The Seventh Avenger by ElrondsScribe

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Chapter 14: Lady Merilin

May 5, 2012

Somewhere on the coast of the Carolinas, in a long, low house by the sea, Ingalaurë Arafinwë and his people watched on their tablet and desktop screens in amazement as smartphone clips and live news footage spilled over the internet. The sign of the House of the Golden Flower had not been seen for many thousands of years; now, as its yellow rays glittered in the light of day, some viewers thought its glory was increased.

Among the viewers was a tall, bone-thin Elf with a pale face, who watched the figure of the tallest Avenger with amazement and pride. "At last, my love," she murmured.

May 7

On the live segment of Good Morning America, Glorfindel flashed his wedding ring, and in the house-by-the-sea, the pale-faced Elf ducked her head to hide her smile from her housemates.

May 22

Arafinwë held out the secure phone. "He wishes to speak with you," he said significantly.

The pale Elf slowly took the phone, and put it to her ear. "Glorfindel?" she nearly whispered.

Something between a sob and a gasp came from the other end of the line. "Merilin?" quavered the voice of her long-absent husband, and at the sound of his voice she burst into tears.

"It feels like it's been so long," wept Merilin, for of course it was she.

Glorfindel laughed through his tears. "Barely a century, love," he snuffled, but she knew he'd felt the length as she did.

"Then why did you not come to me?" she asked.

"Why did you cut yourself off from me?" Glorfindel sniffed. "The distance would not have been so hard, if you had left us our bond."

Merilin sighed from the depths of her soul. "I became ill with sadness after our last parting," she admitted. "And I didn't want you to know."

"Ai, Merilin!" Glorfindel wept again in earnest. "I should have been there!"

Merilin had managed to recover herself a little. "My illness was not your doing, Glorfindel," she told him firmly.

"But you could have died!"

She did not tell him that she had indeed been dying. "Yet I live," she said instead. "To see you become a hero among Men once more, apparently."

Glorfindel gave another breathy laugh. "I - may have blown our collective cover, I think," he said. "But they don't seem to be hunting us all into extinction yet."

"Then you are no longer in hiding?" she asked with growing hope.

"Not anymore," said Glorfindel. "None of us need to hide anymore."

May 25

Merilin packed the last of her essential belongings into a big duffel bag and set it on her bed. She was dressed in the kind of fashionable American garb she'd never worn before: a flimsy cotton blouse, denim leggings, and designer sandals, all of which were brand new.

As she pushed a very modern tablet case into a side pocket, a knock sounded on the open door. Merilin looked up to see her hostess, silver-haired Eärwen of the Teleri. "May I do anything for you, my dear?" she asked.

Merilin smiled gratefully. "Thank you, milady, but I have everything packed already," she said.

"Are you certain?" asked Eärwen, and Merilin knew she was asking about more than the packing of her bag.

But the warmth of Glorfindel's promise, and her own, had begun to bring life back to her withered body. I will come to you, he had told her; but she had requested, Instead let me come to you.

"You and Lord Arafinwë have been very kind to me," she said. "And I've given you ample reason to worry, I know. But I'll be well, I think."

Eärwen smiled. "The both of you always have fared better together," she said. "Go to him, then, and be healed."

May 26

Whenever he had been apart from her for any length of time, Glorfindel reflected, he was always amazed anew at her beauty, and just how much he had missed her. Now the feeling was greater than usual, for this time he had not had even had the comfort of sanwe-latya (thought-speech) during his absence. The very sight of her as she stepped from one of the many trains passing through the station sent a knife of joy through his soul.

Eärwen was with her, hovering protectively as if Merilin were her own child (oddly enough, Glorfindel had never seen any of Eärwen's own children allow themselves to be thus hovered over), and it was she who saw Glorfindel first, and pointed him out to Merilin.

She looked up, and Glorfindel caught his breath as their eyes met. He was barely aware of what he did next; he knew only that he was moving toward his wife and that she was moving toward him; and then they were in one another's arms and his sight was blurred with tears and he was panting, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry -"

But she silenced him with a gentle kiss, and she opened her fëa to him for the first time in ninety-eight years. And just as Merilin was peace and rest to Glorfindel, so he was joy and vitality to her, and each was strengthened in comforting the other.

"I'll assume I'm no longer needed, then?" asked the voice of Eärwen from somewhere in the outside world.

Merilin pulled head just far enough away from Glorfindel's shoulder to look at Eärwen over it. "I think we can take it from here," she said blissfully.

Eärwen smiled and walked away in the direction of another train, and Glorfindel reluctantly let go of Merilin, leaving a kiss on her cheek as they pulled apart.

"Your bag?" he asked.

"I can carry it," she assured him. "It's not heavy."

He looped an arm around her waist and they began to walk. "How was the journey?" he asked.

"It was noisy, smelly, and crowded," she said honestly. "And there was altogether too much metal and too many tools for spying."

He laughed (how she had missed that laugh!). "I've got you your very own spying tool," he told her. "What think you of that, love?"

"That I'll shamelessly use it to spy on you," she returned playfully. "Where are you taking me?"

"To Tony Stark's Tower," said Glorfindel. "Our home for the moment. It's all automation and devices, and it's surrounded by stone and asphalt with not a living thing in sight, but it's no bad place for all that."

"I'm not choosy," she reminded him. "As long as you are there, and as long as there are instruments, I'll be more than happy."

Glorfindel looked slightly troubled. "I'm afraid I might not be there all the time," he admitted.

"Why?" Merilin tensed a little.

"I have been offered an ongoing position as a consultant as well as an Avenger," said Glorfindel, watching her carefully.

"What would that mean?" asked Merilin just as cautiously.

"That I would be 'on call,' to be called if the world was ending again," said Glorfindel. "And that, in between, I would advise SHIELD - the agency behind the Avengers - on matters of 'interspecies relations.' My new employer believes that my publicity can be an advantage both to Mortals and to our people."

Merilin relaxed. "Then you would not always be gone."

"No," agreed Glorfindel with relief. "Only sometimes."

By this time they had passed outside and were approaching a silver SUV. A man in a business suit was standing by it, looking completely unfazed by the fact that he was driving two creatures who hadn't existed a month ago, and he immediately moved to take Merilin's duffel bag. He swung the bag into the trunk while Merilin and Glorfindel climbed into the back seat. Then the man came round to the driver's seat, and began to maneuver his way out of the maze that was Grand Central Station.

"Have you eaten today, Merilin?" asked Glorfindel, and Merilin knew he was hoping she would say no.

And as it happened: "No, not beyond some fruit this morning," she said truthfully.

Glorfindel's smile was one of pure glee. "Harry," he asked of the driver. "Is there a pizzeria along our route that you'd recommend?"

"Oh, about three," said the man cheerfully.

"Then would you mind stopping at the nearest?" said Glorfindel. "We'd like some lunch."

"Well, do you like it?" asked Glorfindel eagerly.

Merilin's mouth was full, as she had just taken a bite of something called pizza. It tasted of things that might have resembled oil, flour, cheese, and (probably) tomato, with slices of some red chemical creation on top that Glorfindel had called "pep-per-o-ni." She chewed at the greasy lump inside her mouth as best she could and gulped hard. They call this food?!

"Will it choke me to death?" she asked.

Glorfindel laughed (which made the objectionable pizza almost worth it). "That's why you also have soda!"

"So-da?" she repeated, eyeing the paper cup by her plate with disfavour, as the smell of the stuff from inside it was like another product of a Mortal laboratory. Nevertheless, she picked up the cup, fastened her lips around the "straw" as she'd just seen her husband do, and sucked bravely. The stuff tasted just as artificial and sickly-sweet as it had smelled, and it bubbled and crackled and made her splutter. After it had "burned" its way down her throat, she did not feel any less thirsty. "Mmph!" she complained, breathing in deeply to clear her nose.

"By the way, it bubbles," remarked Glorfindel belatedly.

"Thank you for the warning," she said reproachfully, and she took another bite of the pizza. It wasn't so bad, actually, once she chose to ignore the obviously artificial or altered quality of the ingredients. But she really disliked the red pep-per-o-ni.

"Harry?" she cautiously asked their driver, who had just come to join them with his own order of pizza topped with pieces of sausage and mushrooms. "Might I try a slice of that pizza?"

Harry grinned at her. "That pepperoni not workin' for ya, Ma'am?" he asked. He separated a slice from his pizza and pushed it onto her plate. She took a bite of it.

"This is better," she decided.

"More pepperoni for me, then?" asked Glorfindel, who had just finished half of theirs. Harry seemed very happy to offer her more sausage and mushroom pizza, but Merilin felt she'd had enough. The two men finished eating in short order and they left the pizzeria, Merilin feeling like she'd just ingested a half-poisonous pile of factory-produced gunk (because, of course, that was exactly what she had done).

They all climbed back into the SUV and Harry drove them for another hour or so; Merilin eyed the enormously wide and busy streets with slight terror. She watched as other vehicles swerved and skidded and nearly crashed into one another (and into them). She saw crowds of Mortals going up and down the sidewalks and even occasionally marching across the streets (once this happened right in front of the SUV, and Harry swore and blared the horn). She saw piles of waste - not even the kind of dung she'd been expecting in a Mortal city, but plastic go-boxes and grocery bags and metal beer cans - lining the streets and being pecked by dirty-looking pigeons.

"Such are Mortal cities now, darling," murmured Glorfindel in her ear. "I'm sorry, I forgot how much has changed in the last hundred years."

"It seems I've missed a great deal," murmured Merilin back. "And I'm not entirely sorry for that."

It was almost a relief when the SUV entered the enormous parking garage of the ridiculous Stark Tower, or Avengers Tower, as it was evidently now called. Harry brought out Merilin's Duffel bag and Glorfindel took it, thanking the man for his trouble and dismissing him.

"This way," he said, and led her to an elevator. "Don't be startled if you hear a voice speak to you," he added.

"A voice?" asked Merilin as they stepped inside.

"Stark has created an artificial intelligence to 'run' the Tower for him," Glorfindel explained.

"An artificial intelligence?" Merilin felt uneasy.

"Good afternoon, madam," said a voice from the walls and ceiling of the elevator, making her start. "I am JARVIS. Welcome home, Glorfindel."

"Thank you, JARVIS," said Glorfindel as if he were used to speaking to the disembodied voice of a man-made series of prompts and commands (though Merilin could tell he was still only a little less unsettled by it than she was). "You know which floor we want, I hope?"

"Your own, of course, sir," said JARVIS. "I have no records of your name or face, madam, what may I call you?"

"Merilin," said that lady, looking round for obviously visible cameras, of which there were none. Apparently there were to be no secrets in this Tower!

Once the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened, Glorfindel led the way straight to the door which opened onto their bedroom. The gentle light green and cream colors relaxed Merilin, and Glorfindel was all too happy to point out the size of the two closets and of the bed. He set down the bag and pointed out the doors to the bathroom and the studio. Curious, she went into the studio and there found, to her joy, a representative of each instrument "family," apparently for her unrestricted use.

"And Tony Stark gave all this to you?" she asked rather wonderingly of Glorfindel, going back into the bedroom where he was emptying the meagre contents of her bag.

"In name, yes," said Glorfindel. "But the lady of this house chose everything for you."

"And who might that be?" asked Merilin.

Glorfindel opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment the voice spoke again from nowhere and everywhere. "As it happens, Miss Potts is requesting a meeting with you, Lady Merilin."

"Miss Potts?" Merilin arched an eyebrow.

"Please call me Pepper, and it's very nice to meet you," said the redheaded woman politely, rising from behind her desk. Glorfindel had introduced the two of them and was now standing unobtrusively by the window. Virginia Potts, or Pepper, seemed to be the CEO of Stark Industries, and was apparently running it far more efficiently than Tony Stark (and his late, great, traitorous partner Obadiah Stane) ever had.

Perceiving no guile or malice about the woman, Merilin smiled genuinely. "Then call me Merilin, Pepper," she said. "How may I be of service to you?"

Pepper smiled a little shyly. "Well, I was wondering if you might consider something of both a publicity move and a business venture," she said. "All of the major garment makers, as well as the big fashion designers, are very eager to start making clothing lines made specifically for Elves, now that we've actually started to acknowledge you," wryly. "So I was wondering if you were willing to be the first public Elf model."

Merilin considered this for a moment, and then she began to smile. "I think I can give you better than that," she said.

May 31

"Thank you so much for helping me do this," said a beaming Pepper to Merilin.

"Not at all," said Merilin, her eyes on the dozens of Elves, male and female both, who were allowing themselves to be poked and prodded by Mortals with pins and tape measures. "This should be a good thing. I think."

.All the famous fashion designers themselves were there at Stark Tower, in person, and seemed to be in their own version of heaven (when they weren't being appalled by what their future models were currently wearing). Most of the Elves who were to be models were young or relatively so (under a thousand), and had for the most part grown up around Mortals or not too far removed from them. This meant, unfortunately, that they were mostly Noldor and Sindar (with some "mixed"); but there were very few Vanyar and Teleri, and there were no Nandor, Falathrim, Laiquendi/Green-Elves, Silvans, or Avari tribes there at all.

Merilin saw sketches and concepts of many different sorts of clothing - there were obviously modern styles, varied enough in their way, adapted to fit the needs of Elf body shapes. But there were also remakes and updates on more traditional garb such as robes and gowns and tunics. The designs ranged from plain everyday wear to professional pieces to elegant evening stunners to fantastic creations that would probably be worn only rarely.

Journalists were there in abundance too, being carefully monitored by Stark Tower security, and their accompanying photographers and videographers were happily recording the goings-on.

But perhaps the best part of the evening was the constant buzz. For the first time in thousands of years, Mortals were openly acknowledging Elves as such in conversation. Elves and Men were talking - sometimes amiably, sometimes excitedly, sometimes heatedly with bejeweled hands waving in the air. There were bidding wars on future models left and right, while the Elves in question laughed at them and said, "Don't you know there are more of us?"

Glorfindel returned from a SHIELD summons at about the middle of the event, and was delighted to find Merilin at the center of everything. She smiled at him and kissed his cheek. "I told you I'd be all right somehow," she said.

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