Come the morning, Gilraen was in her new quarters and sleeping in a bed for the first time in many weeks. A crib had been placed in the room for little Aragorn, who slumbered soundly not far away. Elrond had assigned both a nanny and a maid to the newest additions to the house, but without specifically telling Gilraen their purpose on checking in on her. He could tell by her stubbornness that it was unlikely she would have accepted them knowingly, but disguised as well-intended ladies it might go over slightly better.
Gilraen was no fool, however, and dismissed them at the very sight without explanation. After delivering their report to Elrond, he himself ventured to her room to see if there was something the matter with his general concern.
He knocked on the door and was bidden to enter, and found Gilraen in the middle of making the bed and humming songs to her son. “Good day,” she said as he shut the door behind him.
“Good day to you, Gilraen. I trust you slept well last night?”
“As well as I am able. I am... adjusting,” she said. She shook it off without saying more, and changed the subject. “My son is hungry,” she stated directly. “I suppose there is a mess hall somewhere within your castle?”
Elrond could do nothing but laugh. “This is no castle, and I am no king,” he said almost apologetically. “A simple house is all, large as it seems. I am but master of these lands, but not of those who live and dwell here.” He reached for a pillow in order to assist her in her task, but it was snatched away gently and Gilraen finished the bed by herself.
“Whatever you wish to call your home, I shall as well. Is there a place for food to be had? I expect Aragorn shall fuss soon enough.”
“That was in fact what I came to tell you. Actually, it was what the maid would have told you, had you allowed her the time,” said Elrond.
“We need to speak about that,” said Gilraen. “I appreciate your concern, however, I am quite capable of taking care of my needs on my own.”
“I only thought you might enjoy some respite now and then, and for someone to assist you as you transition to life here in Rivendell,” Elrond explained. “They are both pleasant and trustworthy. I thought you might like to have some... friends while you are here.”
“I would prefer to choose my own friends, if you do not mind.”
Elrond slowly nodded. “I will respect your wish. If you require assistance, though, do not be surprised if you receive it despite your want of not being aided. Many who live here are helpful to one another on pure principal.”
“I shall make a note of that,” said Gilraen.
“I have arranged for you and your son to share breakfast at the head table with myself and other high ranking members of my staff, if you are amiable to it. My family will be there as well,” he added.
Gilraen seemed nonplussed at the fact that Elrond had already made plans for her, but she nodded in compliance. “I need to dress Aragorn before we can leave.” She moved to the crib, where Aragorn was standing up and bouncing happily up and down on the mattress. “Please give me a few minutes to ready him.”
“As you wish.” Elrond walked to the door. “Please tell me when you are ready. I will await you in the hall.” He left, but did not shut the door all the way.
It was a very short time before Gilraen emerged, with Aragorn clinging to her. “He is not yet eating completely solid foods,” she said. “I still nurse him from time to time. We had meager supplies at home.”
“I am sure that we will have porridge and other soft foods available,” said Elrond. He lifted his arm in order to escort her, but she placed her other arm around her son in order to avoid Elrond. “This way,” he said, using his hand to instead motion down the corridor.
The two arrived to find the others that Elrond had invited awaiting them. Elrond pulled from the table a chair for Gilraen, but she moved away to the other available spot. Before she could move the chair away for herself, however, Elrohir was on his feet and doing it for her. “My apologies, but I would be ashamed to make a lady perform such a task herself. My father has taught me to be as proper as possible, so I apologize if this vexes you.” Elrohir looked suitably apologetic, adding a charming smile as an afterthought.
Gilraen considered taking Elrohir to task, but decided against making a scene at the breakfast table. “Thank you.” She sat, but made a point of pushing in and adjusting the chair on her own.
Elrohir sat down again and held out a hand. “I am Elrohir; we met a few times in the past, but I know you teased my brother and I a few times about being unable to tell us apart.”
“You do share many similar features,” Gilraen noted.
“Elladan wears no braids in his hair,” Elrohir informed her. “He has never been fond of them. I am going to try to remember to keep mine braided until you are able to tell us apart otherwise.”
“Our condolences,” said Elladan solemnly. “He was a good man and will be missed.” He reached out and gave Gilraen’s hand a squeeze.
“Thank you. I know he enjoyed the adventures he shared with you both.” Her answer was given in a rehearsed monotone, which brought greater concern to Elrond. Gilraen looked across the table. The rest of the occupants were dark-haired as well, except for one whom she had already met who now removed a pair of glasses from his nose and folded them. “Are those necessary?”
“Indeed, they are,” he replied. “At least, when I am doing this.” Glorfindel lifted a book he had been reading. “I am perfectly capable of putting an arrow between the eyes of an orc from two hundred paces if I have to. Reading a simple sentence a foot from my face is practically impossible. I can see by your expression that I have ruined your perception as Elves being perfect beings.”
“On the contrary. It simply enlightens me.” Food began to be brought to the table, and Gilraen set to choosing items for Aragorn without worrying about her own meal. “Excuse me, do you have any of these that are softer?” asked Gilraen of one of the maids who was setting things on the table. She had an apple in her hand, but it was firm and fresh. Aragorn was reaching for it with his tiny hands, giving a little whimper when it was set aside out of his grasp. The maid nodded and curtseyed, before scurrying toward the kitchens. She mashed some egg up into mush in a bowl and began to feed this to Aragorn.
“I hate to make suggestion as to how one should parent—“
“Then do not.” Gilraen looked up for a moment to address the elf sitting across the table from her. “I would appreciate your silence.”
The elf who had spoken up now set down his fork and reached for a piece of toast. He buttered it and sprinkled sugar and cinnamon on the top, then folded it in half. Then he nudged the blond elf beside him. “What is the boy’s name?”
“Aragorn,” whispered Glorfindel.
“Aragorn.” The elf acquired the youth’s attention immediately. “Mmm... this is good...” He feigned nibbling some. “Do you want some? Hmm? Want some?” The elf held out the crusty bread.
“Some dat!” The little lad reached out and yanked the piece of toast from the elf’s hand and began to gnaw on it.
“My goodness!” Gilraen tried to snatch the food from her son, but he turned his head away and chomped on the toast. She glared at Elrond. “Does your staff have no manners?”
Elrond held out a hand, motioning to the elf in question. “Lady Gilraen, this is Master Erestor, chief of staff and my head advisor. He is one of the most trusted members of my household. Erestor, may I introduce Lady Gilraen and young Lord Aragorn?”
“A delight to finally meet you.” Erestor took another piece of toast and fixed it as he had the first. “I have aided in the raising of many, many children over the years. Is he your first?”
Gilraen nodded warily.
“He is old enough to eat on his own.”
“He makes a fierce mess of it.” She was already beginning to clean up her son’s chin and hands.
“Let him,” advised Erestor. “If you continue to feed him, he will not learn how to do so on his own. There are many things he will need to learn to do by himself. Eating is one of the first things we can do on our own. You must not hinder him.” Erestor held another buttered toast slice out for Aragorn to take. “Once he learns to do this for himself, he will begin to embrace other things as well. He will walk sooner, speak in full sentences sooner, and generally learn many things at a faster rate.”
“I suppose you are right.” Gilraen took a sausage from a platter and set it down on the plate for Aragorn. He grabbed hold of it with his other hand and began to chew on it as well.
“I wanted to introduce myself as well, as I need to leave to attend a meeting in a moment.” The other elf stood and bowed. “My name is Melpomaen. I serve as Master Erestor’s chief assistant and secretary. We met briefly last night, but I was unable to really speak to you then with the commotion.”
“Yes, thank you for aiding us yesterday. I much appreciate it.”
“It is my pleasure. Please feel free to call upon me whenever you need. I regret that our house minstrel was unable to be here; he sent his regards. Last night was a very boisterous one in the Hall of Fire,” explained Melpomaen as he pushed in his chair and selected an apple to take with him. He bowed again before he left.
After he went, Erestor waved the end of his spoon in the direction that Melpomaen had left. “One of the many children I have helped to raise.”
“Is he your son?” asked Gilraen.
Erestor tilted his head as he dug another section out of his grapefruit. “Not exactly. His parents were killed when he was an infant.”
“Both of them? At the same time?” Gilraen looked to her own son, who was making the mess she had expected him to. “How terrible.”
“Officially, he became a ‘ward of the realm’. There were so many orphans at that time that many of them were unable to be placed. Melpomaen and Lindir became attached to one another like brothers, and while Melpomaen was young enough that someone might have adopted him, we did not wish to see him separated from Lindir,” Elrond said. “For all intents and purposes, they had no parents.”
“On the other hand they had all of us,” said Erestor. “Uncle Elrond, Uncle Erestor, Uncle Glorfindel, Uncle Aramir. There were nannies in the orphanage, of course, but I know I changed my share of diapers.”
Elrohir snickered. “Sorry. It is funny to think of Melpomaen in a nappy.”
“Watch your words, Elrohir. I have sketches of you and your brother when you were an infant, and you can be certain that there were diapers involved,” warned Elrond.
Elladan shook his head with mouth gaping. “Just how did I get pulled into this?”
Erestor grinned over his mug of tea. “Probably because he knows that even though you did not say it, you were thinking it.”
Intent on keeping their guest included, Glorfindel held out a serving plate of eggs to the lady who listened to the conversation with fascination. All of her preconceived notions about Elves were probably being destroyed one by one as the dialogue continued. “Now that your son has occupied himself, you may want to eat something yourself,” he suggested to Gilraen.
“And before you object,” added Erestor, “let me tell you that while Lord Elrond might back away to give you space, Glorfindel, Lindir, and I shall not leave you be. We are quite concerned and not easily dissuaded. You might think you are doing a good job of being stubborn, but I excel at stubborn. I invented stubborn – and am old enough to make that claim!”
Erestor’s firm yet humorous warning was finally enough to bring a small smile to Gilraen’s lips. “Alright, you win.”
“Oh, you should not have told him that,” warned Elladan.
“Why not?”
“His ego needs no further inflating,” explained Elrohir.
“A fine thing to say before me,” scolded Erestor playfully. “Elrond, how dare you allow your sons to speak in such a way to their elder?”
“We were all thinking it,” mumbled Glorfindel, making sure he was loud enough for Erestor to hear. He was rewarded with a pinch on the shoulder, and laughed it off.
Elrond gave Gilraen an apologetic glance. “We can be very informal here. My staff is more like family to me.”
“Well that is good,” decided Gilraen. “All friends should be as family.”
“In that case, expect Aragorn to have many helpful uncles from now on,” said Elrohir.
