Picking Up The Pieces by Grundy  

Asking Questions

Tindomiel glanced at Maeglin from time to time as they prepared dinner. For all they’d known each other less than a day, he worked with her as easily as if they’d known each other for years. It was surprisingly comfortable.

Given the choice of helping her or staying with Anairon, Tasariel, and Califiriel all afternoon, he’d picked her immediately, not that she blamed him in the least.

Tas meant well, but she often ended up straining Anairon’s patience by trying to anticipate him while he was working – which generally went badly when he was trying something new and improvising as he went.

Tindomiel had given up worrying about it several years ago, after Grandma Anairë suggested she let the pair work it out between them. (Apparently, she’d had to do something similar with Grandpa Nolo when they were young, hard as that was to picture.) Cali would keep them from quarreling too badly – probably. But that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be tense moments.

In other words, avoiding the three of them at the moment was a really good decision for someone newly returned.

She’d only appreciated in retrospect how lucky she’d been with Uncle Moryo and Uncle Aiko – especially Uncle Aiko. He’d been a bit out of it for a few days, and slightly overwhelmed when they first arrived in Gondolin, but otherwise fine. He’d held up alright under his cousins picking back up where they’d left off with family quarrels, and even managed to play peacekeeper for a bit. By the time they’d reached Tirion, he had been eager to see everything and everyone, especially his family.

When Uncle Gil-galad had returned a few years later, despite generally being deemed ‘ready’, he was uneasy with large crowds and had trouble with anything to do with fire – candles, cookfires or campfires, fireworks… He’d even been nervous about the fireplaces for the first few months. (Fortunately, there wasn’t much need for fires in Tirion. He’d gone there first, curious to meet his grandmother and find Elrond – who he’d firmly expected to find in Noldorin territory.) He’d gotten better, but it had taken time, effort, and her father being both healerish and tactful for several years.

After that experience, Tindomiel had been less inclined to argue that her actions with Uncle Aiko and Uncle Moryo hadn’t been a little precipitous and maybe should have been thought out a bit better. She was more cautious these days, not that she’d brought anyone else out of the Halls. She mostly just visited and tried to convince relatives to return. Occasionally she walked someone to Namo, but she let him handle the actual returning part, and Estë supervise the newly returned until she and Irmo deemed them ready to leave Lórien.

The ‘convince them’ tactic had worked with Uncle Aryo – at least she was claiming it had, really he’d probably made up his mind as soon as he’d heard he had a younger brother, which was technically still her doing – and Gil-galad and his parents. But it had stalled with the rest of the Noldorin relatives. She’s been trying really hard with Finduilas, the holdout she felt like she could do something about.

Maeglin’s chosen route – well south of the usual road to Gondolin or Tirion from Lorien – didn’t sound to her like someone who felt himself ready to face more than a few people at a time, even if they had let him leave Lorien. It was also a bit worrying that he’d chosen to depart before he’d settled into life well enough to remember the geography. Irmo and Estë were usually much more vigilant about that. Having elves wandering around without any idea where they were was something they usually tried to avoid. (She wondered from time to time what had happened when the first elves returned to make them so vigilant on that particular point.)

She didn’t know enough about Maeglin yet to know whether his current quietness was normal, a side effect of him being newly returned, shyness, or something else altogether.  Gramma Itarillë didn’t talk about him very often, on the grounds that it was too painful a subject. The only things she had said were all emphatic about not giving any credence to the ‘slurs’ and ‘vile rumors’ that had prevailed in Ennor. It was actually best not to get her started on that subject. (Unfortunately for her, Anariel was going to have no way around it – their great-grandmother was so proud of her for being the only one not taken in.)

Regardless of whether his lack of conversation was normal or not, Maeglin was a soothing presence.

He had confessed immediately to not recognizing any of the fruits, grains, or greens that they were gathering. Not that she had expected he would – this area wasn’t very similar in climate to Doriath or original Gondolin as far as she knew. So she’d had to tell and show him what to look for.

He only needed to have her explain anything once. He listened intently, paying attention to her words, but taking in her actions and anything she was trying to demonstrate or point out as well. It was nice to have someone treat her as a competent instructor anywhere outside of the Academy or the Lambengolmor. Aside from Anairon, Tas, and Cali, few people did. It was one of the occupational hazards of being one of the youngest in the entire extended family.

She told him to leave the berries for her – there shouldn’t be any varieties hazardous to elves growing here, but better safe than sorry. She didn’t want him getting stomach cramps or the runs when he was fresh from Lorien. Besides, she would recognize which ones were ripe enough to pick more readily than someone who hadn’t seen them before.

But the greens and grains were easy enough to teach him. There were no ‘false friends’ to worry about here. Once Maeglin knew what to look for, he worked efficiently enough that gathering everything they needed for dinner took only a third of the time she would have needed on her own.

“You don’t have to help cook dinner, you can just hang out if you want,” she offered as they brought everything back. “I don’t mind. At least, I don’t as long as you talk so I don’t feel like I’m boring you.”

She smiled, hoping that would keep the comment from sounding like criticism. Maybe he was the silent type – although she felt like that wasn’t likely.

“No, I want to,” he replied. “It’s…nice to focus on something.”

She suspected he meant ‘something this simple’. All of her older siblings had said similar things after the Ring War, even Arwen. Maeglin seemed to be at ease with camp cooking, demonstrating the sort of competence only achieved by practice, so she supposed there might also be an element of comfort in doing familiar things as well.

“And I am curious to see what you will make of all this,” Maeglin added, with a smile so fleeting she might have missed it had she not been looking directly at him. It was there just long enough to reassure her that he did still smile.

“I really am not as terrible a cook as they made it sound,” she said with a sigh. “I’m just not allowed to experiment and expect anyone else to eat the results.”

“Fair enough,” he replied. “If it helps, I have also had experiments not turn out as expected. It’s just that in my case, no one had to eat the end product.”

She stared at him for a moment before bursting out laughing at the unexpected humor. The smile that yielded from Maeglin was wider and lasted longer.

“I assume these greens should be rinsed?” he continued, his tone almost identical to the one Anairon used whenever he’d just said something utterly ridiculous at a moment when she absolutely could not get caught laughing out loud. (Generally at court in Tirion, where it wasn’t unusual for the pair of them to try to make each other lose their composure during long, tedious public events. Without getting caught at it by their elders, of course. Getting caught lost the game, regardless of whether the other person had reacted.)

She nodded, and put water on to boil for the grain.

“I didn’t think to ask – is there anything you don’t like? To eat, I mean? We pooled what we had already for lunch, and we’ll probably do more of the same for lunch tomorrow. Breakfast is usually simple, and since Anairon’s making jam, toast and jam is kind of a no-brainer. But we usually hunt or gather as we go for dinner. No hunting tonight, obviously, but maybe tomorrow...”

Maeglin looked thoughtful.

“I do not know if any of what we have here will not be to my taste. I am fond of mushrooms if they are to be found, and I prefer to avoid asparagus if possible.”

“Very possible,” Tindomiel replied with a grin. “Seeing as I’ve never noticed any growing around here. That should make it pretty easy to avoid. We probably won’t have any luck with mushrooms, though – it’s the wrong season for them. The edible ones between here and Neldoreth are mostly autumn varieties, not late spring.”

Most Noldor didn’t like mushrooms, so it was good to know that he would happily eat them if they stumbled across any. Anairon had learned a variety of ways to prepare them, but more out of a desire to not have any gaps in his culinary capabilities than from any true liking for them.

“I will live,” Maeglin nodded.

Tindomiel reflected that he’d fit right in with her branch of the family when it came to the humor and sarcasm.

“So, tell me about you?” she suggested. “I mean, besides that you like mushrooms and can’t stand asparagus?”

He blinked.

“I… do not do well with broad open-ended questions,” he offered, sounding slightly uncertain. “Was there something in particular you wished to know?”

Tindomiel grinned.

“Favorite color? Hobbies? Person you can’t stand? I don’t know, pick a random fact and go. This isn’t an interrogation, just getting to know you. You can ask me questions too, but it’s no fair you asking if you’re not answering any yourself.”

She grinned to take any potential sting out of the words, and to her relief, Maeglin smiled and did as she asked. She was even more amused when he confessed the person he couldn’t stand – Salgant was her least favorite Lord of Gondolin, too. (Although in fairness, it wasn’t entirely his own fault. The steward of the Harp was downright obnoxious, detested by her, Tas, Cali, and Anairon alike.)

---

Dinner was downright merry that night. Anairon had succeeded in making jam – well, in making the jam he had in mind. None of them had been in any doubt that there would be jam in some form. Most of it had been packed away, to take to either Gondolin or Neldoreth, but one jar was left out for breakfast the next morning.

Though he’d warmed up to her, Tindomiel noticed that in the presence of the others he still seemed hesitant. He preferred to listen while they talked, and seemed almost surprised that Tas and Cali made efforts to include him in the conversation. Happily, they had enough sense to exempt him from the gentle (and also not so gentle) ribbing that cropped up occasionally.

Later that evening, after Maeglin had dropped off to sleep – and Tindomiel had touched his mind ever so gently to be sure it was true sleep, not feigned – the four cousins gathered at the edge of the dell for an impromptu council.

They made sure to keep to whispers or osanwë, not that Tindomiel thought he was likely to wake easily. He was far too exhausted.

“Tinwë, did you have something to do with this?”

It was Anairon who asked, but the looks on Tas and Cali said they’d been wondering the same thing. Now that Tindomiel thought about it, it was possible the girls had talked to him earlier during his jam making project time to be sure it would be him who brought it up first.

“No. I only brought people back once. And when I did, I was completely upfront about that being the plan. You were all there for it, so you should remember. I’d have said something to you if I was going to do it again!”

“It was a reasonable question,” Tas said, slightly defensively. “You did just visit the Halls right before he showed up.”

She didn’t say ‘and he’s not quite right’ but she didn’t have to – they’d all seen enough newly returned elves by now to know something was off with this one.

“I went to say hi to Finduilas and Uncle Ango, and see if there was any change there,” Tindomiel shrugged. “Which unfortunately there wasn’t. But I’ve never even seen him in the Halls. Like, at all. Nobody has. I have no idea where he’s been hiding, much less why he ended up all the way out here instead of on the way to Tirion. I would have thought he’d try to find Grandma Anairë first, or Aunt Alwë.”

All four of them glanced over to where Maeglin was sleeping. Tindomiel knew she was the only one who would use the description ‘like the dead’. But it was accurate – and odd. The newly returned occasionally slept slightly more than usual, but they were usually well rested, or Estë wouldn’t let them out of Lorien.

But Maeglin had been bone weary by the time they’d made noises about calling it a night – and they’d only done that for his benefit. Even Tas, the one among them who was most Mannish in her natural rhythms and consequently needed the most sleep, wasn’t anywhere near tired yet.

“I hope Namo told his parents,” she added.

“I hope Namo gave him a head start first,” Anairon muttered. “I don’t think my sister showing up would improve the evening. Or be all that restful for him, either.”

“Chicken,” Tindomiel retorted – but quietly.

She wasn’t entirely sure any of them were prepared for a surprise dose of Aunt Irissë. (If it happened, she might actually run away. Or better yet, take Aunt Irissë straight to Grandmother and then run away. She was pretty sure she and Anairon could be excused a sudden trip to Formenos if Grandma Anairë was focused on her daughter…and unlike other relatives, Uncle Moryo wouldn’t make fun of them for fleeing.)

Anairon only raised an eyebrow.

She sighed.

“Look, we’ll keep an eye on him. He wants to see Grandmother Melian – so we take him to Neldoreth. If there’s anything serious going on, she’ll know what to do.”

Anairon frowned, but he knew as well as she did that a maia related to Estë was far more competent than either of them to diagnose anything that might be amiss with Maeglin.

“Fine. But we’ll pass close enough to the Gondolin road that Tas and Cali won’t have far to go on their own. And maybe he’ll change his mind when he realizes how close we are to the city.”

Tindomiel didn’t feel like that was very likely, but she didn’t think it was worth provoking an argument. It took them less than a day out of their way compared to the most direct route. She didn’t see what difference half a day could make.

“Deal.”

She glanced at Maeglin.

“We should probably all get some sleep. It’ll be easier to keep an eye on him if we’re well rested ourselves.”