Light Fingers 12 - Letters and Bad News
Ivoreth begins her education and starts to get answers - although not the ones she wanted.
The afternoon was warm, and Raini had finally dropped off to sleep for her nap. Ivoreth made certain that Anni, Raini’s doll, was securely tucked into her sister’s arms before tiptoeing out of the bedroom in search of Celebriel. Sometimes, when Elladan and Elrohir were out on their business, the beautiful elf woman - elleth, she corrected herself; Elladan had told her the proper words for men and women Elves - could be convinced to sing to her in the beautiful language. She loved the songs, and there were a few to which she was starting to learn the words - even if she didn’t understand what they said - and she could almost sing along sometimes.
She found her at the table in the kitchen, working patiently over a paper. “What are you doing?” Ivoreth asked, sitting down on the bench next to her.
“Writing a letter to my naneth,” Celebriel told her, putting her quill carefully into the little ink pot beyond the paper. “She went across the sea long ago. My adar is finally leaving with Lord Elrond when he crosses the sea soon, and he will be with her again.” She sighed. “I’m going to miss him as much as I have missed her. I’ve written him some letters too,” she nodded at a stack of folded papers tied with a ribbon. “Once he’s gone across the sea, it will be a long time before he will hear my words again. So I write the letters now that tell him how much I love him, so that he can hear me in that far away place when I’m not there. And with this letter, I want to tell my naneth that I am well and happy, that I love her very much - and that I will join her someday, but not yet.”
Ivoreth stared at the strange markings. “So those marks on the paper are words you’re saying to your mother?” She had seen such markings before, in the books that Elladan would take down to share pictures that went with the stories he would tell her just before bedtime.
Celebriel’s light laughter tinkled like a small bell. “Of course - you’ve never seen it before, have you?”
“I have, but only in the books that Elladan gets down when he tells us stories. I thought he just got the books out to show us the pictures.”
“Your Ada wasn’t telling you the story, Ivoreth, he was reading the words written in the book.” Celebriel pulled another smaller piece of paper from the small box next to her and turned it over to hide the ink blot and other writings that marred one side of it. She retrieved her quill from the ink, tapped it gently a couple of times and then carefully made three marks on it with smaller marks above. “There - that’s you.” She pointed at the marks. “That says ‘Ivoreth’.”
Ivoreth stared at the marks on the paper. “That’s my name?” She looked up at Celebriel in wonder, only to find her smiling back.
“Yes, indeed. Watch.” Celebriel carefully wrote the name again, making each mark as she explained what it signified. “I, V, O, R, E, Th. Ivoreth.”
Ivoreth stared at the second set of markings, looking exactly like the first, and then looked back up at Celebriel again. “What does Elladan’s name look like?”
Celebriel carefully dipped the quill back into the little ink pot and wrote two more marks. “There. That’s what ‘Ada’ looks like.”
She keeps saying Ada. I know what that word means - it means father. She’s talking about Elladan.
“I mean, what does Elladan look like in writing?” she asked again.
Celebriel blinked. “Elladan is your Ada, little one.”
She thinks I should call Elladan “ father?”
Ivoreth shook her head. “I have a Da - he’s dead,” she announced flatly. “I can’t write letters to him - he couldn’t read them anyway.”
“I’m not speaking of your Da,” Celebriel answered gently. “Nobody will ever replace him - not even Elladan. But he can be your Ada - your foster-father - can he not? Da and Ada sound almost the same, but they aren’t the same - just your Da and Elladan aren’t the same person, but they love you and take care of you in much the same way.”
Ivoreth tipped her head, thinking. The same, but different? He loves me?
“So I’m not supposed to call him Elladan anymore, I’m supposed to call him Ada?” she asked carefully with eyes narrowed. Was she expected to do that to be a foster-daughter? How many other things would she have to learn - and what would happen if she made a mistake?
“Oh, Ivoreth!” Celebriel put her arm about Ivoreth’s shoulder. “There are no rules for how or when you call Elladan by name or as Ada. I suppose it depends on whether you like him well enough to use Ada.”
“I like him…” Ivoreth complained. “He’s been very nice to me and to Raini.”
“He intends to raise you in his house, as if you were his daughter. Is that something that you want?”
I have a choice?
But Ivoreth nodded - as much for Raini’s sake as for her own. Raini needed someone to look after her - she had failed at that already and knew her limitations. Watching Raini and Elladan together was like watching Daren with Da. And it was nice not to have to make so many hard choices anymore. Still…
She stared at the smaller word for a moment that seemed to stretch. Ada. She pictured Elladan’s face in her mind and kept staring at the little word. Ada?
Celebriel sighed finally, reached for the quill again and made three marks. “That’s Elladan.”
Ivoreth studied the new word on the page, grateful to be brought back to the topic that had so intrigued her before. “Can I learn to do that someday?”
“Do you want to learn?”
Ivoreth nodded enthusiastically.
“Then you shall learn - we can maybe make it a surprise for your Ada. Would you like that?”
Ignoring yet another gentle push in the direction of calling Elladan by another name, Ivoreth nodded again and looked up at her eagerly. “Can I try?”
The elleth moved the smaller paper in front of Ivoreth. “Using pen and ink takes a great deal of practice. It takes work to keep from making blots like the one on the other side of this.” She lifted the edge of the paper to expose the dark spot on the other side.
Ivoreth touched the paper with cautious fingers. She hadn’t dared touch the book that Elladan kept bringing down to show her at bedtime, afraid that she’d hurt it. Now with a chance to look at real paper up close, she could see how it was a mass of tiny little threads running in every possible direction. She smoothed her thumb and forefinger along the length, marveling at how smooth it was, and how it held together despite everything.
So this is what it feels like!
Celebriel carefully positioned the quill in Ivoreth’s right hand. “We’ll start learning with this hand first - and maybe tomorrow work on the other one. Now, what do you want to try first?”
“Ada?” Ivoreth smiled eagerly. It was the shortest word - and it made the elleth’s face light up with a smile, as she had hoped.
“Very well. Do you remember which one that is?”
Ivoreth nodded again and pointed to the shorter word.
“Good girl. Let’s see how you do, then.”
Celebriel guided Ivoreth's hand with the quill to the little ink bottle, dipped the tip in, tapped the end gently on the edge of the bottle, and then moved it down to the paper. "Don't press too hard, or you'll ruin the tip," she warned. Ivoreth bit her lip and tried to copy the first of Celebriel’s markings. The quill was shaking with her effort to control the lines and make them smooth, like the example above it. She frowned. The ink had pooled in some places and been barely visible in others - and the lines were not straight at all. “That doesn’t look right.”
“It takes practice, nethben. For a first try, it’s very good. Keep going. What’s next?”
This is harder than it looked when Celebriel did it!
She looked up into the elleth’s face, found it smiling and encouraging still, and looked back up at the example and tackled the final pair. She slumped back and compared her attempt with the elegant markings. “I’m not very good at it,” she said sadly, putting the quill carefully back in its little ink bottle. She was very disappointed in herself. There was no sign of the gentle, graceful curves that were in Celebriel’s example. In fact, it barely looked like the same thing.
That looks horrible!
Celebriel laughed aloud and hugged Ivoreth tightly for a moment. “No, Ivoreth! You did very well for never having tried before. I can just tell that you’re going to be a very good student! What a surprise this will be for your Ada!”
Ivoreth blinked and straightened herself against Celebriel’s side. “Really?”
“Nethben, nobody’s first try ever looks as nice as they’d want it to be. My Ada has some of my first tries saved - I’ll have to show them to you when we get home to Imladris. You’ll laugh, I’m certain. You’re doing much better now than I did.” She hugged Ivoreth again. “It takes everybody time and practice to write well. Be patient, and practice hard, and you’ll be writing in a nicer hand than mine someday.”
If I work hard, I can make it better. I know I can. And it would be nice to surprise Elladan. He called me daughter yesterday - and made it so that Garlain has no hold over me. Maybe I could start calling him Ada - would he like that?
Ivoreth smiled and soaked up the hug - then sat forward again to reach for the quill. “I want to try it again.”
oOoOo
Something’s wrong.
Ivoreth watched Celebriel glance out the dark bedroom window for the third time since she’d started to tell the story of the seven dwarves in the hall of the Elvenking of Mirkwood. The tale was funny and exciting, but Celebriel had her mind obviously on something else.
What was more, Elladan hadn’t come home - and neither had Elrohir.
That, more than anything else, worried Ivoreth. Elladan had never failed to make an appearance at the evening meal - no matter what his daily business had required of him. More often than not, he arrived with Elrohir, and the two would amuse Raini and her with stories of their day. The security of knowing that, by the end of the day, the one person she trusted most in the world was watching over her again had become very important.
Celebriel was back to telling the story, using different voices to make the people in the story come alive for Raini. Her little sister was, as always, wide-eyed and open-mouthed as the tale went on. Ivoreth listened with only part of her attention - looking out the darkened window and hoping for the sound of the apartment door opening and closing to tell her that all the important people in her world were once more safe and sound.
There they were - at last! Low, deep voices sounded from beyond the bedroom door, and Ivoreth’s world settled and became safe again. She looked at Celebriel and saw the elleth give her a slight nod in permission to go greet her foster-father. Ivoreth slid from the bed, ignoring the chill of the wood on bare feet, and trotted out into the apartment. Two dark heads turned to her, but Ivoreth only had eyes for the one that she knew now, without a doubt, was her foster-father. She could tell the two apart easily now - Elladan stood just slightly taller than his twin.
He looks tired.
“Ivoreth.” Ivoreth needed no further invitation to trot over to Elladan and be gathered into his arms as he bent to her. He held her tightly, then lifted her and balanced her on a hip. Ivoreth sighed contentedly and rested her head on his shoulder. Elrohir commented quietly in their musical language and, after giving her a gentle and oddly sad smile, headed off toward his own chamber.
“There is news,” Elladan began, carrying her into the sitting room and then sitting down in his regular, comfortable chair to settle her into his lap, “and I’m afraid it isn’t good news.”
At the sadness in his grey-blue eyes, Ivoreth felt a sharp dart of fear. “Daren?” she whispered. He nodded. She bit her lip and then gave voice to her worst nightmare. “Is he dead?”
“No.” Elladan drew her head back to his shoulder. “He’s alive, but he’s in a very bad way. The Guards in the prison… they were not kind…”
A chill went down Ivoreth’s spine. “They hurt him.” This wasn’t surprising, although her foster-father’s reaction was beginning to scare her.
Daren! What did they do to you?
“Yes - they, and some of the older boys in the cell with him.” Elladan took a deep and shaky breath, which told Ivoreth how upset this had made even him. “The Guards reported that he’d been sent out to the farmsteads to work - but he was in no shape to send anywhere. Those charged with taking the convicts to their masters would have reported his injuries - so the Guards hid him in a small cell far in the back and lied in their reports.”
“Why?” she asked in a small voice.
She could feel Elladan’s whole body tense beneath her. “We don’t know yet - the Guards posted to that part of the prison aren’t telling what happened, and we’re still trying to find all the boys taken to the Pelennor that were with Daren in the cell that night.” His arms closed tightly around her. “Daren is in the Houses of Healing, Ivoreth. Aragorn - Estel - is with him now. We can only hope…”
Ivoreth huddled against her foster-father. “Is he going to die?”
Elladan sighed, and she knew that she wouldn’t like the answer to that. “Estel is doing all he can - Elrohir and I were with him most of the afternoon. I will rest now for a few hours, and then I will go back and watch over him while Estel rests. Elrohir will come in the morning. With luck, we won’t have to call Estel again - and Daren will recover.” He dropped a kiss onto her cheek. “He’s in the best of hands, Ivoreth. You know that…”
Yes, she knew that. The King had come when Raini had been almost at the edge of the worlds and drawn her back - surely he could help Daren! But what if he couldn’t? No - she wouldn’t think that.
“Can I go see him?”
Elladan shook his head slowly. “Not yet, little one. It would only upset you to see him like that, and your visit would not do Daren any good. He wouldn’t even know that you were there.” He sheltered her head under his chin. “The moment the visit will do you both good, though, I’ll take you - I promise.”
Ivoreth clung to Elladan, convinced by the way he trembled that her guardian was in as much need of comforting as she was. She heard him whisper something in his own language very softly - and suddenly she felt the warm splash of something wet hit her cheek from above. And then she couldn’t hold back her own tears any longer.
Don’t cry, Ada…
The afternoon was warm, and Raini had finally dropped off to sleep for her nap. Ivoreth made certain that Anni, Raini’s doll, was securely tucked into her sister’s arms before tiptoeing out of the bedroom in search of Celebriel. Sometimes, when Elladan and Elrohir were out on their business, the beautiful elf woman - elleth, she corrected herself; Elladan had told her the proper words for men and women Elves - could be convinced to sing to her in the beautiful language. She loved the songs, and there were a few to which she was starting to learn the words - even if she didn’t understand what they said - and she could almost sing along sometimes.
She found her at the table in the kitchen, working patiently over a paper. “What are you doing?” Ivoreth asked, sitting down on the bench next to her.
“Writing a letter to my naneth,” Celebriel told her, putting her quill carefully into the little ink pot beyond the paper. “She went across the sea long ago. My adar is finally leaving with Lord Elrond when he crosses the sea soon, and he will be with her again.” She sighed. “I’m going to miss him as much as I have missed her. I’ve written him some letters too,” she nodded at a stack of folded papers tied with a ribbon. “Once he’s gone across the sea, it will be a long time before he will hear my words again. So I write the letters now that tell him how much I love him, so that he can hear me in that far away place when I’m not there. And with this letter, I want to tell my naneth that I am well and happy, that I love her very much - and that I will join her someday, but not yet.”
Ivoreth stared at the strange markings. “So those marks on the paper are words you’re saying to your mother?” She had seen such markings before, in the books that Elladan would take down to share pictures that went with the stories he would tell her just before bedtime.
Celebriel’s light laughter tinkled like a small bell. “Of course - you’ve never seen it before, have you?”
“I have, but only in the books that Elladan gets down when he tells us stories. I thought he just got the books out to show us the pictures.”
“Your Ada wasn’t telling you the story, Ivoreth, he was reading the words written in the book.” Celebriel pulled another smaller piece of paper from the small box next to her and turned it over to hide the ink blot and other writings that marred one side of it. She retrieved her quill from the ink, tapped it gently a couple of times and then carefully made three marks on it with smaller marks above. “There - that’s you.” She pointed at the marks. “That says ‘Ivoreth’.”
Ivoreth stared at the marks on the paper. “That’s my name?” She looked up at Celebriel in wonder, only to find her smiling back.
“Yes, indeed. Watch.” Celebriel carefully wrote the name again, making each mark as she explained what it signified. “I, V, O, R, E, Th. Ivoreth.”
Ivoreth stared at the second set of markings, looking exactly like the first, and then looked back up at Celebriel again. “What does Elladan’s name look like?”
Celebriel carefully dipped the quill back into the little ink pot and wrote two more marks. “There. That’s what ‘Ada’ looks like.”
She keeps saying Ada. I know what that word means - it means father. She’s talking about Elladan.
“I mean, what does Elladan look like in writing?” she asked again.
Celebriel blinked. “Elladan is your Ada, little one.”
She thinks I should call Elladan “ father?”
Ivoreth shook her head. “I have a Da - he’s dead,” she announced flatly. “I can’t write letters to him - he couldn’t read them anyway.”
“I’m not speaking of your Da,” Celebriel answered gently. “Nobody will ever replace him - not even Elladan. But he can be your Ada - your foster-father - can he not? Da and Ada sound almost the same, but they aren’t the same - just your Da and Elladan aren’t the same person, but they love you and take care of you in much the same way.”
Ivoreth tipped her head, thinking. The same, but different? He loves me?
“So I’m not supposed to call him Elladan anymore, I’m supposed to call him Ada?” she asked carefully with eyes narrowed. Was she expected to do that to be a foster-daughter? How many other things would she have to learn - and what would happen if she made a mistake?
“Oh, Ivoreth!” Celebriel put her arm about Ivoreth’s shoulder. “There are no rules for how or when you call Elladan by name or as Ada. I suppose it depends on whether you like him well enough to use Ada.”
“I like him…” Ivoreth complained. “He’s been very nice to me and to Raini.”
“He intends to raise you in his house, as if you were his daughter. Is that something that you want?”
I have a choice?
But Ivoreth nodded - as much for Raini’s sake as for her own. Raini needed someone to look after her - she had failed at that already and knew her limitations. Watching Raini and Elladan together was like watching Daren with Da. And it was nice not to have to make so many hard choices anymore. Still…
She stared at the smaller word for a moment that seemed to stretch. Ada. She pictured Elladan’s face in her mind and kept staring at the little word. Ada?
Celebriel sighed finally, reached for the quill again and made three marks. “That’s Elladan.”
Ivoreth studied the new word on the page, grateful to be brought back to the topic that had so intrigued her before. “Can I learn to do that someday?”
“Do you want to learn?”
Ivoreth nodded enthusiastically.
“Then you shall learn - we can maybe make it a surprise for your Ada. Would you like that?”
Ignoring yet another gentle push in the direction of calling Elladan by another name, Ivoreth nodded again and looked up at her eagerly. “Can I try?”
The elleth moved the smaller paper in front of Ivoreth. “Using pen and ink takes a great deal of practice. It takes work to keep from making blots like the one on the other side of this.” She lifted the edge of the paper to expose the dark spot on the other side.
Ivoreth touched the paper with cautious fingers. She hadn’t dared touch the book that Elladan kept bringing down to show her at bedtime, afraid that she’d hurt it. Now with a chance to look at real paper up close, she could see how it was a mass of tiny little threads running in every possible direction. She smoothed her thumb and forefinger along the length, marveling at how smooth it was, and how it held together despite everything.
So this is what it feels like!
Celebriel carefully positioned the quill in Ivoreth’s right hand. “We’ll start learning with this hand first - and maybe tomorrow work on the other one. Now, what do you want to try first?”
“Ada?” Ivoreth smiled eagerly. It was the shortest word - and it made the elleth’s face light up with a smile, as she had hoped.
“Very well. Do you remember which one that is?”
Ivoreth nodded again and pointed to the shorter word.
“Good girl. Let’s see how you do, then.”
Celebriel guided Ivoreth's hand with the quill to the little ink bottle, dipped the tip in, tapped the end gently on the edge of the bottle, and then moved it down to the paper. "Don't press too hard, or you'll ruin the tip," she warned. Ivoreth bit her lip and tried to copy the first of Celebriel’s markings. The quill was shaking with her effort to control the lines and make them smooth, like the example above it. She frowned. The ink had pooled in some places and been barely visible in others - and the lines were not straight at all. “That doesn’t look right.”
“It takes practice, nethben. For a first try, it’s very good. Keep going. What’s next?”
This is harder than it looked when Celebriel did it!
She looked up into the elleth’s face, found it smiling and encouraging still, and looked back up at the example and tackled the final pair. She slumped back and compared her attempt with the elegant markings. “I’m not very good at it,” she said sadly, putting the quill carefully back in its little ink bottle. She was very disappointed in herself. There was no sign of the gentle, graceful curves that were in Celebriel’s example. In fact, it barely looked like the same thing.
That looks horrible!
Celebriel laughed aloud and hugged Ivoreth tightly for a moment. “No, Ivoreth! You did very well for never having tried before. I can just tell that you’re going to be a very good student! What a surprise this will be for your Ada!”
Ivoreth blinked and straightened herself against Celebriel’s side. “Really?”
“Nethben, nobody’s first try ever looks as nice as they’d want it to be. My Ada has some of my first tries saved - I’ll have to show them to you when we get home to Imladris. You’ll laugh, I’m certain. You’re doing much better now than I did.” She hugged Ivoreth again. “It takes everybody time and practice to write well. Be patient, and practice hard, and you’ll be writing in a nicer hand than mine someday.”
If I work hard, I can make it better. I know I can. And it would be nice to surprise Elladan. He called me daughter yesterday - and made it so that Garlain has no hold over me. Maybe I could start calling him Ada - would he like that?
Ivoreth smiled and soaked up the hug - then sat forward again to reach for the quill. “I want to try it again.”
oOoOo
Something’s wrong.
Ivoreth watched Celebriel glance out the dark bedroom window for the third time since she’d started to tell the story of the seven dwarves in the hall of the Elvenking of Mirkwood. The tale was funny and exciting, but Celebriel had her mind obviously on something else.
What was more, Elladan hadn’t come home - and neither had Elrohir.
That, more than anything else, worried Ivoreth. Elladan had never failed to make an appearance at the evening meal - no matter what his daily business had required of him. More often than not, he arrived with Elrohir, and the two would amuse Raini and her with stories of their day. The security of knowing that, by the end of the day, the one person she trusted most in the world was watching over her again had become very important.
Celebriel was back to telling the story, using different voices to make the people in the story come alive for Raini. Her little sister was, as always, wide-eyed and open-mouthed as the tale went on. Ivoreth listened with only part of her attention - looking out the darkened window and hoping for the sound of the apartment door opening and closing to tell her that all the important people in her world were once more safe and sound.
There they were - at last! Low, deep voices sounded from beyond the bedroom door, and Ivoreth’s world settled and became safe again. She looked at Celebriel and saw the elleth give her a slight nod in permission to go greet her foster-father. Ivoreth slid from the bed, ignoring the chill of the wood on bare feet, and trotted out into the apartment. Two dark heads turned to her, but Ivoreth only had eyes for the one that she knew now, without a doubt, was her foster-father. She could tell the two apart easily now - Elladan stood just slightly taller than his twin.
He looks tired.
“Ivoreth.” Ivoreth needed no further invitation to trot over to Elladan and be gathered into his arms as he bent to her. He held her tightly, then lifted her and balanced her on a hip. Ivoreth sighed contentedly and rested her head on his shoulder. Elrohir commented quietly in their musical language and, after giving her a gentle and oddly sad smile, headed off toward his own chamber.
“There is news,” Elladan began, carrying her into the sitting room and then sitting down in his regular, comfortable chair to settle her into his lap, “and I’m afraid it isn’t good news.”
At the sadness in his grey-blue eyes, Ivoreth felt a sharp dart of fear. “Daren?” she whispered. He nodded. She bit her lip and then gave voice to her worst nightmare. “Is he dead?”
“No.” Elladan drew her head back to his shoulder. “He’s alive, but he’s in a very bad way. The Guards in the prison… they were not kind…”
A chill went down Ivoreth’s spine. “They hurt him.” This wasn’t surprising, although her foster-father’s reaction was beginning to scare her.
Daren! What did they do to you?
“Yes - they, and some of the older boys in the cell with him.” Elladan took a deep and shaky breath, which told Ivoreth how upset this had made even him. “The Guards reported that he’d been sent out to the farmsteads to work - but he was in no shape to send anywhere. Those charged with taking the convicts to their masters would have reported his injuries - so the Guards hid him in a small cell far in the back and lied in their reports.”
“Why?” she asked in a small voice.
She could feel Elladan’s whole body tense beneath her. “We don’t know yet - the Guards posted to that part of the prison aren’t telling what happened, and we’re still trying to find all the boys taken to the Pelennor that were with Daren in the cell that night.” His arms closed tightly around her. “Daren is in the Houses of Healing, Ivoreth. Aragorn - Estel - is with him now. We can only hope…”
Ivoreth huddled against her foster-father. “Is he going to die?”
Elladan sighed, and she knew that she wouldn’t like the answer to that. “Estel is doing all he can - Elrohir and I were with him most of the afternoon. I will rest now for a few hours, and then I will go back and watch over him while Estel rests. Elrohir will come in the morning. With luck, we won’t have to call Estel again - and Daren will recover.” He dropped a kiss onto her cheek. “He’s in the best of hands, Ivoreth. You know that…”
Yes, she knew that. The King had come when Raini had been almost at the edge of the worlds and drawn her back - surely he could help Daren! But what if he couldn’t? No - she wouldn’t think that.
“Can I go see him?”
Elladan shook his head slowly. “Not yet, little one. It would only upset you to see him like that, and your visit would not do Daren any good. He wouldn’t even know that you were there.” He sheltered her head under his chin. “The moment the visit will do you both good, though, I’ll take you - I promise.”
Ivoreth clung to Elladan, convinced by the way he trembled that her guardian was in as much need of comforting as she was. She heard him whisper something in his own language very softly - and suddenly she felt the warm splash of something wet hit her cheek from above. And then she couldn’t hold back her own tears any longer.
Don’t cry, Ada…