Growing Pains
It was supposed to have been just another routine patrol. It had taken a great deal of persuading, promises not to run off without his guard, even more persuading, to get them to agree he could start going on patrol. Gilriant pointed out that in the past elves had started going on patrol even younger than 50. That experience was a necessary part of learning. He even pointed out what was better, have him nearby for his first experiences like this or out wandering somewhere far away. They couldn’t protect him forever, and he certainly wasn’t going to stay in Imladris all his life. Which spawned a whole other set of arguments but Harry stood firm.
Being considered mature but not fully adult was an odd place to be. More responsibility, more independence, but still encased in this protective bubble. Gilriant had the sneaking suspicion that he would still have the protective bubble they wanted to keep him in for a very long time. It may lessen over time but the not-of-age status made it difficult to thin the layers of it right now. Objectively he knew it was for a good reason. That didn’t make it easy to deal with. Sadly after this latest incident, Harry was pretty sure it would be worse for some time.
The first patrols went off smoothly. The excitement of participating gave way to the calm routine of it. Gilriant still found a great deal to learn and enjoy about the patrols. As time progressed they took the longer and further points away until they were at the very edge of the territory. He could tell the guards took an extra alert air even if he couldn’t see any outright differences.
He felt it, before anything actually happened. Gilriant didn’t really have words that could accurately describe the corrosive nauseating sensation that creeped into his senses. “Something, something is wrong,” he managed in a strangled tone. The group immediately went on full alert, facing outwards with him in the center. While typically he might protest that protected position Harry was in no position now to do so. He swayed in the saddle, and later he would reflect it was likely a good thing they were all on horses, like they insisted he needed to learn on. If it had been Hallows or Tindil he had been riding the outcome would not have been good.
Then they were attacked. Warg riding orcs did their best to crash into the elven patrol. Dimly Gilriant was aware of the physical activity, most of his focus was held on the overwhelming mental impressions he was swamped with. Pain, rage, terror, hate, and overwhelming grief. Impressions that reflected not just now but echoed back from long ago. Then he Saw.
These beings came from the corruption of the bodies of the Lost Ones. The reason they had been tossed out and discarded. Violated and marred, twisted into something no elf should have ever been made to. Gilriant could feel the snap as fea was ripped from hroa. He could Feel the oily overlay of the dark one that manipulated not just the first bodies, but what he created from them. Pain, pain, pain, torture and twisting. That is what was inflicted on them. This is what happened to his friends, and what was left of their hroa.
Pain, grief, and the oily nausea inducing twisted together and kept hold of his attention. Gilriant’s eyes were wide open but he saw nothing. Locked within the memories of not only those that suffered, but also those that were harmed in the hands of the twisted beings in turn. A horrific legacy of pain, terror and corruption.
Anything outside that was happening barely registered. Not the end of the attack. Not the fact that thankfully there were no injuries. Not the concern of those with him. The only thing that started to break through was when Haldir got up on the horse behind him. Then Gilriant twitched and closed his eyes. Still not capable of any other outward reaction. Inward he mentally fled to the branches of the deeply rooted tree. Wrapping his arms around the trunk of it. The storm was still outside those branches but they kept it from further inflicting any harm to his mind and soul.
Very vaguely he got the impression that they were moving. Fast. Horses hooves pounding on the ground. The sensations muffled not quite penetrating the storm that surrounded and filled. Gilriant had no idea how long that lasted. When they hit the inner wards of Imladris that he could feel. They were protective and comforting. Which helped when there was a moment that the storm threatened to rip him out of the branches of the tree he took shelter in. Thankfully that didn’t last long.
When the storm quieted, it took Gilriant a moment to notice. It was almost like a blanket had been dropped on it and completely smothered the turmoil. Slowly he started loosening his grip, wary that it might still linger. Carefully, cautiously he started to emerge from the branches and peer outside the sheltering presence. Harry blinked, oh he must have opened his eyes again at some point.
Focusing his eyes, Gilriant realized he was surrounded by his family. Haldir was on one side, Atar on the other, Elrond directly in front of him. The others were nearby, their concern easy to pick up on. His brother had his hands to either side of his face in a gentle grip, staring into his eyes. Blinking again he inhaled, not able to stop the tears that started to roll down his face even if he tried. His gorge rose as the memories tried to crash back into him. Elrond’s gift shifted as someone put a container in front of him. Hands helped him lean forward and he emptied the contents of his stomach into it.
He could still feel his brother’s hand on him, helping keep a shield between him and the horrors Gilriant had Seen. Once he was sure he wouldn’t gag again he sat back the sobs shaking his body, even as he let others tend to him. Still highly disoriented Harry was having difficulty where anything was. He could tell he was gripping Haldir’s hand on his right and Maglor’s on his left, while Elrond remained nearby. Comforting words as he just let the emotion flow out. There was no stemming that flow. No denying it.
When it finally slowed to a stop, he felt completely drained. Too exhausted by it to really feel any more emotions. Too physically tired to even keep his eyes open all the way. He shivered and he felt Elrond’s vibrantly warm hand cupping his face again. There was a faintly distressed sound and a blanket was tucked around him. When Gilriant swallowed and licked his lips, he was helped to sit up and take some sips of water. He just couldn’t let go of the hands holding his to do anything. Too tired to sleep, yet his thoughts were a buzz in his brain. A very odd disconnect considering they should be moving sluggishly.
“Well,” he started in a hoarse voice, “That was unexpected.” There was a short huff and Maglor pressed a kiss to his forehead. “You are remarkably good at the art of understatement hinya.” A smile twitched on his face and then another frantic thought pushed to the forefront of his mind. “Was anyone hurt? Is everyone okay?” There was a quick reassurance from Haldir at his anxious question. “Everyone is fine. Your warning gave them more than enough time to be ready.” A small huff escaped Gilriant. “I’m a living orc detector, yay.” Tired sarcasm threaded his voice.
Gilriant could feel his brother’s internal debate before he asked gently, “Can you tell us what happened?” Now he was fairly certain his brother already knew what happened. He was likely the one that managed to calm the storm. Equally likely that he got a glimpse of what Harry had experienced, their bond was strong enough these days for that. He equally knew if he didn’t feel up to answering Elrond wouldn’t press. This was more for his benefit to help him start working through everything.
“At first, it just felt, bad.” Hesitatingly with starts and stops he began. “Painful. Then when they got close, I could See. Everything. About them I mean.” Gilriant’s voice was rough sounding, and the water was offered again to him to sip. He took it, knowing he had to be slightly dehydrated still. “How they were created, what they have done. It was all pretty overwhelmingly horrific, and sad. Felt some of it too.” There was an inhale at that admission, but no one interrupted him. “Wasn’t prepared for that, didn’t know how to defend from it. Lost in it. Haldir . . Haldir helped. Provided some kind of protection. Pretty sure I’d be in worse shape without it. Thank you.”
“No need to thank me. I will always protect you from what I can.” Haldir replied quietly. “Still deserve thanks. Don’t want you to think I ever take it for granted.” After all, Harry had far too often in the past known what it felt like to be expected to be the protector. And blamed if he was not, regardless of his age and ability.
“Pretty much lost track of anything physical until you quieted the storm in my mind. Thank you brother, and please don’t tell me I shouldn’t thank you too.” He could faintly pick up Elrond’s amusement. His brother still had a firm and gentle grip on him, helping him work through this. “Well at least now I know. Can figure out how to deal with it. Should make it easier next time.”
At the numerous protests he opened up his eyes and gave everyone in the room a very unimpressed look. “And now we are back to what’s better, trying it now while you all can protect and help me with it? Or being far from here sometime and getting dragged under?” They couldn’t really counter that argument. It didn’t mean they wouldn’t try. However everyone knew how badly it could have gone under other circumstances. Just because Gilriant was right, didn’t mean they had to like it.
“Can you try to get some sleep?” Elrond asked in the same gentle tone. “Don’t, don’t want to dream.” At that response he could feel the flicker of sadness in his brother. “Then I will do my best to make sure you do not.” Considering it, Gilriant had one more requisition. “Atar, play for me, please?” There was a fairly smooth transition from Maglor being on his side, to switching to Elrond taking the spot there. Sagging back, he fully closed his eyes.
The music from Atar’s harp winding around him and offered comfort. With that, and trusting in his brother, Harry let himself fall into sleep.
***
Gilriant was almost amused when he ‘woke’ in Mandos’ halls with his hair already in blacksmith braids and the apron on. Either Irmo approved of his plans today or his brain just decided they were going to get right to it.
He easily wound his way through the halls, a pleased little smile as he noted the increased number of people moving along them. No longer isolating like they had in the past, the elves healing here were much more inclined to visit each other. Along with a select few elves that had been invited for visiting. Namo was still a little wary of having mass visitation but had been approving more visitors slowly. He had given up on saying who Fingon could visit, so it wasn’t that unusual to see his cousin wandering the halls.
Dashing into Celebrimbor’s area, he was happy that this already seemed to be some sort of forge work day. Both of his cousins were present, dressed in a similar manner to him and hovering over something on the workbench. “Well look at you, suitably dressed I would say.” Amused at Tyelpe’s comments, Gilriat did a little twirl. “Yes. I had a lesson in the forge today. While I don’t think I’ll specialize in that, it makes sense to have some good basic skills.” Maeglin’s greeting was more of a quiet smile. It still heartened him to see his dark-eyed cousin seeking out other’s company.
He got a side hug from both as he moved to look at the workbench. “Whatever you are doing is a bit beyond this beginner. I was wondering if you might be willing to assist on a project. You can absolutely say no, I just thought it would nice to sorta have something from you I can carry with me.” The two smiths exchanged a glance and then Celebrimbor inclined his head. “What is the project?”
As this was a dream-state for Gilriant, he had a little leeway about what he could manifest or bring with him. So he focused and the prototype weapon along with plans Maglor had worked on so far appeared on the workbench. Thankfully being an elf had added in his ability to recall things. “Atar was thinking that there should be a way to make the two pieces of the weapon lock together and separate again. This way I can carry them as close range weapons as well as the option for the full sized glaive.” He started explaining as the pair bent over the work. “Atar has some special metal that comes from the world I was born in, there is a race that has some similarities to the dwarves but looks much different. The metal is called dverger silver and once properly forged is unbreakable. It only takes in what makes it stronger and rejects all else.”
At his cousins’ bright eyed interest he gave them a slightly apologetic look. “Per the agreement he made with them it is not permitted for him to give the metal to anyone save one. That same person will be the only one he’s allowed to teach the forging of the metal.” Cocking his head to the side. “I can say I will do my best if I ever visit as my physical self to bring something to show you.” He gave a small shrug. “I will have to visit for something entirely unrelated at one point that will not allow me to stay.”
With a nod the pair turned back to the weapon, Celebrimbor running a fingertip along the side of the blade. “This, if I am not mistaken, looks similar to the spear Gil-Galad favored.” Tyelpe’s voice was quiet. This was a slightly precarious topic in some ways. “Yes, I apparently inherited some facility with it from Grandfather. I was thinking, and if you were okay with it, if we forged one of the materials here I could do any rune work to strengthen it, and maybe he could have it?” After a moment, the jewel smith gave a slow nod. “Yes, I think I would rather like that. Even if you had to pick something as plebeian as a weapon, it's a new concept for it.” An amused snort escaped Maeglin at that comment.
“Your Atar is the bard of the bunch, right?” That question came from Maeglin. Tyelepe was very aware of who he descended from. There were quiet conversations about it, when Celebrimbor felt up to it. “Yes, and he’ll be the first to admit that while he is a passable smith, he is not the best at design.” Turning the forged weapon over in his hands the jewel-smith commented. “Slightly better than passable, this is solid work.”
Setting the pieces down he turned to the plans. “Though I have to agree, you were smart to bring the plans to us.” Dragging a stool over, Gilriant took a seat and watched the other two pull out slate to sketch their ideas on. Nothing wrong with absorbing some teachings from two great smiths.
Of course when Narvi showed up it was three great smiths. Also the conversation devolved to insults in Khudzal which had all the elves cracking up. At least there was one dwarf who didn’t care that he knew the language. And apparently also demanded the right to give instruction from time to time so he knew the ‘proper’ way to do things. Though Gilriant was under the impression it was also the master smith’s way of saying thanks for arranging to have him visit in the first place.
***
When an eagle’s cry split the air, Gilriant grinned. He was big enough, skilled enough, now he should be able to go flying with his friend. “Hedwig, what do you think? Shall we?” His oldest friend tilted her head considering and then gave a trill of agreement. Now he just had to let one more person know. This time of day Atar would probably be . . .
He found Maglor with Glorfindel working on sparring practice with some of the Imladris guard. Gilriant practically bounced up to the fence with a wide grin on his face. As soon as the bard spotted him, “No, absolutely not.” Well that wasn’t too much of a surprise. “Atar, you said I could when I was more experienced, bigger, stronger and if Hedwig agreed, which she has.” The older elf shot a look of betrayal at the ice phoenix.
Glorfindel sauntered over. “What’s going on and why aren’t you in your lessons?” Gilriant grinned at him. “I’m not in my lesson because they haven’t fixed the archery target for me yet. Gwaendil is here.” The captain nodded, “Your eagle friend, now why would Maglor . . ah, going flying then?” Harry did his best to refrain from bouncing in excitement. “Yes!” “No.” “Atar, I met all the requirements. I’ll be safe and learning some things that can maybe save my life someday.”
Maglor opened his mouth, shut it, and then scowled. “I’d say send Fawkes too but we all know he’s an enabler.” From his perch on the fence the fire phoenix gave an amused trill, as if agreeing with Glorfindel. “Fine, Fawkes stays here. Hedwig, I trust you to keep him out of too much trouble.” Gilriant beamed a smile. “Thank you Atar!” He started to dash towards the area Gwaendil would have landed. “Make sure you are back by dinner!”
Swearing to himself Gilriant knew he was cutting it close. Hewig refused to port him closer so he was flying as fast as he could. Which when he reached for the winds was quite fast instead. The only saving grace was that Atar did not say before dinner. It would be splitting hairs but he’d take what he could. In fact they were just starting to serve dinner so he arrowed into the dining room and banked sharply.
Thankfully he’d had enough experience to make a smooth transition while coming in for a landing. His form blurred and enlarged until the elf was grabbing his seat between Elrond and Maglor and sitting down. Ignoring the sputtering coming from further down the table.“You’re late.” Gilriant gave a cheerful smile as Hedwig landed on the perch attached to his chair. “I am not. You said by dinner, it's dinner, I'm here.”
“Well if that’s what you told him he’s right,” Celebrian contributed from the other side of Elrond. “See, I’m right, nothing bad happened and I had a great time flying with the eagles. As agreed Hedwig stayed with me the whole time.” His sister-by-marriage looked delighted while his brother . . . decidedly less so. “Oh! That must have been great fun. Did they teach you any tricks?” Glad to have an ally, he grinned at her. “Gwaendil taught me a few, so did Gwaihir.”
“Wait, were we the ones that didn’t know?” Turning, he grinned at the shocked and betrayed looks that his nephews were shooting at him. “You mean you hadn’t figured it out? Wow I would have figured you two could recognize a great prank, but apparently not. Raven’s don’t have green eyes.” The muttering about idiots could be heard coming from Erestor had him snickering. “I’m guessing you thought they would have figured it out by now. So who won the pool?” More sounds of outrage at Arwen’s cheerful answer. “I did!”
***
“Just because Atar hasn’t picked up on it, doesn’t mean no one else has, you know.” Glorfindel gave his student a bewildered look as the two of them were taking the time to check over practice equipment. “And please don’t tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about.” Gilriant didn’t quite glare at him. “I thought you Atar would like some flowers.” The flowers that had been showing up in their rooms practically screamed the captain’s feelings. Erestor had drilled the language of flowers into him for multiple reasons. Not just the courting type. They could have political ramifications if you sent the wrong flowers to someone.
He managed to not sigh, “And he’s not going to see them as anything but flowers. If you think about it hard enough you might realize why.” At Glorfindel’s seeming loss for words he continued. “Now normally I wouldn’t want to meddle, for a variety of reasons. But I’m getting really tired of Atar trying to review courting customs with me when we both know the reason Erestor keeps dropping those books off in our rooms.” Gilriant gave the captain a pointed look.
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Glorfindel tried anyway. There really was no guideline here for him in this situation. There have only been a handful of times where one might possibly be trying to court someone’s parent. It just wasn’t something that happened, except for the rare cases of adoption. “Suuuuuure you don’t.” Gilriant just gave him a look. “And for the record, hurt my Atar and I’ll have one of the eagles drop you off to Manwe, or maybe just Eonwe. I swear he might be a closet romantic.” The captain paled as the young one’s friendship with the eagles made that a very real threat.
Finished with his section of the gear, Gilriant moved to walk out, stopping to pat Glorfindel on the shoulder. “Good talk, now don’t forget what I said.”
***
Running his fingers over the harp’s strings Gilriant had a half smile on his face as he plucked them and left ringing tones that blended together. That was one of the joys of growing up, gaining the reach to play the harp. With his Atar, being taught by, or for him. As much as they had many other instruments this was something the bard kept coming back to. There was power in the strings. He could feel it in each vibration that spread out in the air. It may not be his primary instrument, but he certainly could use it, and learn from it.
“Sometimes I wonder if I am doing enough for you,” Maglor’s quiet voice interrupted his current train of thought. Not enough to make him fumble the song but it did have him draw it to a close. “Why would you think that? Atar, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for your help. You always knew what to say when I needed it. Even when I didn’t know what I needed, you gave it to me.” Gilriant shot him a perplexed look. “Yet there are times you still get hurt, and there are things I cannot do for you.”
Ah, it was going to be one of those days. Rare, but not completely unexpected. “No one person can be all things. Even the Valar have areas they specialize in that the others cannot. Why would you expect from yourself what they do not do?” Seeing that Maglor had no way to refute that, Gilriant gave his Atar a small smile. “Now you sound like your brother.” That made Harry break into a wide grin. “Well you did raise us both. You also were part of the talk things out with Elrond team.” That line of thought also gave him an idea.
Getting up he reached for Maglor’s hand. “Come, let's get Elrond and then all three of us play together.” They all had bad days from time to time. Sometimes the worst of it could be mitigated just by spending time with loved ones. Sometimes you needed time to yourself. Sometimes you needed to be reminded of the good you put into the world. Gilriant knew that Maglor considered raising his sons part of the good he did. So a little reminder they were there and enjoyed spending time with him could help.
***
The greenhouses in Imladris went up first, then one in Hobbiton for the Boffin family. It was a joint project with a few of the hobbit families helping provide the raw materials and a good part of the labor. The glass Gilriant and Maglor provided over some protests from Bella’s son Berlo Boffin. He was the current head of the family, having lost Bella the year before.
That death was hard on Gilriant. While he was not extremely close to her, she was still a friend. The grief that ripped through him made him understand why many elves did isolate themselves from the other races. For he knew that it would be difficult to cope with constant loss like this. Time was a funny thing, the more you experienced of it, the faster it flowed by you. So a dear friend with a short lifespan could be gone in a blink of an eye.
Perhaps when he was older, he would lessen his ties with the shorted lived races. But for now he planned on keeping them, cherishing them, and building new ones. Even if it hurt, to him happiness far outweighed the pain of loss. Most of his early life was full of grief. It may feel more intense now as an elf but he knew how to live with it. Gilriant also knew his role in Middle Earth was not confined to just the elves. He needed other races to trust him as well. How could they do that if he only held himself apart? So here he was, working alongside hobbits and helping build their first greenhouse.
“You really didn’t need to provide all this glass on your own.” Gilriant accepted the cup of water Berlo passed him. “Are we not friends?” Berlo blinked at that question. “Of course we are.” Harry smiled. “Did your family not welcome mine? Let me practice my gifts on the fields without knowing if it would be a benefit or not?” The hobbit replied slowly. “Well yes, but that is what friends do for each other.” The elf grinned triumphantly. “Exactly so. This is merely that. I had the means to provide it for you. You’ll note I’m not offering for the entire Shire, just my friends.”
At that Berlo gave a sigh. “I’m not sure why I keep trying to argue with you young elf, you always have an answer for everything.” Gilriant cheerfully saluted him with the cup. “Well I appreciate it, it helps me refine my argument skills with my relatives. They are more stubborn.” At that the hobbit laughed. “Well if you are an example I can see why you might need to practice.
Berlo studied him, “Something on your mind?” Gilriant started to shake his head no, then paused. “Growing pains mostly. I think Atar would be happier if he could wrap me in cotton, rather than let me out trying new things. I know I’m young, but I’m not a child anymore.” The hobbit gave him a knowing nod. “That awkward stage between youth and adult. Well from a parent’s perspective, it's hard to let go. It’s your job to protect your child, and no matter how old they get, they will always be your child. I doubt that’s much different from hobbit to elf.”
“Try being the youngest elf among all the elves, it's worse.” Berlo winced. “I see how it could be. Well just keep acting adult like and stand your ground. Use that logic of yours with them, you are pretty good with it.” The hobbit paused. “Of course logic doesn’t help much with an overprotective family so I wish you luck with that.” That made Gilriant snort, then reply dryly. “Thanks.”