Love Across the Ages

Translations of Sindarin:
Melathamin = "My Love"
Meleth - "Love"
Melethrilamin - "My Lover"
hervess nin - "My Wife"

Chapter 3

It was lunchtime when she emerged from Elrond's study, feeling wrung out as never before. It had not hurt, but the concentration, and the sensation of elvish magic passing through her, and the intense meeting of minds had shaken her. She made her way to a stone bench and sank on it, closing her eyes a moment to gather herself.

The revelations had had been astounding and the subsequent discussion had only added to her awe and bewilderment.

She was Elladan's grand daughter many times removed.

Looking at Elrond's face she had been hit by the stricken expression upon it, and was even more so glad she had never mentioned Arwen's fate, for the Master of Rivendell knew now, for certain, that he would lose one son, Elladan. She dare not say that he would also lose the other son.

She rubbed her temples and sighed, and then looked up as a body sat next to her, the quality of silence made her turn towards the Elladan. The elf opened his mouth to speak. "I…" For once he was lost for words.

Joanna gave an uncertain laugh. "Yeah. It's strange. Two days ago, I did not even know that such as this existed for real, and now, I find I am an integral part of it, part elvish, or peredhel, as you call it, and…" Her voice trailed off and she swallowed, swearing softly. "Damn. This is unbelievable shit."

"What is shit?" Elladan said.

Joanna shook her head. "It doesn't matter Elladan. You really don’t need to know." She said wryly. "I'm sorry, I just cannot call you grandfather. You look younger than me."

"I don’t want you to!" The elf actually looked horrified at the thought and Joanna smiled.

"Then I won't."

They fell silent and Joanna closed her eyes listening to the melody of the land around her, she was starting to already feel in tune with the ebb and flow of nature. She sighed softly.

"It is a good thing, to be an elf." Elladan said softly, his voice pensive.

Joanna opened her eyes and looked at him. With sudden insight she said softly. "And with what you know now?"

Elladan was silent, his gaze distant, his face troubled. "I do not know Jehanna."

"What if…" She stopped then continued softly. "My very existence might have a bearing on you now. What have I done?"

Elladan turned to her and smiled. She looked away quickly and down at her hands, realising they had clenched into fists.

His hand reached out and rested on hers. "You have done nothing Joanna, whether you be here or not, it is, will be my decision to make. One cannot choose falsely, the fate of a peredhel."

"But now that you have seen the consequences of your choice…"

"You will understand Jehanna, when it becomes your time to choose."

"I… what? Choose? Me?" Joanna looked up at him in shock.

Elladan just smiled and then looked up at the approach of another. It was Elrond. The younger elf stood and bowed to his father, before clasping him on the shoulder and turning to Joanna. "I will leave you with Elrond. He will be able to explain further Jehanna."

Elladan walked away and Joanna saw Elrohir approach and touch his twin's arm. Elrond sat down and was silent, but she felt his presence acutely. One could not ignore the Master of Rivendell.

Finally he spoke. "So you are of my blood Jehanna. I both rejoice and weep. Rejoice that my line continues, that I can look upon you, and know that my blood is in you, and that you are one of my beloved descendants. I weep that it must mean the sacrifice of one of my sons to a mortal life."

"I did not wish to bring you pain milord. I do not even how I came to be here. I… it is a shock to me, to learn this about my past and myself. I was adopted, I never knew my true parents."

"That saddens me, for we cannot know what happened." Elrond sighed and then looked at her. "You have lived a mortal life." Elrond fell silent and then he looked at her and she was shocked to see a deep sadness in his eyes. "And you can continue to live a mortal life, if you so choose."

"If… I don't understand milord."

"Call me Elrond." The elf fell silent. "As a peredhel, and because you are now here, you possess the life of the Eldar, yet only whilst I remain in Middle Earth. When I do go west, there is a decision that my children must make; to either stay, and become mortal, or go into the West with their kindred." He paused and then continued softly. "I know now what choice Elladan will make."

Joanna was silent, biting her lip. She could not tell him. Her hands twisted and instead she asked. "And now I must make the choice? Though I come from the future, from a land where elves do not reside. A world where I was born mortal. How can it work? How can I choose to go back? What would happen Elrond, if I chose to become elfkind, yet I do not belong in this time? Would I be sent back as an elf? To live forever whilst all those around me die? Or would the choice be taken from me?"

"I do not know child. I truly do not know. This matter is unique." Then the Master of Rivendell stood up decisively and smiled at her, holding out his hand. "But enough of this talk now. It is a time to rejoice for one of our young have returned, and I wish to show you what is your heritage Jehanna. Come."

Joanna smiled, feeling her mood lighten and she stood up, taking his arm.

The next few days passed in a blur, and if there were odd moments of sadness, they were eclipsed by the delight Joanna felt in everything Elvish. Her wonder and awe as she saw for herself their skill, and their beauty. Each day a desire grew in her, to live this life, to learn it, and her own world seemed ever more drab, and dreary, so dark and full of pain. Some part of her knew it was purely the city of Rivendell, that outside, dark forces moved, and that the blond elf, whom she was missing more every day, was out there in the thick of it, in danger, yet still the yearning persisted.

It was on the ninth day of her arrival in Rivendell, when her thoughts had turned more and more towards Glorfindel, wondering if he was safe, that she began to grow restless. Her attention often wandered, and Elrond had finally murmured something in Elvish and left her to her own thoughts. She now sat upon a stone seat and let her mind wander.

Even though she knew Glorfindel would be safe, or at least, had read that he returned safely, she still could not stop the worry slowly gnawing at her. Such thoughts disturbed her; it was all very well fantasising about him, and she had enough, that her friends teased her mercilessly. But now she had met him and to know that he was real, and to know that he was vulnerable to arrows and swords, that fate had changed with her very arrival, hell yes, it did worry her.

Glorfindel was so much more than what was said about him, and he was still a mystery. There was a hardness to him, and she could not deny that it excited her, but she also knew that he had within him that joy of life, that light that not only filled him and shone outward, but that she knew coloured all around him. Would it shine in her world? Could she even ask it to?

She snorted then and gripped her hands together. Who was she kidding? She couldn’t stay here, and he sure as hell could not come back with her.

That turned her mind to the choice. One she had never, in her wildest dreams thought she would have to make. It was the stuff of fairytales, and fairytales just did not happen to people like Joanna.

Startled calls for Elrond made her jump up and run towards the gate in time to see a group of elves descend upon a white horse. Her heart jumped into her throat. It was Glorfindel's horse but he was not on her! Panic clutched her chest, threatening to choke her, and then she saw the bundle upon the mare's back as it began to topple. The elves caught the burden and rushed it to the house of healing. She saw Elrond walk into the house with calm urgency and shut the door behind him.

Joanna stood undecided, biting her lip, and yet something urged her to follow Elrond. She approached slowly, hesitated with her hand upon the door, then, taking a deep breath stepped in. She could not explain the call, she shut the door behind her and stood watching her many times grandfather work his skill upon Frodo.

On feet that did not seem her own she moved towards the bed, trembling at the sight of the frail hobbit, so waxy he looked, his eyes rolled back and nearly white, his face drawn in lines of horror and suffering. She averted her eyes from the glint of gold around his neck. With faltering steps she moved around to the other side of the bed and knelt, looking at Elrond. His eyes were unfocused, his entire attention caught up in his task as his lips moved soundlessly, yet she could hear the echo of him within her mind and the room. She took up Frodo's hand, flinching at the icy limpness of it, and then reached out and lay a hand upon Elrond's, as it rested on the hobbit's forehead.

The Master of Rivendell's eyes flew open in shock, focusing on her. She smiled silently. It felt natural to do this, she closed her eyes and allowed Elrond to use her strength and vitality and joined with him, lending him all the healing desire that filled her, that seemed to have awakened here in Rivendell.

*********************************

Glorfindel sighed wearily as he led the remaining hobbits into the safe haven of Rivendell. Showing them to his rooms, he allowed the weary travellers to rest, gesturing for the other elves to care for them and made haste towards Elrond. His news could not wait, the nine, and thus Sauron knew Frodo had the ring.

And he needed to know if the ringbearer had survived. Had to know. The use of magic upon the Ford of Bruinen, had let him deal with the filth of Sauron, but still so much hinged upon the small being, whom Glorfindel could foresee, shaking the world with small, furry footed feet.

Then he stopped and his eyes widened as Joanna stepped out from the house of healing. He could not help but be amazed and a feeling, one he thought he would never feel again, welled up in his heart. She was beautiful. She looked different, her hair hung long and straight, the thick, dark strands reached her mid back and was held back by a thin circlet of plated metal. Long graceful folds of deep burgundy fell to her feet, trimmed with silver. His eyes moved to her face, noting her arched eyebrows, her ears, now revealed by her hair pulled back behind her ears, showed just the faintest hint of points.

For the first time in many years Glorfindel was stunned. He had not foreseen this. Had not foreseen such… she was Elvish. As Elvish as he, no matter the human blood mixed within her. His heart thumped and he swallowed, rooted to the ground.

And it hit him then, as his mind registered what she wore, what it said about her lineage.

Then she saw him, and the joy that spread across her face, unbidden, and unknowing made him gasp and his heart lurch peculiarly in a way he had not felt since... he stopped as another revelation shook him, since… Idril.

She was running to him with unabashed exuberance and flung herself into his arms wounding them around his neck. "You are safe!!" And then she blushed and stepped back in confusion.

She was still human enough to colour then, but Glorfindel did not mind. In fact he found it entrancing upon her features.

"Yes." He sighed wearily. "The ringbearer?"

"He is recovered." She smiled at him and her eyes were alight with a peculiar joy. “Grandfather was able to save him."

Glorfindel blinked, taking a moment to register that by grandfather she meant Elrond.

"Grandfather?"

"I am Elladan's granddaughter many times removed." Her voice was filled with wonder.

Glorfindel was rocked, knowing instantly what it meant, and he thought of Elrond, his heart aching for his friend, for he knew that Elrond's offspring would stay. He could foresee the love between Arwen and Aragorn and thus Elrond's daughter's most likely choice. And now, here was living evidence of Elladan's decision. Elrohir would not leave his brother.

"I am amazed." He said quietly and looked at her. "You look beautiful Jehanna."

None of the elves said the variation of her name the way this one did, and as it rolled from his tongue she shivered. Her blush deepened and she lowered her eyes, her fingers nervously fingering the elegant folds of her dress. "Thank you Glorfy… Glorfindel."

He politely declined to comment on her slip, as she flushed again. Yet strangely he did not mind that she seemed to have shortened his name within her mind. It warmed him.

"I must see Elrond." He said.

"Of course. He is with Frodo and Mithrandir."

Glorfindel smiled and moved away, feeling a strange reluctance to leave her presence. He was conscious of her eyes, fixed on his back as he walked to the building that housed the hobbit.

The next few days were a flurry of activity and Joanna found herself almost forgotten and at a loss as to what to do next. Glorfindel often visited her, but he was distracted, his face troubled. She so wanted to tell him what she knew was to happen, but she couldn't, and it galled her. But with each visit, and each piece of knowledge they shared about each other, she felt herself grow more and more aware of him, until he was constantly in her thoughts.

Thus, today, she sat upon a stone bench, trailing her fingers in a pond that eddied into a water garden from the river Bruinen. She stared pensively at her wavering reflection as the water rippled through it. She still marvelled at how she had changed, and even now, her thoughts dwelled more and more upon what would happen, she would be returning soon, and her heart ached.

They were in the council, deciding the fate of the ring. Her gaze was troubled as her thoughts moved onward. At least she knew Glorfindel would not be fighting in the coming battles, but he would be leaving to go west and thus be gone forever.

She was not sure if she would be too. Was she ready to give up everything in her life? She had friends, she had people who cared for her. They would worry, they would mourn, thinking she had disappeared, most likely murdered with her body dumped in some deserted back lot.

She bit her lip, feeling herself torn. And what would happen? Would she continue to live an elvish life? If she made the choice, and she suspected that perhaps she already had, on a deeper level, if she returned, would it still be as it was? In the modern world, the entire globe had been explored. There was no West, at least not in the sense of Middle Earth, or if it was, it was hidden in another realm. But even so, would she be doomed to live forever? She would live a fugitive way of life, moving location when whispers began to circulate about her youthfulness. She would live to see those she loved dying around her. She would keep herself distant, afraid to love, knowing that she could not tell them the truth.

And yet, she felt a duty and obligation to her life in the mundane. And truly, would she be happy in the West? It was a vague nebulous location, she had no idea what awaited her there. Tolkien had always been vague about what it was, what it meant. And she was not a true elf, she did, in reality only have a trace amount of such lineage.

Would her choice even work, if she made such a one?

She shook her head feeling confusion reign. There was murmuring however, which distracted her thoughts and she looked up to see a group of men, elves, dwarves and hobbits emerge from the place where Elrond's council had sat. The elves looked worried, she noted the men with them, unable to still her curiosity. So here they were, all in the flesh. Her eyes moved to Aragorn, but he did not approach her, instead he moved off and she saw a tall dark haired elvish woman in the distance, Arwen. She turned her gaze to the other man and sucked in her breath. His gaze was focused on her and he approached her with a curious and familiar look on his face, one men, no matter where they were, seemed to adopt when approaching a woman. She knew she would provide an intriguing question to him. She looked human, but wore elvish clothes. He really was quite handsome close up. Not as beautiful as Glorfindel, but still very attractive, besides she was a modern red-blooded girl. Hardly as if she was attached, why not flirt a little?

The man smiled. "Hello. I am Boromir of Gondor."

She sucked in her breath and then smiled. "Hi. I'm Joanna."

His face creased, as he looked at her. "Your accent and speech is strange m'lady. You do not then reside here?"

"No, I am…" She paused. "…visiting." She finished lamely.

"I see." She saw him studying her and knew that glint. It was the glint of interest. "You appear human m'lady."

"I am human Sir Boromir, but I do have elvish blood within me."

Boromir grinned and sat down. "Indeed, and beautiful as well. But I do not think you need the elvish blood to be beautiful."

Joanna blushed. Well one thing for this place, a girl could never have a complex about the way she looked. Everyone seemed to be complimenting her. Perhaps modern men could learn something from these people.

"Thank you." She felt at a loss of what to say. And therein lay the problem. She knew this man, well, she knew his fate and meeting him made it less of a story, and more a reality. This man was going to become a pincushion, all for the sake of that small ring. She felt a strange ache in her heart as she looked into his clear and noble eyes. He truly wanted to help his people and it was that desire that was exploited. Yet his interest in her was evident, who was she to deny him this small source of enjoyment, knowing what he had endured with his father, and what he will endure upon the journey ahead?

Why did she have to meet these people? She could never look at Tolkien's works again with this knowledge. She almost wished it was a dream, that these people were just imaginations, but they were as real as she, hell, she was a part of them as were all humans in her world. All doubt had now been erased. It was far too vivid and logical to be a dream.

“May I ask why you visited milady?” He smiled at her and she felt her own interest quicken. She smiled back.

“It is more an accident than anything else. But I met Glorfindel upon the road, and he escorted me here. It is a very long tale.”

“I am not going anywhere just yet Joanna.” His lips formed her name strangely. “That is a name I have not heard before.”

"It is common where I come from.” Joanna smiled.

Boromir laughed, a full, genuine laugh that warmed his face, crinkled his face and lit his eyes. “You are determined to be mysterious.”

“It is not by choice Sir Boromir.”

“Just Boromir Joanna, just Boromir.”

"I am not even sure as to where to start Boromir." She smiled at him as he bent his head towards her to pay attention.

"How about the beginning?"

She laughed and choosing her words carefully began to weave a semi true, though embroidered tale.