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Summary:

You bring Middle-earth's first mobile library to Dale, near former Mirkwood. Soon an anonymous, touch-starved elf begins to frequent your service, and you wonder what happened to make him so lonely. Accidentally imprisoned in King Thranduil's dungeons, you discover the true identity of your borrower.

Translations for those unfamiliar with Tolkien: Ellon = male elf, elleth = female elf.

For Raider-k.

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The Librarian and the Elvenking – Part 1(5): The Anonymous Borrower

When your carriage rolled into Dale for the first time, you were struck with how quaint the town was. Nestled in a bend of the river, it had narrow, winding streets and stone houses with slate roofs. Columns of smoke rose from its many chimneys, and a bustle of humans crowded the streets.

Strider's hoofs clopped merrily on the stone pavement and the wagon wheels squeaked. After many days on the road, you looked forward to a pleasant supper and a warm bed for the night.

Unsurprisingly, everyone gawked at you when you passed them by. It was always like this when you arrived at a new place; you were an elf with a mobile library in a city of men, of course you would draw attention. But you knew they would get used to you after a few days and return to business as usual, with your service as a – hopefully – pleasant addition in their lives.

You had started your library service roughly thirty years ago, after the War of the Ring, and by now you had been in many human cities. You never stayed for long; as soon as you found someone there willing to copy the books and create a more permanent establishment you would move to a new place. As a result, there were now libraries in several towns, both in Breeland, Rohan and the new Brownland settlements – and today the time had come to Dale. You had only left Gondor alone, for there the new king had built libraries of his own.

It was a lonely life; that was the only downside of being a mobile librarian, but the joy you brought to remote settlements made it worthwhile. And in all honesty, you had never had many friends back home in Imladris anyway.

In the morning you set up your stall in the town square, exposing some of your more popular volumes in stands in front of the carriage, and beside them a sign explaining how it worked. Soon a curious crowd gathered around you, looking at titles, skimming pages and – a few – signing up to become borrowers.

From experience, you knew the first few days would be slow, with people mostly looking, but when some of the more daring had tried your library it would spread like ripples in the water. By the end of the month you would probably have gained a large number of regular customers.

You were just taking a quick lunch in your carriage when three elves walked by. They were the first of your race you had seen in Dale, which was a largely human town with the occasional dwarf resident. Judging by their clothes, these were Wood-elves; garbed in the greens and browns of the forest as was their habit.

The elves regarded your mobile library with curiosity, mumbling among themselves. Then the taller of them, a silver blonde ellon, sidled up to one of your stands and picked up a book.

You put your meal aside and stepped out, whereupon he jumped in surprise and nearly dropped the volume.

"Oh, I see you have discovered 'The Principles of Lust,'" you said. "It's my only Haradrim work; very popular with the married couples. Shall I sign you up on my borrower list?"

The ellon's pale cheeks had become bright red, and he quickly put the book back. "I don't think my wife likes that sort of thing."

"Such a shame. Hm. Maybe she would enjoy a book of fables? The Gondorian ladies adore them. This was written by Lady Finduilas, who was the wife of the former steward in Minas Tirith." You picked up a colorful booklet.

"What are fables?" The ellon seemed almost reluctantly interested.

"Short stories with talking animals as the main characters, where the reader learns valuable lessons of life – such as not coveting what others have, or judging a book by its cover." You chuckled. "Pun not intended."

His lips quirked up at first, but he smothered it before his features had progressed into an actual smile. "It seems risky; lending books like that. What do you do if someone just keeps them? Humans are not very trustworthy."

"Well, as you can read on this sign here, borrowers leave their name, address and a security deposit, which will be repaid once they return the volume. The deposit can be money or something of equal value. Jewellery is fine too." You nodded at his fingers, where several elaborate rings gleamed.

The elf hid his hands behind his back. "I see."

"I have lost a few books, but mostly by accident. One girl dropped a book in the bathtub, and I get the occasional ripped page – but I have several copies of each volume, and I brought material for repairing them if needed."

"All this sounds like a lot of trouble. What's in it for you?" The elf frowned. He had the most formidable eyebrows you had ever seen. Very expressive.

"Well, mostly I just wanted to give the humans some hope and joy after the war, and what better way is there than bringing them stories? As elves, we have time to hear and learn all the tales of old, but a human who lives perhaps eighty years at most is not so fortunate."

"How altruistic."

"Isn't it?" You gave him a dazzling smile, pretending he had meant it as a compliment. "So, shall I sign you up? And perhaps your friends there as well?" You indicated his silent companions who had stayed some yards away. They reminded you of guards; alert and watchful, but they carried no visible weapons.

"Just I."

The ellon produced a silver dollar as a deposit, and writing in an elegant, yet masculine Tengwar he swiftly filled in the form you gave him.

When you received it, you could not hold back a chuckle. "Your name is Ú-eneth?"

"I am known by that name in this town." He frowned slightly again.

"Right. Well, Master No Name, welcome as a borrower. I wish you much enjoyment!" You took his hand and shook it.

Ú-eneth's reaction to your simple gesture surprised you; he flinched visibly and stared at your hand like he had never seen one before.

"Sorry! I must have spent too much time with the humans." Smiling apologetically, you moved your hand to your chest and bowed in an elvish greeting instead.

"No need," he mumbled, but still looked bewildered.

You gave him a cloth bag. "Here is that fable book for your wife. Do you want something for yourself as well? You look like a warrior with those wide shoulders; perhaps I can tempt you with 'The War of the Last Alliance - a Recount,' by Meneldil of Gondor?"

His cheeks paled. "No thank you," he choked.

"My goodness. You fought in it, didn't you?" You gave him a sympathetic look and pressed his shoulder comfortingly. "Sorry if I brought up painful memories."

Again your touch seemed to unnerve Ú-eneth. "I have to go." He left rather hurriedly with his companions in tow.

You looked long after the disappearing trio. When walking, it became even more obvious that they were trained warriors; they moved with that certain confidence and grace obtained by long hours of sparring. And of course their exceptionally fit bodies were a giveaway.

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About a month later Ú-eneth came to return your book. Like before, his company remained at a distance.

"Welcome back!" you greeted him heartily, shaking his hand without thinking. Now, however, he seemed to expect it and actually shook back.

You noticed pale patches on his fingers where he had worn rings the last time. Why had he taken them off? Was he hiding something?

"It was an interesting read," he said.

"Glad you found it so. I put aside some other books with you in mind." You took a large, leather bound tome and two smaller hardbacks from a shelf. "Do you like action-adventure stories? This is Rohirric; 'Tales of Heroes and Dragonesse,' by Fram Frumgarsson. Human youngsters enjoy it a lot."

"I am not particularly fond of dragon stories. And I am no youngster."

"Didn't say you were." You gave him a disarming smile. If he had fought in the War of the Last Alliance he must be well over three millennia old.

Ú-eneth took one of the smaller volumes and read the title: "'The Children of Húrin – a History.' That Húrin? From the First Age?"

"Aye. It's based on the man's tragic life, and carefully recorded by Erestor of Imladris..."

"Huh. That old bore."

"... who is my uncle." You smirked at the look on his face.

"I'll take it," he said hurriedly.

"He also put down the tale of Beren and Lúthien, if that could interest you?"

"Why not."

So, he liked romantic tragedies. You stored the information for future use.

Packing his books, you asked conversationally: "What brings three elves to Dale, then? I was told none of our race live here."

"Business. I purchase wine for... Uh, the king."

"Elvenking Thranduil? I've heard of him." You gave him the book bag. "Quite a scary fellow, is he not? At least the Daleans think so."

"To mortals all elves are frightening," he huffed dismissively.

"I'm not." You shrugged.

"But you are an unusual elf."

"Am I? Maybe." Perhaps you were a bit different, especially since you spent so much time around humans. But you had no time to ponder it, for your most avid readers had come; Liv and Ylva, two teenage human sisters. They stopped at a respectful distance to Ú-eneth, gawking at him with large eyes.

You glanced at the object of their admiration and understood them. He was handsome even for an elf; to human eyes he must be absolutely stunning. Tall, muscular and elegant, even in his simple, unadorned tunic.

"I have to attend to the girls now, but it was good seeing you again." You pressed Ú-eneth's arm in a friendly manner, telling yourself it was a nice gesture and not at all because you liked how strong it felt. "Welcome back at any time."

His eyes darted to your hand on his arm, and then met yours. "Aye. I will be back."

Something in his expression puzzled you. This time he didn't flinch from your touch, but he seemed extremely conscious about it. Almost as if he had never been touched before, which was odd for a married ellon – he must have touched his wife at least once on the wedding night – and very intimately too, if the Haradrim book was correct about such matters.

Maybe they didn't live together? That could explain why he seemed so lonely. You felt sorry for him; it must be horrible to have nobody to hug.

Well, actually, you knew it was horrible. So much so, that you had to resort to hugging Strider, your horse, and some of your customers.

When Ú-eneth had left, Liv and Ylva came closer, and you greeted them with a warm hug each.

"You know him?" asked Ylva in an awed voice after you had released her.

"A little." You smiled at the besotted look on her face. "Ú-eneth is one of my borrowers."

"He's amazing," said Liv dreamily. "Ú-eneth... It's beautiful. I love his name too."

"It can't be his real one," said Ylva. "It means 'no name' in Sindarin, right?"

"Dunno. I hate the Sindarin lessons." Liv giggled. "But if he's not telling his real name, then that's even more romantic! It's like in 'The Children of Húrin' when Túrin comes to Nargothrond and Finduilas calls him Thurin because he's so secretive."

"Ah, yes." Ylva sighed lustfully. "The way he named himself 'The Wronged.' So tragic. I love him!"

"I love both Beren, Túrin and Glorfindel. And now Ú-eneth too."

"That reminds me..." You held up a shining new book. "I just finished making a third copy of Glorfindel's autobiography, so you can borrow it now."

"Thank you! Thankyou thankyou thankyou." Liv pressed the book to her bosom and made a piruet. Then she stopped dead. "What if Ú-eneth is Glorfindel in disguise?"

Ylva gasped. "He could be!"

You chuckled. "Sorry to burst your bubble. I know Glorfindel, and Ú-eneth is not he."

"I'm so jealous of you. You have met Glorfindel, and Elrond, and even Elessar of Gondor!" Ylva sighed.

"If you do all your lessons, then maybe you can study at the Imladris University in the future and meet some of them yourself," you said encouragingly. "But then you must do your Sindarin homework."

"We will! We'll study real hard." The girls beamed at you.

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A/N:

I seem to be unable to write anything brief these days! This time I had to divide my 'short story' into five parts. I will post the next part soon.

I wrote this for my fanfiction friend Raider-k, whom I have much in common with. Apart from writing stories about Tolkien elves, we are the same age, have the same faith, got married the same year and month, are both mothers and work as teachers. :)

Happy upcoming anniversary, K! ♡