Upon entering the house, I could see changes being made already. I nearly tripped over the baited trap at the door. Most of the furniture was gone and it looked very much like they were getting ready to move out. I knew differently and smiled at the changes I saw in the girls as well.
Gone was their whorish clothing, the red paint on their lips and the rouge from their cheeks. They looked more like ladies, and acted it, too, giggling behind their paper fans. Rows of wooden chairs had replaced the game tables and infested couches. It surprised me to see that Nora had found a slateboard so quickly.
“We ‘ad our first lesson tonight,” said the matron as I removed my cloak and hung it near the door.
“We’ve been taught etiquettes,” piped up Lacey, whose real name I learn was Shelna. “It ain’t proper to greet a man wif’ our breasts all poppin’ o’er the top an’ nipples ‘rect, yoo-hooo!” she said, displaying what she meant and getting tisked at by the matron. Shelna did not seem to notice as she continued, “Proper lady always curtseys, always pretends to be demure. Even if she ain’t, right Miss Nora?”
“Trust me,” whispered the matron as she dismissed the girls, “it sounds better’n it sounds.”
Instead of trying to decipher quite what she just said, I wander to the kitchen and take a jar of spiced peaches from the pantry. When I turn around, I find Nora standing behind me. “With the way you sneak around, are you sure you are not a half-elf?” I ask her.
“You’re bein’ so generous,” she said carefully, “but I need to know what your intentions are with ‘Oneypie. You might not think I care ‘bout my girls, but I do.”
“I just want to give her a chance. I think she will do well in Rivendell.”
“An’ you like ‘er.”
I hate to lie, even when I have to, so I nod to confirm her statement. “She happens to be very lovely and intelligent.”
Nora’s hard gaze softened. “Jus’ take care with ‘er. I ‘ate to see ‘er ‘eart broken.”
The next day we set off for home – Claire on the horse I rode here, while I ride Morir. Our travel is swift but not grueling, and I assure my beautiful companion we will be home soon.
On the first night, it was a clear, warm evening, and we camped beneath the stars. I delighted in holding Claire, one arm around her as she nestled beside me. I pointed out the stars and constellations to her, told her their stories. As she slept, I kept watch, much too excited to sleep. The sun rose, and we continued.
Dark clouds hung above us on the second day and forced us to make camp earlier than I had planned. The tiny tent I had barely covered both of us, but the atmosphere created by the rain and thunder was romantic – or so I had thought.
Once we were settled, snug in the tent, I nuzzled my nose against the back of her neck – and she pulled away slightly.
“Do you mind if we sleep a little? I am tired,” she said.
I did not wish to argue with her, but we Elves are very observant. I know when someone is tired; I can tell simply by their breathing, their eyes, the color of their skin. I acquiesced to her request – there was no need to argue. The next day, when we began the journey anew, I was more than aware of the fact she had not slept, and had likely been awake all night. I wished to ask why and what worried her, but she was mounted and already trotting away before I had the tent stowed in Morir’s saddlebags.
The return trip continued much in the same way. Claire grew more distant with each passing night. I feared I had said or done something, but when I finally gathered the courage to ask she assured me it was her, not I. Still it felt strange, after the intimacy we shared, that she should shy away.
Upon reaching Rivendell, her mood changed again. She delighted in the singing of the elflings and children playing in the river. I pointed out flora and fauna native to our realm, and introduced her to the delicacy of fresh fruit right from the trees.
“Is the weather always so perfect?” she asked in awe. “This is about the most beautiful spring day I could imagine!”
I plucked a flower from an overhanging tulip tree and stretched out to tuck it behind her ear. The small gift had her blushing. “It is as Lord Elrond commands – even the weather would dare not defy so powerful an Elvenlord. We shall meet him soon,” I promise.
Her arrival was quite the affair – Elrond and Celebrian were both pleasantly surprised at the new addition to the household, and welcomed her warmly. Glorfindel was his usual, charming self and laughed merrily as I told him of my adventure and how I adopted his name in my travels. I introduced Claire to everyone I knew, which is everyone in Rivendell, and to the horses, and the hounds, and then she begged for reprieve. I showed her to her chambers, and she quickly retired for the evening.
I had such plans for the next day. She needed new clothing and other items to furnish her quarters. I had no worries about the cost now that I was home. We had a brief argument over why the things she brought with her were unsuitable. It greatly puzzled me that she would not accept such a gift willingly.
To quell her anger, I suggested a walk in the gardens. Once again, she enjoyed the natural beauty of the realm. All disagreements seemed forgotten that evening when she allowed me to accompany her to dinner, escort her to the Hall of Fire, and then to her room afterwards.
A chaste kiss on the cheek was all I ventured, though I did remind her that should she be in need of anything, my room was only a few doors away. She thanked me, smiled wearily, and locked the door upon closing it.
I came the next day to escort her to breakfast. The third time that I worriedly knocked, she finally answered, though she looked quite cross.
“Good morning. I thought you might care for some breakfast, but I can see you have yet to dress. I can wait for you,” I offered.
She sighed and opened the door a little wider so she could reach up and pat my cheek. “I appreciate what you are doing, but you are beginning to – to stifle me.”
“What do you mean?” I asked in a voice both concerned and defensive.
Claire pulled her robe closer together where the neckline had been plunging, obviously aware of where my gaze had drifted. “You spoke of how wonderful it is here, and how much I would see and explore. Well, I can’t very well do so without the chance to see it on my own. I’m safe here – there’s no need to follow me around every moment.”
“But... I enjoy being with you,” I tried to explain to her.
“I know, and I enjoy our time together as well,” she said. I could tell her reply was an honest one. “I just wish for some time alone. Will you grant that to me?”
“I would give you anything in my power to give,” I assured her.
“Thank you.” She stepped on the tips of her toes, kissed me on the cheek, and went back inside her room.
Time is something I have never been a master of. If you asked my age, I could only tell you I am younger than the stars and older than the sun. It was this flaw that caused me to lose my young lover – though I suspect now she was never really mine to begin with.
I spent a few months keeping my distance. I was cordial when we passed in the hallway, friendly when we spoke, but I gave her the time I believed she wanted. Then, unexpectedly one day, I was in Elrond’s office discussing some political nonsense with him. The windows were open wide, the autumn breeze gently lifting the drapery that had been shoved to one side. I caught a glimpse of movement near the gazebo. It was Claire, her hair grown even longer now, hanging loosely and a little wild. She draped a cloth across the ground beneath an elm and settled down with a book.
I finished the meeting quickly, as my mind was wandering now to that blissful time spent in Bree. I hurried to the gardens and persuaded one of the ladies tending to the flowers to assist me in assembling a bouquet to take with me.
Those flowers saved me added embarrassment of the heartache that was to follow. I kept hidden, wishing to surprise her. As I checked to be sure my attire was not smudged with ink, I caught another bit of movement.
There was a man with her now, and he had a basket with him. They greeted each other as he set the basket down, and she began to empty the contents of it onto the blanket. I recognized him as Garren, one of the blacksmiths apprenticing in our forge.
I hardly breathed as I watched them talk and laugh. I could hear what they said, and every term of endearment numbed me. They were in love, that much was obvious. He had for her the same look in his eyes that I once did. The scene blurred, and I hurried away, lest I be caught in public crying over my loss.
I have had a lousy time trying to find love. My only consolation is the fact that each person I have loved had found their true love with someone else. If I cannot be happy, at least they shall be.
I apologize that my letter has gone on for so long, and with such intimate detail, but I found it easier to start from the beginning. Also, Claire told me that she had already told you much of what happened in those days when I was in your house, so I feel no shame in sharing my thoughts and feelings with you. Besides, I daresay, I can already see the grin on your face, knowing how well you like to read what some might call ‘back-alley literature’. I shall have to send you some of the poetry I have written; you would well like that as well.
I hope this letter finds you and the girls well. Let them know they are all to be considered proud aunts, for Claire birthed a healthy boy this morn, which she named after me. I insisted she not, but once her mind is set, according to her husband Garren, there is nothing to change it.
Perhaps some day you and some of the girls might make the trek here to see Claire and her family. I look forward to my next visit to Bree, where I shall need to continue to visit under an assumed name. In my writing to you, dear Lady Nora, I remain as ever,
Humbly and Sincerely,
Erestor
