couple of times, still frowning, and then his eyes brightened. He held out his hands, but not to grab. “Pwees, Mahgor,” he said in an entreating tone.

Maglor gave him a bright smile as he handed him the trencher. “Very good. Good ellon.” He patted Thurin on the shoulder in approval, but the ellon was too busy shoveling the meat into his mouth to pay him any more heed.

“It seems you’re getting through to him.”

Maglor looked up to see Denethor watching.

“It was a team effort,” he said, nodding at Glóredhel, “and this is just the beginning.”

“But a beginning nonetheless. Good work, both of you.” Denethor nodded approvingly before moving away to tend to other business. The other Elves murmured their own congratulations as they too drifted away, leaving Maglor and Glóredhel alone with Thurin once again.

****

Nana/Naneth: Mama/Mother.