As it turned out, Elrond had no information regarding Tintilien’s other relatives, and a letter to her former parents went unanswered. It was therefore a happy coincidence that Elladan happened to be at the King’s Kastle visiting Elrohir when an ornery old ellon entered in a huff and ordered a pint of ale as he dropped down on the stool next to the peredhel. “Stubborn as his mother,” was all the stranger said at first, rubbing his face with his hands.
The twin brothers merely exchanged smirks with one another as Elrohir paused their conversation in order to retrieve the drink for this new customer. “Something bothering you, friend?” he asked as he placed the mug in front of the elf.
He was answered with a grunt as a shiny coin skidded toward him. No more was said, and Elrohir returned to his conversation with Elladan. “I made two stuffed cats and a stuffed rabbit. She needs a bunny if she is living in that house. What else do you think she would like?”
“Maybe a dog. I have a design for a stuffed goat, but I modified it and made it look like a unicorn instead. Glorfindel said she seems fond of those. Did I tell you about the sock puppy he made her?”
“No – please, tell me they were clean socks,” added Elrohir with a snicker.
“Of course they were clean! He used ones with holes in the toes and patched them up, and then he used some extra blue dye that Nana had. It looks raggedy, but cute. Oh, I have been working on a baby doll, too. Ada finished sculpting the head, so I brought it with me. I thought perhaps Glorcheniel might paint the face on. Rumil tried, but it came off much too comical, so if she has time-“
“Why is it,” said the newcomer suddenly, “that children act so damned irresponsible sometimes?” His fist hit the counter at every word after ‘act’, spilling a little beer onto the wooden surface. He looked at the twins for an answer, flinching for a moment to see that they were so similar in appearance to one another. “Or are neither of you a father?”
“Not me,” answered Elrohir happily, cleaning up the spill before excusing himself to the other end of the bar.
“I have a son.” Elladan turned to face the other elf. “Sometimes, he vexes me. Then I think back to all of the things I did to my own parents... all then it seems I am only getting what I deserve,” he grinned.
“Hmmhh. Well, I was a good son. I followed my father faithfully, may he rest in peace; I was not one to question his authority.” The ellon drank deeply and set his mug to rest again. “True, no parent is perfect, but advice should be heeded when given. How old is your son?”
“Few hundred years. I gave up counting after he turned fifty.”
The ellon nodded. “I suspect mine is older than you, by far. So I cannot blame his stupidity on lack of experience.” He drummed his fingers upon the counter. “I did not raise him; his mother did. For that reason, he sees me as an outcast.”
“Were you... away or something, that you were unable to care for him?”
“I was never told about him, until I was reborn and heard rumors and tracked him down.” The elf held his head proudly and said, “I would not have knowingly abandoned my child.”
“I believe you,” said Elladan. The power in this elf’s voice was captivating, and just a little scary to the peredhel.
“He grudgingly allowed my visits, until his wife became with child. Then they were only too glad for my company, though it was a way to have someone else build the addition on their home and provide spur of the moment care for their elfling when she was born. Not that I cared – I love my granddaughter with all of my heart, and I loved her before I knew her name, and before she was ever born. I dare say I loved her more than he did, and I now I know that to be true.”
Something jolted Elladan, like suddenly waking up and having the answer. Unable to trust his instincts alone, he pushed for more information. “What happened? Is she alright?”
“That is what I would like to know.” The look on the ellon’s face went from angered to concerned, cooling his temper a little. His face was still flushed, bringing out the red highlights in his dark hair. “I went to see her, and I was told that she was gone. No other answer was I given, and then I was told to leave. I have to find her; I have no friends and have done an excellent job alienating my very own family. She is all I have left.”
---
Elladan and his new friend dismounted behind the house and walked their horses to the barn. “I think it might be best if I go in first and explain things, and then have you come in,” suggested Elladan.
“No disrespect, but if you do that, please, do not be long. I am aching to see her again and to know what has happened.”
During their hasty ride back, Elladan declined to answer one question: why? “It is best for my father to explain, or for Erestor to tell you. Perhaps you should even hear it from your own granddaughter, but from me, it is barely secondhand.”
They approached the front of the house slowly, finding Elrond and Celebrian sitting on the porch swing. Elrond stood as the pair approached and greeted his son with the clasp of hand before turning his attention to their guest. “You are welcome here, son of Feanor. I need not guess your reason for coming; I should have considered you were her grandsire.”
“Son of Earendil, how would you have known, lest my bastard son tell you it was I. Let us speak less of child and more of my grandchild. Specifically, where she is, and what has happened to her.”
Elrond nodded and moved aside to allow the other elf to climb the steps to the porch. “She is well, all things considered.” Elrond told the tale, the anger of their guest renewed to hear of his granddaughter’s fate. “She is in the best of care, I assure you that her recovery has been steady, if not swift.”
“I would not expect it to be fast; she is peredhel.” This was said without malice, only as a matter of fact. “May I see her?”
Giving a slow nod, Elrond opened the door to the house and led the way inside. Within, a cacophony of noises came from all directions. They passed the kitchen, where Galadriel was making a stew and gently shoving her husband away from the pot he kept sneaking tastes from, insistent that there would be none left when it was done from all of his tasting. Rumil and Legolas were sitting on the bench in the hallway, carving wood for a new kitchen chair and swapping jokes. In the parlor, a fire was lit, and Haldir played flute in his favorite corner while Elodien and Glorfindel played a game of chess. “Where is Erestor?” asked Elrond as he entered with the little party that followed him in.
“He is—“ Glorfindel paused, sucking in his breath as he saw the figure behind Elrond. “He and Tintilien will be right back. She had to use the loo, and you know, she has trouble with the door handle.”
Haldir put down his flute, bringing about an eerie silence. Moments later a joyful nonsense song could be heard coming from the hallway.
“I, did it, all by, myself; I, did it, all by, myself—Glorfindel!” Tintilien rushed past the group at the entryway and practically jumped into Glorfindel’s lap. “I did it all by myself! I got the door open without help this time! This hand is getting stronger, look!” She wiggled the fingers of her right hand, and then grabbed hold of one of Glorfindel’s fingers and gave it a squeeze.
Erestor, grinning as he now entered, folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the doorway. A split second later, he glanced around, and his expression dissolved when he saw the ellon who did not look as if he belonged. “Caranthir,” he said, and the elf turned around, and bowed his head slightly.
Tintilien looked away from Glorfindel, and gave a delightful squeal. “Grandfather!” She tumbled off of Glorfindel’s lap, steadied herself, and ran into Caranthir’s open arms as he knelt down to greet her. “Grandfather, I missed you!”
“I missed you too, snowflake. Oh, now, what is this?” He took her injured arm by the shoulder, brushing it gently with his thumb. The wound had healed and was unbandaged now, but there still remained an ugly bruise and discolored skin. Bending his head, he kissed her upon the nose. “I am sorry, baby, I should have taken you away from there long ago, and then this never would have happened.” Caranthir gathered Tintilien into his arms and held her tightly.
“But then I never might have met all these nice people,” she said, but it was muffled and mumbled against Caranthir’s cloak.
Meanwhile, Erestor stood helplessly by, not daring to look at the scene unfolding before him. The room cleared out, leaving only Caranthir, Erestor, Tintilien, and Glorfindel, who absently shifted the chess pieces around the board, glancing now and then at the happy reunion.
The awkward period was broken by Galadriel, who slipped past Erestor to announce, “Dinner is ready; I suggest anyone who wishes to be fed come to the kitchen before Celeborn eats it all.”
Caranthir looked up, and it seemed to surprise him to see her standing there. “You live here, too?” he asked warily.
“Yes, and if you are staying, you will be forced to put up with my cooking as well.” She stepped out of the room and went back to the kitchen, but only after placing her hand upon Erestor’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze.
“So... this is a House of Finarfin,” said Caranthir as he stood up to address Erestor.
“No, this is the House of Elrond. It only just happens that a few of Finarfin’s line live here. My son happens to be one of them,” added Erestor.
“I see.” Caranthir glanced across the room at Glorfindel as Tintilien tugged on her grandfather’s sleeve. “Yes, baby?” he asked, giving her head a pat.
Tintilien point toward the kitchen. “I am hungry. Are you going to stay for supper?”
“If I am welcome to, then yes, I will.”
Beaming, Tintilien headed to the kitchen and called back, “I will save a spot for you next to me!”
Caranthir walked slowly around the room, keeping a careful eye on either Erestor or Glorfindel as he did. Erestor walked the opposite way, stopping when he was behind Glorfindel’s chair. “Will you be leaving tonight or in the morning? I would prefer morning; it would give us a proper chance to say...” Erestor looked away from Caranthir and added, “to say goodbye to her.”
With brow furrowed, Caranthir tilted his head slightly. “You think I came to claim her and take her away?”
“I assumed,” answered Erestor.
As he looked around the room again, Caranthir sighed. “I can see that she would be better off here. Here she will have a family, and she will have parents, and she will have all of the opportunities she should have. With me, she would have small house to share with a sometimes grouchy old elf who is often victim of rotten eggs and vegetables being thrown at him. I do not need her to know about that part of my life, and I do not need her to suffer through that. What I came to do was beg you to allow me to see her from time to time.”
“Whenever you wish,” spoke Glorfindel, who was clearly moved by Caranthir’s words. “You are her kin, and you are welcome here.”
-End Part Four-
