Rise Again From Ashes by Independence1776

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Chapter 10

I am sorry for not updating last week and not responding to reviewers. The past couple of weeks were busier than I had anticipated.

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After breakfast and an hour learning the commands Tirn knew, I stood outside Elrond's study and nervously knocked on the door. I looked down at the large dog sitting calmly at my side on the end of a leather leash. Hopefully Elrond would agree that Tirn would be acceptable. When he opened the door, he smiled and then raised both his eyebrows at the sight of the dog.

“Come in, Maglor.” To the dog, he said, “You had better behave.”

I followed him in and the dog calmly lay down at my feet. “I think he's the solution.”

Elrond rubbed his chin. “I think you may be right. If he is constantly with you, you will be less of a target. And he is no weapon, though he is fully capable of protecting you. If it does not work out, though, what are you going to do with--?”

“Tirn. Keep him, of course. It'll be nice to have a companion who doesn't know or care about my past.”

Elrond nodded. “Go see the kennel master about his needs. I do not anticipate a problem with you keeping him. But if he does follow you around, he has to be leashed whenever he is inside.”

“Understandable. And thank you,” I added.

After I left his office, I walked to the hill where I usually watched the sword practise because there was no lesson I needed to teach today. I sat on the grass and Tirn lay next to me, ears pricked at the sounds coming from the arena in front of us. I watched Glorfindel’s match until it was over, and then lay back and gazed at the clouds scuttling across the sky, listening to the birds and insects, as well as feeling the salt-laden breeze blowing lightly across the land, causing grasses and trees to whisper and creak.

Shortly before noon, Glorfindel nudged my left foot with a boot. I opened my eyes, distracted from the music I was mentally composing, and smiled at him.

“What’s with the dog?”

I sat up and glanced over at the sleeping Tirn, who had shifted so his back was pressed against my side. When he felt me move, he immediately rolled over and whuffed at Glorfindel. I placed a hand on his back, and he relaxed. “This is Tirn, who we're hoping can be a guard dog.”

Glorfindel grinned. “He would do better to keep more aware when he's asleep.”

I laughed and took his hand so he could help me up. “I've only had him for a few hours, but I think he'll learn. He's already well-trained.”

A bell pealed, muffled against the wind. “You able to handle lunch in the main hall?”

I bit my lip, but agreed. There was absolutely no reason for me to avoid it, especially since I was nearby. I followed Glorfindel down the hill, keeping Tirn leashed and at my side. We joined the crowd of people streaming into the building and the dining hall. Due to the dog's presence, I stayed at the outside of the crowd, keeping him between the wall and me, ignoring the occassional odd look though no one commented about his presence. Glorfindel stayed at my side, and we sat down at one of the tables near the door. No one appeared to mind, and as I studied the room and the people in it, realized that unless there was a formal feast, people were free to sit where they wanted, save at the high table. I made Tirn lay under the table, out of the way. He placed his head on my left foot and seemed to go back to sleep.

The people seated around Glorfindel and me didn't entirely ignore us, though Glorfindel's wife Nárë pretended to ignore him and focused much of her attention on me.

“When do you intend on performing?” she asked after serving herself a bowl of beef soup.

I stared at my plate. “I wasn't planning on it.”

“You cannot live here and not sing. Think of it-- Lindir would be so disappointed.”

Glorfindel said, “So would Elrond and those who have not had the oppurtunity to hear you. But if you are not ready, you are not ready,” he said, shooting a warning look at his wife.

She said primly, “Well, it had better be before the End, that is all I can say.”

I laughed and nearly dropped the serving spoon filled with corn. “It will be -- I can promise that much.”

“Is Aman much like you remember?” Nárë asked.

“It’s changed, in some respects more than others. There's far more people, for one. No one lived here during the Years of the Trees. And the light of the sun changes the colors of things subtly. It's less peaceful, though that may be a factor of people's reactions to me. Or it could simply be part of the aftereffects of the Darkening. I don't know.”

I ignored the curious expressions the other Elves seated nearby gave me, preferring to concentrate on the couple. Finally, a silver-haired Noldo broke in. “Why do you have a dog? Did he decide to adopt you?”

I replied, “He's my guard. Given that people have already threatened me, I refuse to be lax about my safety.”

“Who? And, yes, I can understand the sentiment, but if the Valar pardoned you…”

I shrugged and turned back to my food. “A Sinda who's a student at Elrond's school. That's all I know.”

The man rolled his eyes, and Nárë studied me with a concerned expression on her face. Tirn shifted below me, digging his chin into my toes. I grunted and moved my foot. From the huff that came from beneath the table, I knew he didn't appreciate it.

Glorfindel snickered. “What did you do to him?”

I grumbled, “Stopped letting him use my foot as a pillow.”

The silver-haired Noldo laughed. “My dog grumbles, too, when I annoy her somehow, but she is vocal in general.”

That, thankfully, turned the conversation to less serious matters. After lunch, I decided to visit the kennels to seek out expert advice-- it had been far too long since I’d owned dogs. So I spent a couple hours following the master as she made her rounds, who explained the specifics of local dog care-- including how dogs of Tirn’s breed acted-- as she went.

* * * * *

Three days later, after a quiet dinner at home, I walked to the beach with Tirn. I tossed several pieces of driftwood for him to retrieve before he decided that he fancied a swim. I groaned, not wanting to smell a wet dog for the rest of the night, but it was hopeless. I sat down on the sand behind the tide line and watched him mess around, occasionally bringing me sticks to throw.

I heard sand squeaking under someone's bare feet and turned to face whoever it was. I was unsurprised to find the Sinda, this time wearing a forest green tunic, standing just a few feet from me, his two friends on either side. I ignored them after memorizing their features, hoping they'd take the hint, but the Sinda moved to stand before me, casting his shadow over my face.

“What do you want?”

“You to leave.”

“That will not happen.”

He took a step towards me, one hand curling into a fist. Making a fast decision, I whistled sharply. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tirn come charging out of the surf. His pounding paws caught the Sinda's attention and he shot the dog an incredulous glance. I scrambled to my feet and backed away, putting several yards between us. Tirn skidded to a halt directly in front of me, facing the Sinda, head lowered and hackles raised, growling softly.

The Sinda paled and nodded towards his friends, who had not moved. They moved away slowly, never taking their eyes from the large black and tan dog. Only when they judged they were a safe distance away did they turn and start running. I knelt next to Tirn, who relaxed when I laid a hand on his left shoulder. “Good boy. That's a good dog.”

He wagged his tail, spraying my back with water and sand. When I took my hand off his shoulder, he spun around, grabbed a small piece of driftwood, and went into a play bow just beyond my reach. I laughed and lunged for the stick, Elven reflexes meaning I grabbed the end of it. After a swift game of tug-of-war, I tossed the stick into the surf for him to retrieve.

We only headed inside when the sun had set, though the sky was still a brilliant blue. Rather than deal with a wet and sandy dog, I made him stay outside while I filled a watering can and dumped it over him to get the worst of the sand off. It helped, as did my brushing. After I had dried him off as best as I could, we went inside. After he drank his fill, he collapsed at the foot of the couch, on top of my bare feet. I rolled my eyes, but didn't make him move. I wanted the contact. So I turned back to my book-- the last of the history texts I had borrowed from the library-- hoping to finish it before bed.