2. Day 2: Not Every Important Job Has To Be Glamorous (Lindir, FOC)
Elethwen risked a glance around her and it was all she could do to hold back tears. Her fingers were sore for all her wrapping, yet there were two more piles of leaves left, and experience told her that she would be using them all. Complaining only makes it worse, she thought, but it is also the only thing that relieves this frustra—
"Oh. You broke that one."
Surely not Lindir again! She could not focus when he was around. His eyes on her continually were more than her fortitude could withstand, and he came all the time, lately. He talked and sang to her—sang! Oh, Elbereth! What was a girl to do with Lindir so close, singing of all things? A sudden fear gripped her. Has the lady Galadriel looked into my mind that she sends Lindir here so often as messenger?
Blowing away a strand of hair so as to keep her hands clean, she made to discard the broken pieces, but Lindir was faster than she and grabbed them first.
"It is quite good, Elethwen," he said in that singsong voice of his. "The Lady says that Aragorn's company will need them (which is why I am here, in a way, to find out if they are ready), but, by the leaves of Cerin Amroth, I am almost sorry that they will take them all."
"Not I. If I could never see another piece of lembas bread again, I would call myself content," she said, flattening her palms against the table. "Can you think of a more boring, more worthless occupation in the whole of Caras Galadhon?" This ended with a huff in a renewed attempt to brush that stubborn strand away from her face.
"Surely not worthless!" he said as he reached with his hand to tuck the errant strand away, lingering there longer than was strictly necessary to do so, or so it seemed to her. "When I am away, I am always grateful for your lembas. It strengthens me on my journey and gives me something to remember home by, to remind me the reasons why I live to protect it." 'Which reminds me why I would die to protect it,' he seemed to have said, but she only heard this with her heart.
And that was precisely why she continued faithfully making lembas. As awful as the job was—and it was!—it was too small a price to pay if it served to give Lindir strength and hope when he was away.
Perhaps one day she would tell him so, she thought, as she watched him happily eating away the crumbs of the broken lembas.
"Oh. You broke that one."
Surely not Lindir again! She could not focus when he was around. His eyes on her continually were more than her fortitude could withstand, and he came all the time, lately. He talked and sang to her—sang! Oh, Elbereth! What was a girl to do with Lindir so close, singing of all things? A sudden fear gripped her. Has the lady Galadriel looked into my mind that she sends Lindir here so often as messenger?
Blowing away a strand of hair so as to keep her hands clean, she made to discard the broken pieces, but Lindir was faster than she and grabbed them first.
"It is quite good, Elethwen," he said in that singsong voice of his. "The Lady says that Aragorn's company will need them (which is why I am here, in a way, to find out if they are ready), but, by the leaves of Cerin Amroth, I am almost sorry that they will take them all."
"Not I. If I could never see another piece of lembas bread again, I would call myself content," she said, flattening her palms against the table. "Can you think of a more boring, more worthless occupation in the whole of Caras Galadhon?" This ended with a huff in a renewed attempt to brush that stubborn strand away from her face.
"Surely not worthless!" he said as he reached with his hand to tuck the errant strand away, lingering there longer than was strictly necessary to do so, or so it seemed to her. "When I am away, I am always grateful for your lembas. It strengthens me on my journey and gives me something to remember home by, to remind me the reasons why I live to protect it." 'Which reminds me why I would die to protect it,' he seemed to have said, but she only heard this with her heart.
And that was precisely why she continued faithfully making lembas. As awful as the job was—and it was!—it was too small a price to pay if it served to give Lindir strength and hope when he was away.
Perhaps one day she would tell him so, she thought, as she watched him happily eating away the crumbs of the broken lembas.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.
