By Dawn's Early Light by Grundy

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A Slight Miscalculation

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With a sigh, Elrond opened the door to his study and found two children – one mortal, one elf – waiting for him with hangdog expressions. He had hoped to have support from their mothers in this matter, but Gilraen was puzzled by the nature of the offense and Celebrían (after laughing herself silly at her cousin’s predicament) was still trying to settle the ruffled ellon who had been on the unfortunate end of their mischief.

When his wife and daughters returned to Arda with his daughter’s sworn sisters and brother, all had brought with them keepsakes of California. The children’s choices reflected their personalities and interests. Anariel had brought primarily weapons, but also an oddly cheerful stuffed pig. Tindomiel had a coat gifted from a friend and a few favorite books. Willow had brought an odd device that she explained held the knowledge of more books than could possibly fit into her pack- this one had puzzled Erestor and Elrond both, but they had as yet had no chance to examine the curious ‘computer’. Xander had a few small sheaves of paper he called comics and a box with a ring intended for Anya.

Anya had brought precious stones and gems. Elrond was aware that some viewed her choice as motivated by greed, but he rather suspected that she had been trying to ensure, in her own way, that she would be able to adequately care for those dear to her – if they had misjudged their location and had to travel to reach Imladris, those stones would have been valuable resources to trade for shelter, food, or transportation.

Tara’s choice was the most interesting. While the others had brought things that were immediately tangible – and other than Anya’s choice, largely fleeting, as most things made by men were – her choice required more thought and patience, but would ultimately survive long after she herself accepted the Gift of Men, a lasting legacy that meant elves beyond Elrond’s family would remember her until the end of time. For she had seeds and seedlings for a myriad of plants that she had discovered through questioning Celebrían did not exist in Middle Earth.

In the first few days in Imladris, she had long and involved talks with those elves who were most skilled in Yavanna’s arts, to determine what could be planted, where, and when. She had been disappointed to discover that several of the warm climate plants were unsuited to Imladris or even Lothlorien – several packets of seeds and a dozen carefully wrapped seedlings had been urgently dispatched to the Havens along with instructions for their care and cultivation, translated into Quenya by the best scribe in Imladris. They would be taken to Valinor, where they might be coaxed into thriving as they would not even in the glasshouses of Imladris.

Tara had begged Elrond to say nothing of those varieties to his daughters- if the elves of the Undying Lands were able to successfully grow and harvest them, a wonderful surprise would await Anariel and Tindomiel when they sailed. If they were not successful, it was better not to get the girls’ hopes up.

Tara’s garden had flourished since she and the other two mortal women had returned from Lothlorien. It had been tended in their absence by the Imladrim, of course, but that was not quite the same as the care Tara and Willow lavished on it, with occasional help from both Anya and Celebrían. It had become a favored place for the children to gather, as they kept eager eyes on the progress of the various fruits and vegetables.

Imladris had taken to some of its bounty rather quickly – blueberries and tomatoes were particular favorites, along with beans and the sweet potato. The odd grain which was called corn in the California tongue, but which the elves of Imladris had christened ‘goldenhair’ had taken somewhat longer to catch on. Willow was currently trying to convince the cooks that the fruit of the delicate flowers growing in the glasshouse had a wonderful flavor, no matter how shriveled it looked, as did the bright yellow flesh of a gnarled brown root.

Tara had been trying not to overwhelm Imladris with too much at once, but with the bounty of her garden this season, those elves who were so inclined could try something new nearly every day. Erestor had only the other day been beguiled into trying pineapple, which despite having a similar name to the apple, had no relation to it whatsoever.

But it seemed that some of the California plants that Tara grew in her garden were painful to eat, and his youngest child, knowing that no elf would suspect such a thing, had delighted in tricking Estel into trying a bit of a variety of pepper called a habanero. Estel had told no one of his unfortunate experience after a laughing Tindomiel had assured him the proper course of action was for him to play the same trick on another unwary person. Glorfindel, Estel’s chosen target, had described the experience as being like he imagined eating a balrog would be.

While trying to soothe his mouth – well after ingesting enough water that Elrond had to order him to stop before he made himself ill – the irate hero of Gondolin had demanded of his younger cousin why anyone would want to grow such horrible fruit. Celebrían had replied with some asperity that quite a few cultures of that other world had enjoyed spicy foods, and anyway, shouldn’t he have realized something was amiss when he saw Estel holding the pepper so carefully by its stem? She’d then had him eat a spoonful of honey, which she said should ease the burning somewhat, before handing him bread.

Elrond himself failed to see how the way Estel held the fruit should have been a warning, but he had ordered Erestor to bring the young offender to his study to await justice. It seemed Tindomiel had accompanied him of her own volition – she was unwilling to see him punished for what had been ultimately her idea.

He regarded the pair for a long moment in silence. Estel looked repentant, which was no surprise, but Tindomiel’s expression put him in mind of his long dead twin Elros when he was due for a scolding for something he didn’t feel the least bit sorry for.

“What do you have to say for yourselves?” he finally asked.

“That Glorfindel’s a big baby,” Tindomiel said crossly. “One bite of a hot pepper wasn’t going to kill him.”

“Your mother tells me that eating a whole pepper in one bite is not a pleasant experience,” Elrond replied calmly.

He was pleased to see she did look guilty at that – the joke was plainly intended to be played on someone slightly more cautious.

“He ate the whole thing?” Tindomiel spluttered, looking incredulously at her partner in crime, and showing for the first time a glimmer of remorse.

“We’re sorry,” Estel said contritely, his expression undergoing a complex series of maneuvers to indicate to Tindomiel that yes, Glorfindel had eaten the whole thing, that she was getting them in deeper, and to subtly encourage her to follow his lead.

“I should hope you are,” Elrond said, trying to remain severe despite an unholy urge to laugh. “To help prevent any further incidents, you will be helping Tara put warning signs on all the hot peppers.”

He paused, watching as Tindomiel visibly calculated that they were getting off remarkably lightly before nodding with an appropriately rueful expression.

“You will also be assisting Glorfindel all day tomorrow in whatever task he chooses to set you.”

He relished the horrified looks that appeared on both faces. Elrond couldn’t wait to see what the hero of Gondolin would come up with to settle this particular score.