Chapter 2 - “Living in the Past”

Just for a change, Penny was panicking.

Well, actually, to be more accurate she was flapping.

Less than an hour before she had been formally invited by Lord Elrond to accompany him and most of the residents of Imladris when they left for Minas Tirith in a week’s time. She had sat in his study blinking at him like an owl for a moment. Her mouth opened, then closed.

He had to bloody joking, didn’t he!

“Pen-ii?” Elrond had asked, a slightly amused expression on his face.

“I... I thank you, Lord Elrond. Truly.”

Penny flushed a little. She had known that nearly everyone in Imladris was going to be going, but had not been entirely certain if that included her or not, though quite what else she would have done were she not to go with them all to Minas Tirith she had not been exactly sure. She had felt to shy to ask anyone, though. Now it seemed that it did include her, but she still felt this was a great honour and one she felt she really did not deserve.

She said as much.

“Do not forget there will be a long, hard journey ahead of us, also,” Elrond had said, a soft smile on his face and a slightly mischievous twinkle in his eye. “You may not consider it such an honour after three weeks in the saddle. Besides, you know that all Imladris will be coming, I am sure. We thought it as well to let you know that we wished you to join us.”

So that was that and now she was flapping. Big time. She was going to THE wedding of the Age and she had nothing to wear. Not that she knew what one wore to the marriage of the Last of the Numenorean Kings and the only daughter of Gil-galad’s right-hand man (or should that be ‘right-hand elf’?), but whatever it was she was pretty sure she did not have it.

She was now rifling through her six dresses, assessing them all. There was one that she had not worn that often, if only because she liked it most. It was pale green with a little lace on the cuffs and neck. That one, then, would have to do.

“Oh, Pen-ii! I am so glad you will be coming with us all. I had thought you would be, but you had not said anything.” Mireth was positively bouncing on the bed in Penny’s chambers.

Penny shook her head, still not quite believing it. “Well, it will be good practice, I suppose, for next year,” she grinned at Mireth.

Eleniel giggled. “Well, yes, we are all looking forward to that, Mireth.”

Mireth flushed a little and fiddled with the silver ring she now wore. She and Celebdor had finally got betrothed a few weeks after the war was over. They had held off before then, thinking it inappropriate to do otherwise while so much else of far greater importance was going on.

And there had, indeed, been more important things happening.

The day after Halbarad left Penny told Elrond everything. There was a lot to tell and it took most of the day. Elrond related some of it to Erestor, Glorfindel and Arwen, and though not all it was enough that they knew of the major events. Glorfindel, Erestor and Elrond then questioned her closely about the happenings in the north, and she was forced to admit she knew very little.

“Lothlorien will be attacked from Dol Guldur. More than once, I think. Afterwards Celeborn destroys Dol Guldur.” She did not know the Sindarin or Westron for Mirkwood or Dale, so showed them on maps where else she knew of there being battles.

“And here?” Glorfindel asked her. “What of Imladris?”

She shook her head. “I do not know, Lord Glorfindel. Forgive me. Nothing is said of it. I do know that Mithrandir thought that if Smaug were alive Imladris would be attacked. Now Smaug is dead it may be there will be no attack – only on the east side of the mountains maybe. I do not know.”

The three nodded, their faces serious.

“No matter, Pen-ii,” Elrond reassured her. “We knew not to rely on you. I thank you, you may go.” She left them to discuss the details of the defence of the realm.

Within the weeks following the Dunedain’s departure, Imladris gradually emptied of most of the ellyn. After weeks of busy work sharpening swords and forging arrowheads, the craft huts and workshops now fell silent. Penny’s riding lessons ceased as Lindir went to the borders and a few days later Celebdor joined him.

Mireth became very quiet after that. Though she reassured Penny and Eleniel she was quite all right, they knew she was worrying about him.

“He’s a very capable warrior, Mireth,” Eleniel said to her. “You know that as well as I. He always does well in the hunts and the archery competitions. He can look after himself well enough. They all can. Any orcs that try anything will not have time to regret their foolishness.”

Mireth nodded and smiled weakly. Penny merely felt her nerves grip her, in spite of the victory she knew was to come. The reality of it all was hitting home to her. She had never been in such a situation where there was a very real possibility of ambush or attack.

“Will your father’s ring not help? To protect Imladris?” she asked Arwen when they were alone one day.

“It will indeed, but if they come with enough strength, they may break through. We cannot afford to rely on that alone. They do not do so in Lothlorien, nor do we here.”

Penny nodded and fell silent.

As did Imladris, it seemed, as everyone waited for a possible attack.

Lord Elrond stayed, of course, but much of his time seemed to be spent with Erestor in discussion. Occasionally someone would come back from the border with a report. Penny noticed that Elrond’s expression became grimmer each time she was aware of one of these ellyn arriving and leaving again almost as swiftly. She began to fear Imladris was going to be attacked after all.

All the while, of course, her thoughts were with the Fellowship, how they were faring, where they were and what they might be doing. She thought too of Halbarad, now riding south with his sons, and she wished him well, wished him a noble death if there was such a thing. She grieved for him, even though she knew he was not yet dead. She was furious for herself for doing it, and yet her knowledge that she would not see him again, that he would die, overwhelmed her sure knowledge that he was still alive. She found comfort in what both he and Lord Elrond had said to her before he had left. It meant she was better able to cope for the first few days after his departure, but she still wept at night, alone in her chambers. They were tears of frustration and helplessness as well as sorrow at his passing.

She considered trying to talk to Lady Arwen about it, but rejected that idea if only because the whole subject of mortality and how elves might view it would clearly be sensitive for her. She also chose not to speak to Elrond and for similar reasons. In the end she broached the subject with Erestor.

It had been just over two weeks after Halbarad had left, at the end of her daily lesson.

“I am very pleased, Pen-ii. You have come on remarkably. To tell you the truth, when we first started I thought it would be a much slower task, but you have proved me wrong. You have worked hard and it shows. You have done very well.”

“I thank you, Lord Erestor. I would not have been able to learn so much without you pushing me. And everyone else also. Mireth, Eleniel, Celebdor and Lindir never stop testing me. Bilba too.”

“Ah, yes. Well, we have Maura to thank for Bilba’s diligence. He started the Breakfast Sindarin Tests, did he not?” Erestor grinned.

“Yes, indeed.” Penny fell silent for a moment while she gathered together her papers and books. “Erestor?”

“Yes, Pen-ii?” He looked up from wiping clean the little blackboard. “What is it?”

“Can I ask you something? Not about language?”

“But of course.” He looked at her more closely and realised this was something serious. “Come. Sit.” He indicated two comfortable chairs near the doorway that opened out onto the gardens.

“I do not want to upset you.” She couldn’t think of the word for ‘offend.’ “It is about humans and elves. About death.”

Erestor seemed a little surprised. He had not expected that. “Umm... I see... ahh. Well, what did you want to ask?”

“I do not know, in truth. It’s just... I cannot talk to Lady Arwen or Lord Elrond about this.”

“And why not?” Erestor raised an eyebrow.

Penny looked a little surprised. “Because of Aragorn and Lady Arwen’s choice.”

Erestor regarded her for a moment. “Lady Pen-ii, you must understand that choice was made some time ago. You will not offend either of them if you ask them about mortality, in general terms, at least. I understand, though, that you were trying to be polite and not upset them. You need not have feared, I do not think. Perhaps, though, it is as well you chose to speak to me. What did you want to know?”

“Lord Elrond spoke a little of it before...” She faltered and then continued quietly, “Before Halbarad left.”

Erestor nodded but said nothing.

“How do you bear it? How do you behave when you know that someone will die? Forgive me; I am not phrasing this well. I hope you understand me.”

“I do indeed, Pen-ii. It is something all the Eldar must get used to, even without foreknowledge.” Erestor shifted forward in his seat a little and looked at her kindly. “It is never easy. The pain does not get less with every friend you lose. Yet it is also the way of things. It always has been with the Second Born. That the First Born do not age and die while the Second Born do is Eru’s Will. He knows best what is best for us. There is much comfort in that knowledge.”

Penny nodded. That was something she had only recently been able to start thinking about and get her head round: that if all this was real, then so was Valinor, so were Maia and Valar... and so, therefore, was Eru Illuvatar. For someone who had never been terribly religious, that was a very strange notion. Erestor was right, though, it was surprisingly comforting.

“I feel bad because I am behaving as if Halbarad is dead now.” Erestor could see she was having difficulty saying this, that her eyes were wet with unshed tears. “I know he is alive, yet I know I will... I will not see him... again. Is that wrong?”

“There is no right or wrong way to react, Pen-ii. You have to cope as best you can. It is hard for you: you are not used to this. We elves see it in you mortals every time we look at you. That might be difficult for you to understand, but it is there nonetheless. Do not forget we can die also. There may be friends of mine, dear elves I have known centuries, who may fall in Lothlorien or by Thranduil’s side before all this is over. Perhaps even here in Imladris if we are attacked: friends of us both are at the borders of this realm.”

Penny nodded. “Forgive me, Erestor. Of course this is harder for you all than for me.”

“No, Pen-ii. Not at all. I am sorry I cannot give you any comfort more than that you have to learn to accept. Halbarad went south in the knowledge that he went to war and what that might mean. So did every male who went with him, including Elrond’s own sons. So did every male whom you have seen leave in recent days, such as Lindir or Celebdor. There may come a day soon when Lord Elrond and myself will join them. We will both do so willingly, no matter the outcome.”

Penny looked at him for a moment, his kind grey eyes watching her, his dark hair flowing past his shoulders and shining slightly in the mid-morning sun coming through the double doors. She gave him a faint smile and nodded.

“I thank you, Erestor,” she murmured. “It is so strange for me, so different. I am not used to war or soldiers. Even in my time this would be strange.”

“I realise, Pen-ii,” he replied quietly. “You are welcome to talk to me any time. I know it is hard for you, and not simply because of the knowledge you possess. It helps a little, I think, to have told us what you know, has it not?”

“Very much.”

“We thought it would,” Erestor smiled. “We were concerned at one point that you would say nothing at all. You would not have had the strength for that, Pen-ii, not given the amount and detail of your knowledge. I say that even as one who has not been told nearly half of what you recounted to Lord Elrond. It was the right thing to do, as Mithrandir himself advised you.”

Penny nodded and they fell silent for a moment.

“I can’t stop thinking about them, about Halbarad and about them all.”

“That is to be expected. All our thoughts are with them. With Maura in particular. In that you are not alone, Pen-ii.”

That was true enough. She knew Bilbo was thinking of Frodo constantly.

Bilbo and Penny had maintained their daily tea ritual, much to the amusement of the elves of Imladris who clearly considered tea a revolting beverage. Bilbo would make a pot for them to share every morning for breakfast, while at four every day Penny would bring a freshly made pot and a pile of cakes to Bilbo in a small antechamber, just as the hobbits had asked her to do before they left.

Erestor would join them nearly every day if he could, but others would come also. Mireth and Eleniel would often make an appearance, and Bilbo was always particularly pleased to see them if Eleniel brought one of her freshly made honeyed seed cakes with her.

Erestor and Bilbo had also kept up their attempt to introduce Penny to various classic elvish works by reading to her over afternoon tea. She had now, at last, begun to understand bits and to respond and comment, showing she was able to follow the story or what was being said. This meant that, at last, she was able to go over some of the ancient tales with them both, and with Lord Elrond at other times, and so provide herself, and them, with a pleasant enough distraction from their thoughts and worries for an hour or so.

It all meant that she and Bilbo had become quite close. They looked out for each other. Not that Bilbo needed looking out for, by any means. He had told Penny as much if he felt she started fussing.

“I know that, Bilba, but I promised Kali I would keep an eye on you. Though, I actually think he asked me so you would look after me, not the other way around.”

“Well, yes, if truth be told. You are an intelligent young woman, Lady Pen- ii, and I know you realise they were a little worried you would miss them once they were gone.”

“And you do not?”

“Of course I miss them. But I had already left them once in Sûza and, if truth be told, I had not expected to see them all again. Maura, perhaps, but not the others.” A warm smile had spread across his face. “I do miss Sûza sometimes. Not every kuduk that lives there, I will admit,” he chuckled. “But I miss the rolling greens and my little house. Only for a moment, mind.” He wagged a finger at her. “Only for a moment. If I had my choice (and I do) I would plump for Imladris every time. It is delightful here, and there is nothing to beat the company of elves. Nothing other than a few select kuduk with some fine ale and a pipe, mind you, but you can’t have everything.” He grinned.

He put a brave face on it, but she knew he was often thinking about Maura, worrying that he was safe. Of an evening they would sometimes play draughts together and, if she were a little late in getting to him in the chamber where they played in front of the fire, she would sometimes find him out on a balcony staring southeast, in the direction of Mordor. She would cough discreetly or make some noise on entering so as to notify him of her presence and he would turn, smiling at her affably enough. Yet she could see the tension in his jaw, the slight tightening of skin round his eyes.

“He will be fine, Bilba,” she would murmur at such times. “You must not worry.”

“I know, I know. He is a strong kuduk, that one. But then, as my relation, I would expect him to be.”

He would smile at her.

Then proceed to beat her soundly at draughts. Every time. Without fail.

As March progressed, a palpable tension developed in the air. With most of the males gone, it was now only females working in the kitchens and stables. The garden was entirely under Mireth’s supervision, and she had little time for anything else since, it being early spring, there was much to be done. Penny helped her as much as she could.

Then, at about the same time as the attacks on Lothlorien, as far as Penny could judge, there were attacks on Imladris. Not that Penny was aware of them when they actually happened: in the halls they heard nothing, nor saw one single orc. There were minor skirmishes on the borders, though. Mainly wolves, apparently, and orcs with a few wild-looking men and, while not nearly in anything like the numbers faced on the other side of the mountains, it was enough to keep things busy every now and then. Riders came back bearing the wounded if the injury was more than could be dealt with on the border, and one elf was killed.

Penny felt more useless than she ever had in her life. At Mireth’s direction she cut various herbs and plants from the gardens for poultices and dressings within a few minutes of the first rider coming back with an ellon behind him, an arrow wound to his upper arm and a nasty gash on his thigh. Lord Elrond, of course, supervised the healing of the wounded, but Penny witnessed little of it.
She did, however, see the dead elf before he was buried. He was laid out in a small basement chamber, candles round his body. Mireth and Eleniel took Penny to pay her respects. She presumed that it would be, at most, perhaps someone whose face she might recognise. She was shocked, however, when she saw she did indeed know him.

It was the first ellon she had met at Imladris: the one who had greeted her and Halbarad before they had crossed the river so many months before. They had spoken little since then, but always greeted each other, and he had been most courteous in his manner with her. She had got the impression he was quite a good friend of Lindir’s since whenever he was back from patrol for a few days he invariably sat with Lindir at mealtimes. She even knew his name: Narion.

The expressions on the faces of the elves around her spoke volumes. Death was so much more shocking for them when it was one of their own. Penny could not have put into words the sorrow and distress she could feel from them all. That night the place was filled with lamentations and sad songs as they buried him.

Those males who had stayed at the halls now wandered round Imladris fully armed at all times, including Erestor and Elrond, just to be on the safe side. In the event, there was nothing more than those few sporadic scuffles on the borders, and there was no full-scale attack on Rivendell. Afterwards Glorfindel admitted to Penny that it might have been very different if Dale and Mirkwood had fallen and been overrun.

“They would have come over the mountains then, even if they were still battling in Lothlorien.”

Penny remembered what she had read of Gandalf’s reasoning regarding Smaug and knew Glorfindel was probably right.

Then, in mid-March, she was in the kitchen gardens weeding when there was a cry from one of the elleth working nearby. She looked up to see the elleth shielding her eyes, staring up into the sky. Penny looked skyward herself but could see nothing at first. Then, as Mireth came over to her, her own gaze turned upwards also now, Penny saw it: a speck, like a distant bird, wheeling in the sky.

“You see them?” Mireth had asked her.

“Them? There is more than one?”

“There are many. The great eagles. It is rare to see so many flying at once.”

Penny squinted. She could not see many, only two more, so presumed most were out of her range of sight. The few she could see were flying southeast, though. It could only mean one thing.

She had begun running, then. Fast.

She had no idea why, but she felt she needed to tell Elrond, or at least Erestor. She came first to Erestor’s study and found it empty, so she hared down the corridors to Elrond’s chambers.

Before she reached them she felt it: a faint tremor. It was not an earthquake - nothing had shaken or fallen or broken. She had not even stumbled as she ran. Yet there was a definite faint rumbling in the stone beneath her feet.

She skidded to a halt, knowing what it had to mean. She was astonished it could be felt this far north.

It was over.

She had lost track, in the end, of what happened when. She had known it all happened in the first half of March but, as much as she had wracked her brains, she had not been able to remember the exact dates. It had meant she could not remember the exact day of the Battle of the Pelennor, and so when Halbarad died. Now she knew for certain he was gone. If the eagles were flying, if she had just felt the collapse of Barad-dûr and Sauron’s fall, then he would have died several days before.

She slid to the floor and wept.

She heard a door open further down the corridor but did not look up. She did not, of course, hear the elf approach her but a familiar voice said her name softly. Erestor crouched beside her, laying a hand on her shoulder.

“Pen-ii, what is it?”

She just shook her head.

“It is over, Pen-ii. We can feel it. Like a great cloud has been lifted from us. Lord Elrond has felt it very strongly.”

She looked up at him, her eyes wet. “I know. I saw the eagles. I came to tell you and then I felt it. I... it means... I could not remember the dates, Erestor. I did not know when... Halbarad...”

Erestor held her as she wept softly. She wept for Halbarad, though she had grieved much for him already and had come to terms with his loss in large part. She wept for all that she knew for certain had transpired, what everyone had gone through. She also, though it was selfish perhaps, wept with relief. She no longer had to carry this huge weight on herself any longer.

There was the scouring of the Shire still, of course, but the hobbits would prove their status and worth amongst their own in dealing with that. It would not be nearly so difficult knowing of that and saying nothing.

The ellyn did not return from the borders for several days since they were doing what they could to hunt down the last of any orc or wolves within a few miles of their borders.

When they did return, they came in a large group and bearing several deer, so there was a huge feast that night. Penny sat with Lindir, Mireth, Eleniel and Celebdor and thoroughly enjoyed herself. Arwen commented to her father that she looked more relaxed and unburdened than they had possibly ever seen her. She was glad to see it.

Afterwards, the evening being mild enough, there was singing and dancing in a clearing in the gardens rather than in one of the larger rooms in the halls. Penny steadfastly ignored Mireth’s pleas for her to join in, shaking her head furiously. While the pace had been relatively slow for many of the dance tunes, and the footwork not complex by any means, one had to know when to turn, when to move and in which direction. Besides, every elf there had, of course, the poise and elegance of a ballet dancer. She would not have the faintest idea of what to do and would have the grace of a walrus.

If she tried it, she would make a complete fool of herself. No bloody way was she dancing.

“Right, that’s it!” A voice next to her startled her from her thoughts. “This next one is very easy, and you have to learn sometime. Come on!”

Lindir ignored her protests and dragged her, struggling against his hold on her wrist, into the middle of the clearing.

“Lindir, please...” she hissed, glancing around her nervously, convinced every elf in the place was now sniggering at her expense. She could feel she was already flushing with embarrassment and the dance had not even started yet.

“No use, Pen-ii,” he grinned at her. “My mind is set. You will learn this if it kills me. Considering how hopeless you were with a horse when I first met you and can ride with a little skill these days, I think I can guide you through your first elvish dance tune. Just follow me.”

She had no time to respond as he manhandled her to face opposite him, holding her right hand in his, before the music started.

In the event it was an easy dance. It was slow and graceful, without any of the complicated criss-crossing, multiple turns and partner-swaps some of the others had entailed. She did manage to look hesitant and as stiff as a board at the beginning, keeping her eyes fixed on Lindir’s movements in near terror as she tried to copy or mirror him. Since most of it seemed to involve walking arm and arm with him in a circle, the two of them turning round each other, or touching hands briefly to part once more, she got the hang of it quickly enough. By the end she was actually enjoying it.

Lindir looked quite smug as he led her back to the little bench where Mireth and Celebdor sat.

“See? Told you I could get her to do it,” he grinned at Mireth.

“Well, you certainly had more luck persuading her than I,” laughed Mireth.

“Persuading? He dragged me. I had no choice,” spluttered Penny.

“Are you complaining, young lady?” Lindir raised an eyebrow at her.

“No. I thank you, Lindir. Really.” She held up her hand as he opened his mouth, “And no, I will not dance another one. That was enough, I think.”

They shook their heads at her, laughing. In the event, after plying her with a couple of glasses of strong wine, Lindir did manage to drag her off for two more dances, but even then it was a battle. The two had become good friends since the ‘River Incident’ and, since her language skills had improved, both had found they had a similar sense of humour.

Many of the elves in Rivendell were courteous towards Penny, but showed little inclination to get to know her better other than those she saw most on a daily basis. Elrond and Arwen had been very kind and supportive, were always there if she needed them, but were still the Lord of Imladris and his daughter, and as often as she had spoken to them, she still kept a sense of formality with them on some level. Glorfindel she had barely seen since he was nearly always on patrol or guarding the borders, but he always had a smile and a few words for her when they met. Erestor had become a friend, particularly since she was better able to communicate, but of a very different kind to Mireth, Eleniel, Celebdor and Lindir who were the four she had really got closest to.

With some amusement, Penny watched as Erestor danced with Arwen, as Elrond even joined in several times. Glorfindel was terribly elegant and seemed to enjoy the more vigorous dances in particular. He was positively grinning as he whirled an elleth on his arm on occasion.

At last she felt that it was late, and she was a little drunk, and she had better leave before Lindir convinced her to do something really daft like attempt some hopelessly complicated dance, or else persuade her to sing.

He had been desperately pushing her to sing a native song from her ‘home country’ for weeks, and she had managed to resist so far, claiming not to remember any or to have a dreadful singing voice.

“Worse than a hound,” she had grinned at him. Lindir had laughed loudly.

No song she knew would be suitable for elvish ears, if only because most pop songs would be considered deeply bizarre in wording, tune, rhythm or all three. The only thing she knew that was even vaguely like a ‘folk song’ was ‘On Ilkley Moor Bar Tat,’ and she really didn’t think that would be appropriate. Likely enough Erestor would be able to translate some of it, given how much English he had now learnt from her. Meeting lovers in the open air, dying and then being eaten by things was not likely to be considered amusing in the least.

No, she was leaving now. Lindir caught her, though.

“Off so soon?”

“Soon?” she laughed. “Others have already left. It is late, I am tired, and I have drunk too much wine.”

“One can never have too much wine,” Lindir grinned.

“You need me to remind you? A river bank? Naked?”

Lindir narrowed his eyes and flushed a little. Penny snickered.

“’Night, Lindir.”

He grinned after her, shaking his head.

In the month or so since the feast, life had fallen into an easy routine. The gardens were blossoming and, while Penny no longer had a Sindarin lesson every day, Erestor now had her practising her reading by getting her to read out loud selected passages from the Lays and Tales lining his bookshelves. She had discovered that, while only relatively good at pot throwing, she was better at decorating them. She could not achieve the level of intricacy, delicacy and detail that typified the elvish style, but her simple yet colourful designs both intrigued and delighted the potters. They assured her that they would sell very well and that they would make sure she earned from any that sold at the Bree market or elsewhere.

She had started feeling quite at home in Rivendell. Now, though, as she held up the green dress to herself with Mireth and Eleniel nodding their approval at her, she could feel the butterflies in her stomach.

She would see Lothlorien, Galadriel, Rohan, Minas Tirith. She would... she would SEE the mountains of Mordor, the ruins of Osgiliath... God, she would ride across the Pelennor itself!

Penny’s head reeled.

Now that she thought about it, she was not sure if she was looking forward to this.

Just a reminder: Maura, Sûza, Bilba, Kali & kuduk are the Westron for Frodo, the Shire, Bilbo, Merry & hobbit(s) respectively.

There was no record of an attack on Imladris, which is why I have made it only mild skirmishes on the border and nothing more. The entire area was filled with wolves, and Bree was on high alert when the hobbits returned there after the war due to the things wandering abroad and the bad men in the area – loads coming from Isengard, don’t forget - as well as the fact that the Rangers are no longer about protecting the area since they have gone to war. While the main target would have been Dale, Erebor, Mirkwood and Lothlorien, it is not inconceivable that Imladris would not have escaped entirely unscathed.

Oh, and ‘draughts’ is, in UK English, what ‘checkers’ is, I believe, in US English. I would remind people that I am a Brit so I use UK English spellings/references.

Ellon - male elf

Ellyn - male elves

Elleth - female elf.