A Trip to Rivendell (resubmitted)

by Arabella Thorne

The magic worked, and I was somewhere outside Rivendell, then I meet up with a wounded stranger, and his friend and some elves and

Author's note: a little indulgence of mine and easily written set in the lovely confines of Tolkien world and of course, his estate owns all the good bits.
I have had the worse trouble uploading this..so I hope you'll give this a try (damn it, Jim I'm a writer, not a computer expert!). I am praying this is readable! Iam not much on chapters, so I am uploading this in chunks. I hope the tale is amusing enough to get through. Please do not hesitate to comment!


My Trip To Rivendell or There and Hopefully not Back from There!



With a thump, I hit the forest floor hard, the damp smell of rich soil rising around me.
It was twilight and I could see off to my left the pale glimmer of a road or trail. The pine forest around me stood quiet and full of mystery. I stared at the ground under my hands where little yellow flowers sprouted close to the soil and poked out between pinecones, dried leaves and stones. The air smelled of earth and pine. High above, the wind soughed through the trees.
Content to sit a moment, I watched a nuthatch spiral its way down a pine in front of me. I heard other birds chattering in the dark boughs as they settled for the evening. This was Middle Earth! A land where magic happened daily! Where elves, hobbits, dwarves and wizards lived. (As well as the Nazgul, orcs and ol' Sauron too.)
I stood slowly, brushing the debris off my jeans.
It worked! Our fumbling attempts at magic and deciphering old notes had worked! Surely these woods were near Rivendell where we had directed our thoughts and my landing. I hugged myself. I couldn't wait to tell Valerie our wishes and incantations had worked, though I had hoped to be better prepared than I was at the moment.
Moving cautiously to the road, I looked up and down its length in the light swiftly going to the blue of late twilight. Which way to go? I smiled to myself, I could easily get very lost here.
With a shrug, I struck out to my right because I thought I could discern the tips of what I hoped were the Misty Mountains and home to Rivendell. Walking along, my eyes devoured every little twig and blade of grass. Amazing! Middle Earth! It existed!
The jingling of horse's harness froze me to the spot. Ohmigosh! My first view of an inhabitant! Suddenly I got afraid: what if it was someone or something unfriendly? Trolls were too big to ride horses, but what about goblins or orcs? Or creatures I had no knowledge of?
I immediately dashed off and went behind a group of young pines not ten feet from the road and waited, my heart pounding. This was so exciting!!!
It was a rider on a dark horse. The horse's head drooped and it shuffled along. I could hear the click of its hooves on the rocks and little puffs of dust surrounded each footfall. Even I (not much of an equestrienne) could see the animal and its rider were exhausted. I could even smell the sweat of the animal as if it had gone a long distance at great speed. Were they running from something or in a hurry to reach someplace?
As they drew level with me, I peered through the slightly dusty, prickly branches of the young pines. In the lowering gloom, I could at least see the rider was human as he jerked his head up and the hood of his cape fell back. His shoulder-length dark hair was plastered to his forehead and it appeared as if there were streaks of dirt or maybe blood on his cheeks and running down into his square bearded jaw. The expression on his face looked muzzy, as if he were waking up from an uneasy doze. Disoriented, he pulled his mount to a halt just opposite me. Light-colored eyes passed over me in my hiding place as he scanned the area around him. In the dim light, the man looked to be in his mid-forties, but details were hard to see. Even in the twilight, I could see the bow and quiver slung across his back and the long sword at his side. Sighing heavily, he shrugged and clucked to his horse. The animal, wavering a bit, stumbled forward.
I bit my lip. Should I let the rider go or come out into the road and say hi? No, no, I would probably just frighten him to death and actually, I was a little afraid too. I was not dressed in medieval-Renaissance style at the moment. Valerie and I had not known the magic would work, we had just been experimenting to see what was needed. I looked down at my tennis shoes, jeans and t-shirt. Not very impressive and my clothes would certainly not allow me to blend into the scenery easily!
The rider slumped forward over the saddle horn and swayed some. What if he was injured and not merely exhausted?
I wrestled with my thoughts while the rider slowly made his way down the darkening road. Frightening someone was not my idea of a good first impression. So I decide to follow at what I hoped was a discreet distance, that way, if he really was hurt, maybe I could help.
But I couldn't stop grinning as I followed along as quietly as I could. I was in Middle Earth!! The sky above me was filling with unfamiliar stars. The air around me, though sharply tainted at the moment with the strong smell of horse, was also scented with pine and other herbal scents. My heart lifted and I almost felt like singing. But of course, I realized that would scare the two ahead of me no end!
I crept on, keeping to the trees and brush along the road so as to not be too visible and did my best to avoid cracking any twigs or tripping myself.
But once the twilight faded, I realized that stumbling along in the dark woods was going to get me lost, whacked in the face by a branch or thumped by a tree. Just as I was about to go out into the road, I heard the sound of water and suddenly realized with a rush how thirsty and hungry I was. I picked up my speed and found the stream a few yards ahead. But finding an edge from which to drink was not going to be easy in the dark. I spent several minutes feeling along the damp ground, my hand brushing unknown plants, some of them releasing pungent odors as my hand brushed them. And of course, one of them had to be nettles and I got my hand stung. Shaking it angrily, I decided to just slide down the bank and risk wet shoes. I was really thirsty.
Still shaking my hand, I splashed into the stream a few feet below and with a sigh, put my hand in the icy water, which helped a lot. Bringing my face to the water, I smiled and touched my lips softly to the surface. Middle Earth water! Maybe even the Bruinen!! Well, probably not, it didn't sound noisy enough to be a river.
I gratefully drank the water, which was clean and refreshing. I just stood there until I realized my feet had gone ice cold numb in the water. Turning back the way I came, I clambered up the hillside and stood in the dark, smiling like an idiot, even though my hand still burned. Was this the greatest or what!!?
An owl hooted overhead as I stared into the impenetrable dark. Remembering the direction I had come to get to the water, I went cautiously forward. Unfortunately, I knew my passage would not be quiet since I could not see my hand in front of my face. And my tennis shoes were squelching.
I walked slowly ahead with my hands out in front of me. Luckily I bounced off just a few trees and stumbled only twice before I saw the pale grey of the road. It sure would be handy if the moon came out.
Creeping even slower as I neared the road, I strained to hear any signs of activity. Nothing. Knowing the rider had gotten a considerable lead on me, I decided a little jogging wouldn't hurt and I took off squishing in the dirt. Because the road was pale, even in the deep dark, it was more visible than not, so I confidently trotted down the road.
Foolishly it turns out.
I am hardly a woodswoman. I have gone camping and like the outdoors and even know a lot of my birds and flowers. But running cheerfully after a lone horseman in a strange land was a bit too cocky of me.
And I paid the price.
Huffing and puffing some, I followed the road, my mind just joyfully handling the fact I was in the land I loved. That I was able to travel to the mythical land of Middle Earth! To see the elves and Elrond! Gandalf! Or hobbits! Of course, I had no idea exactly when I was in the timeline of events here. Ahh, but who cared, I was on the road to adventure in a land I only ever expected to see in my mind and heart! (And admittedly, the films had been as close to my imagination as anything.)
Thwing! An arrow hit the road ahead of me!
Of course, I did exactly the wrong thing. Instead of running like a bat out of hell for the dark under the trees, I stopped terrified. Who was shooting arrows? Orcs? Elves? The lone horseman?
Thwack! Another arrow whizzed over my shoulder. Without thinking, I cried out, "Stop it! I mean you no harm! Honest!"
Now I ran!
Thump! This arrow did not miss and I dropped to the road, as the arrow sliced across my shoulder and fell a few feet from me. Grinding dirt and pebbles into my face and hurting my jaw, I landed hard. The shock kept me from moving right away and then, when no more arrows flew, I levered myself up to my knees and elbows. My left shoulder stung like the dickens.
I sat back on my heels. Oh lord, the pain made my head swim. I groaned aloud, since silence didn't seem necessary now. "You bastard!" I choked out, tears springing to my eyes. "And I was having such a nice time!" The pain made me gasp again and I huddled in the road, afraid I might get sick.
Why didn't the archer come and finish me off?
The squeak of leather and soft footfalls came up behind me and I turned awkwardly and saw the tall figure of the horseman looming over me like a tree against the lighter dark of the night sky. I could smell a faint whiff of leather and sweaty male. Angry, I grabbed a nearby rock and tried to bean him with it. He dodged aside easily. This made me more angry and I stood up, ready to smack him in the face. "I'm just a traveler! I mean you no harm, you weasel!" I shouted, lifting my fists.
Never got a chance. He beat me to the punch, as it were, and hit me right in the jaw. I went down for the count.
He knelt by me and tipped up my head, as I rubbed my really painful face. He said something questioningly in what could have been Elvish, but heck, it could have been Gondorian too. No matter what, I realized with a sinking heart, I couldn't understand a word. (I was hardly fluent in Elvish anyway). Maybe, just as puzzled as I, he thought I was from some far land like beyond the Sea of Rhun or Far South Harad.
I pulled my head away and tried to stand, but I swayed and fell painfully to my knees. He made no move to help, but just stepped back, watching me. He then shook his head and walked away. It almost sounded as if he limped. I tried to find another rock as a parting gift, but came up empty-handed.
Shivering violently, I crawled out of the road, the pebbles poking painfully into my knees and hands. The dust I disturbed went right up my nose and I sneezed a couple of times, which really hurt my shoulder.
Once I reached the softer cover of pine needles and dead leaves, I made my way until I got a face full of leaves, where I sat down.
The lone horseman, in the meantime, had gone back to his horse and remounted. The animal stopped close to me, I could feel its heat and I heard it toss its head nervously with a snort, its harness jingling.
I wrapped my arms around myself and stared in the dark. The rider spoke to me again, tiredly as if explaining things to me. "I-I wish I could understand you! I didn't mean to scare you! I'm not a goblin or-or an orc!"
"Orc?" he echoed back in question. I heard him mumble under his breath. Then he pulled away and took off down the road at what sounded like a trot.
I closed my eyes, the throb of my shoulder keeping time with my heart beat.
Oh joy. Welcome to Middle Earth.

I sat there stunned, the cold seeping up from beneath me, which made me shiver constantly, jarring my shoulder. My hands, knees and especially my jaw ached. Leaves and pine needles weren't as comfortable as I had hoped.
Oh, my lovely ramble in the woods had turned into a nightmare.
My first meeting with someone from Middle Earth and he shoots an arrow at me. And on top of that I had nursed the idea that what Tolkien had called the Common Speech was English. Of course it wasn't---more fool I. This wasn't England and no one here was going to sound like a member of the Royal Shakespeare Company. The horseman's accent had been unplaceable, soft and liquid, but not like any language I had ever heard. And I only knew a few words of Elvish---and even those I was uncertain as to their pronunciation.
Brushing away moths and mosquitoes flying around my face I thought, trying to put a good spin on the situation, how could things get worse?
I should have kept my thoughts to myself. I heard the snuffling of a questing animal drawing near.
"Go away!" I flailed about trying to make I-am-bigger-than-you noises. The creature snuffled again then I could hear it pattering away. Shifting uncomfortably, I could feel blood trickle down my back.
I closed my eyes, swallowing dryly. Perhaps I could make it to the stream again. I pushed up from the ground, my head whirled and I promptly got sick which made my environment that much more pleasant. I was really thirsty now. Gritting my teeth, I got to my hands and knees, focused hard and moved towards the road, which was shinning pearl-like in the dark as the half-moon rose straight ahead. Well, at least I wasn't going to run into any more trees for awhile.
I set off letting the pain settle to a dull roar, though when I stumbled occasionally, the pain would flare sharply.
The road shortly crossed the stream I had taken a drink from earlier and grateful for the strong stones of the old bridge crossing it, I slid down the embankment and bent down, putting my head in the water, which really woke me up and really made my jaw ache. Fingering it gingerly I thought "You bastard!" I drank for a few minutes and then sat back on my heels. The air smelled fresh and damp and I sighed, idly watching the moonlight sparkle on the flowing water. Groaning, I finally stood, as it was getting too cold to sit and made my way back to the road. As I crossed the bridge, I stopped in the middle and looked up and downstream but could see nothing but the fitful sparkles of moonlight and the edges of the trees lining the stream. No lights or fires to indicate any other travelers.
"All this, and not a soul in sight! It will probably be days before I see another person! I wonder how far Rivendell is from here, if indeed, I am going in the right direction?" The moonlight did at least show me there were mountains ahead, but which ones, I could only guess.
By the position of the moon and my exhaustion, a couple of hours must have gone by when I crossed paths with the lone horseman again.
He lay in the road before me, his horse nearby, cropping the grass at the road's edge. I approached carefully, suddenly afraid he might be dead! Lord, I'd never dealt with someone dead before!
I crouched by his side, he lay stomach down in the dirt, his face turned to the side. I could see no obvious injury, no arrows or sword cuts or knife wounds. I patted him on the cheek. "Hey! Wake up! You can't lie here for any Tom Dick or Orc to find you!" His flesh felt cold. I awkwardly rolled him over. Nervously, I lay my head on his chest to hear his heartbeat. And lo and behold, it thumped, slowly. Well, at least he was alive. But what was I going to do? How could I get him on his horse? I slapped him again, a little harder, wincing as I did so. This elicited a small groan out of him, so I hit him again and suddenly, his eyes sprung open! I almost dropped his head in the dust.
"Hi there! It's me, that nasty old stranger you were taking potshots at down the road aways." He blinked at me uncomprehendingly and tried to sit up. Alarmed, I helped him up, holding him up by the shoulders as he felt weak and rubbery to me. "I am Marie." I pointed to him with a questioning look. I pointed to myself again. "Marie."
He repeated my name "MArie," nodded his head tiredly and pointed to himself. "Malwen."
I stared at him frustrated because I couldn't explain anything further.
Wait. "Imladris?" I asked, hoping I was pronouncing the Elvish name for Rivendell in a remotely understandable way. I pointed down the road towards the mountains.
He nodded again and said "Imladris." I guess I had pronounced it right. And Rivendell was that way! Great! Now what?
He tried to stand, so I got up under one of his shoulders and helped him. A short whistle and his horse ambled over with lowered head. Grateful for the larger bulk of the animal, he leaned against his mount and then looked at me. I could see his face clearly in the moonlight as he had obviously washed off the dirt or blood I had seen earlier. He had light colored eyes, a slightly crooked nose, a generous mouth set in a square jaw. A small scare was visible on his left cheek, which looked like a nick from a blade. His hair was thick and slightly curly and hung a few inches past shoulder length. Well-muscled, he stood at least 6'3".
I was impressed. He turned to remount, but his foot slipped out of the stirrup and he fell against the horse, which shifted slightly. I stared at his exhausted face. All right, he WAS hurt. I know, I know, he'd just used me for target practice, but I figured he'd been confused and it was dark and I was dressed funny. Besides, he was the first person I met and I couldn't just ignore him lying in the road. If he proved to be really obnoxious, well, it was obvious he'd not put up much of a fight now.
Sighing, I bent down and made like a footstool. Well, hopefully only this once. He stepped lightly on my back, but like I said, he was a big man and I sucked in sharply when his weight settled on me, albeit briefly. He dragged himself into the saddle. I backed up tiredly from his horse so he could ride off. Saying something, he moved his horse down the road a bit to a boulder on the verge, where he waved me on. Catching his drift, I went and got on top of the rock. He pulled his mount over and I slowly sat behind him. Not only was there a blanket roll, but his saddle had a high back. I adjusted myself as comfortably as I could. Undoubtedly asking if I was settled, I answered, "As well as can be my lord." The horse did not jump off into a bone-jarring trot, but started slowly in a walk allowing me to find my balance, for which I was thankful. Afraid to lean on Malwen (and of course, uncertain as to where he might be injured) I clutched the saddle back and hoped for the best. The horse picked up speed as I stopped fidgeting.
But once he began to trot, I was in agony. Clutching the saddle with nettles in my hand was nasty. And to put it delicately, I was bouncing tender parts of me on hard uncomfortable bits of leather and the movement also didn't help my shoulder. I gritted my teeth and hung on for dear life.
It took only a half an hour to reduce me to tears of pain. This was not going to work. No matter how nifty it was to be riding tandem with this man, I couldn't handle the bouncing. And for heaven's sake, the poor horse. I'm hardly a willowy elf. I smirked at that thought.
Taking a deep breath, I tapped Malwen on the shoulder and he pulled the horse to a halt. I slipped, almost fell to the ground the minute we stopped. I stood on rubbery legs, leaning on the horse and when he frowned in question at me, I shook my head. I didn't know how to tell him what was really wrong, so I did what they did in the movies, I straightened and slapped the horse on the rump in hopes he'd leap away and I could go collapse in peace. Needless to say, the horse only swung his hip away from me. Malwen's frown deepened. I smiled thinly at him again. Wow! I had another non sequitur moment and became enthralled with my circumstances again. This was Middle Earth and it was really too cool to be dealing with someone, no matter how inefficiently! I just stood gaping at him, entranced by my wayward thoughts.
But, reality flooded right back in and my good feeling faded as I realized I couldn't ride any further. Dropping my gaze, I bit my lip, and shook my head. Sighing, I started walking carefully forward trying not to cause myself any more pain. I probably looked like a drunken crab. Malwen called out to me, but I shook my head, and waved him away.
The horse and rider quickly came along side me and Malwen again asked something. I looked up at him, and frustrated, I just threw up my hands and kept walking. He followed me silently. Soon there was only the creak of the leather, the click of the horse's hooves, the squish of my shoes. I sneaked a look at him. He looked as exhausted as I felt. Not a picnic for either of us I guess. Somewhere, at some point, we were going to reach Rivendell and I has holding to that thought. My enchantment with the color of the dirt and the fragrance of the air faded as I concentrated on just squishing along in my still damp shoes.
Rivendell or bust!

Wrapped in my own thoughts and dull pains, it took me a moment to realize that Malwen had stopped. I glanced up, the moon behind us now, so I couldn't see his face. He sat weaving slightly in the saddle. And then, like a big tree falling, he slowly drooped, headed for the ground.
"Wait! Oh no! Malwen!" I leaped up and caught him. But like I said, he was a big man and the two of us hit the ground in a tangle of cape and weapons. At least he didn't do it head first. I lay there, he half on top of me, a dead weight, my arrow notched shoulder being pinched by his weight. Tears sprang to my eyes and it took me a moment to ease myself out from under him. His near foot was still stuck in the stirrup.
Laying him carefully on the ground, I rubbed my jaw where his bow or quiver had banged into me. I carefully untangled his booted foot from the stirrup. I had to find his injury, he could be bleeding to death here!
Gently I felt around for a damp spot along his chest and legs. I was rewarded with a moan, as I felt his upper left thigh. I blew my breath out and sat on my heels. The whole thigh was damp and my tentative fingers had found a slash about four inches above his knee. My first aid skills were rudimentary and I could barely see, but I figured at least a pressure bandage of some kind would help here. What to use? I tried ripping a piece of cloth off his cape but it was thick wool. I grabbed a handful of his tunic and yanked hard. This just made him moan. I rubbed a hand across my face. Well, it had to be done. I leaned over and pulled out his very long sword, whose weight almost made me drop it near his face. Wrestling the blade with both hands, I propped it up between my knees and sawed a piece of fabric loose from his tunic. Placing the sword carefully to the side, I bent over him, pulled his wounded leg up so I could slip the cloth around his thigh. I tied it as tight as I dared. Laying his leg down carefully, I picked up his sword, intending to put it back in his scabbard, when I realized with a terrible prickle of fear, I was no longer alone!
I bent slowly to look under the belly of the horse, who had not moved all this time, but just stood swishing its tail idly. I couldn't see anything and was just about to turn around, when I felt a sharp prick at the base of my neck. Oh lord, not another berserker ready to slice me in half. Sighing, I bent my head forward as submissively as I could. How had I missed the sounds of this rider?
The man with the sword (as I could tell from his voice) spoke in the same language as Malwen. I answered in an even tone. "I don't speak your language, I'm afraid." I put a hand on Malwen. "This is Malwen and he's really hurt. I am Marie and I am just pissed at being hit and shot at and generally treated like a monster." I figured he wouldn't know that last bit.
The unknown swordsman remained silent for a moment and then spoke again with what actually sounded like amusement. Oh great, a clown. The sword point dropped from my neck and I turned slowly, afraid of what I might see.
I sighed heavily again. It was just another man in black, who looked very similar to Malwen, handsome in a lone horseman kind of way: long dark hair, bearded and light-colored eyes, draped in a long cloak. Intelligent, knowing eyes actually. The moon was shining over the horse, so I could see his face easily. He was smiling as if aware of a good joke. I pointed to Malwen's thigh. "Okay funny boy, Malwen needs some help here! Can you lend a hand?" I scooted out of the way, a bit leery of standing suddenly since he still hadn't sheathed his sword.
The man put his blade away at that, and then bent to examine Malwen. His hands gently probed the gash around my pressure bandage and he looked at me and actually smiled and nodded. Putting his hands around Malwen, he lifted him with a grunt and actually slid him back onto his horse. Wow, he was strong! I immediately ran around to help prop Malwen so he didn't slide again. The stranger picked up Malwen's sword and slid it back into its scabbard. Then, with a lot of hand gestures, he made it clear he wanted me to walk along side of Malwen and grab him in case he began to slip. Nodding that I understood, I put a hand on Malwen's good leg. He remounted quickly and took off in a trot. I jogged along with Malwen who thankfully, because his weight was forward over the pommel and he was balanced well, remained in the saddle.
I, of course, was running on empty, hadn't had any water in ages and jogging really aggravated my bruises and cuts.
Somehow, I hadn't imagine my visit to Middle Earth involving sneaking and injury.
The unknown rider called a halt. It had to be close to 3 or 4 in the morning and once we stood still, I couldn't stop shaking. You know, I really had hoped for a nice visit with the elves in Rivendell. And here I was out on the road, playing nursemaid to an unconscious, wounded man and being led by a stranger.
Wrapping my arms tightly around myself, I said slowly, "Imladris?" and pointed down the road with my chin, which made me notice that the mountains were actually a lot closer than they were earlier and that the grade of the road was rising. Great, exhausted and I was going to have to jog uphill now. I leaned my head against Malwen's equally exhausted horse.
"Imladris." He speaks! I looked up at him. He was smiling again. I closed my eyes for a moment and then I heard him dismount. Watching warily as he came up to me, I saw a flask in his hand. All right! A drink!!
"I hope this is 20 year old brandy buddy!" I took the flask with a grateful smile and took a deep slug. Handing it back as I swallowed, the liquor made my eyes water and I started to cough. Whoa!! Somebody was a brewmeister! But it warmed me through and through. Didn't have much of a flavor, something lightly herbal, but what a wallop!
Grinning, he took a swallow himself and tucked it back into a pouch on his belt. I moved out of his way as he checked on Malwen, and spying a boulder nearby, I went and sat down with a grateful sigh. I put my head in my hands, the pearly grey dust around my dirty tennis shoes speckled with bits of glittering granite. I stared sightlessly at them, my mind a dull blank. A sharp cry suddenly cut the air, and then another further away. I jerked my head up. Some kind of hunting bird? Shivering, I slid down to the ground with the rock at my back. The stranger didn't seem perturbed and made no move from Malwen, only looking off to the side where the trees were thick. I closed my eyes again. If he was in no hurry to ride off, I was going to take a moment to rest.
I was on the edge of sleep, highly unusual given how uncomfortable I actually was, when I heard the stranger murmuring. Figuring he was saying something to the injured Malwen, I relaxed and I guess, I actually slept for a few minutes, because the next thing I know, I had been picked up (and mind you, I am no slim sapling!) Heart in my throat, I struggled quickly---not ANOTHER man in black!!! "No, No!" I tried to wriggle free but the man holding me just laughed and said something as he handed me up to another, mounted rider, who gripped me just as tightly as he set me before him. This my friends, was getting not only repetitious, but tiresome.
Glancing up at the man holding me, my blistering comment to this manhandling withered in my mouth and I just slumped, mouth open.
I was being held by an elf. Omigod. His ears, poking through his very long straight hair, were clearly visible in the setting moonlight. As a matter of fact, there were four elves on horseback surrounding us. The moon light loved them, shimmering on their hair, the silver designs on their bows and the metal of their horses equipage. They rode bareback and sat slim and straight, two of them wearing cloaks. I couldn't see any swords. The elf holding me was laughing at something the stranger in black said and before I could think, the whole troop rode off. I noticed Malwen was being held by another elf and his riderless horse, pulled by his reins, trotted along head lifted, behind the stranger in black.
I shivered. Rivendell couldn't be far!
And now, I was afraid almost to breath. Elves. Ohmigod. The one holding me glanced down a few times, his eyes keen and sparkling in the light. He smiled and said something to me in Elvish. I could only grin, feeling like an idiot.
As we rode along, both of us indulged in our curiosity as we kept glancing at the other quickly. I tried to sit up, but mistaking my movements for flight, he held tighter. Elves ARE strong! I swallowed dryly, but it was hard to relax completely.
Over the fragrance of horse, I could smell the clean scent of something both herbal and piney. The cloth against my arm where he held me was soft and silky. I was pretty comfortable, if truth be told.
But, still afraid. And that fear/anticipation grew. I was approaching my goal and here I was with the elves. On my way to Rivendell. Where I might even see Elrond (omigoshomigosh)---or any of the other major players in Tolkien's world.
I hunkered down with those thoughts. What was I going to do? I couldn't speak the language! They might really think I'd injured Malwen and throw me in a dungeon...wait, was there anything like that in Rivendell? It wasn't a fortress but a "refuge." Oh heck, they could probably lock me in a spare room and feed me bread and water. Well, at least it would be Elvish bread and water! Heck, I could stand to lose a few pounds. I glanced at my companion. He was awfully pretty: Thin straight nose, finely arched eyebrows, dark eyes. He looked like a Pre-Raphaelite angel. I wish he could understand me! Tolkien sure had gotten them right!
I began to feel sleepy surprisingly and had to keep jerking myself awake. Oh and then the elves began to sing, something wistful in a strange, unusual harmony. It was very ethereal. This did not help me stay awake.
Worried I'd miss my first view of Rivendell, I couldn't help myself and I said rather petulantly, "Are we there yet?"
My handler, not mistaking my question, laughed and pointed. This time, he allowed me to sit up some and as we came over a rise, I saw Rivendell.
Tears sprang to my eyes and I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, without much success.
It was beautiful. Delicate stonework, arches and traceries and thin bridges spanning the foaming Bruinen. Lights like stars everywhere. It was all an exquisite form of High Gothic architecture and swirls and curves of pathways and terraces.
I was transfixed. If I died right now (or even in a few minutes), I would die happy and fulfilled.
If this sounds like I'm overdoing it too much. I assure you, I am not even close.
You'll just have to see for yourself sometime. (I think Peter Jackson's designers must have visited here, because they were awfully darn close in their realization of the Last Homely House of Rivendell.)
I sat transfixed as we went down a steep path along a cliff side that dropped to the Bruinen. Rivendell. Oh my Lord. I suddenly thought of how the elves all left Middle Earth. How could they leave something this beautiful and glorious for the Undying Lands?
Before too long, we clattered across a stone bridge, went under an arch dripping with vines (as I had to brush some aside) and stopped in a flagstone courtyard. I looked up a sweep of stone stairs to the entry way of what I assumed was the main hall of Rivendell. It glowed with candlelight and torches.
My handler slipped off the horse and pulled me down. I wavered a moment, not taking my eyes off the entrance and then as the others rode up I blinked and tried to gather myself. The elf I rode in with said something to the others and then remounted suddenly. Pulling around me, he galloped back through the archway, as did two of his companions. I guess they were border guards or something going back to their positions. The one holding Malwen took him upstairs, the other man in black following close behind. I was left standing there as they hurried in. But you know, I didn't care too much. I looked around quickly and saw no one else, at first. Then an elf with silvery hair come up and gathered the reins of the three horses, he nodded and bowed slightly and took the animals off into the dark. I took a deep breath and seeing a bench nearby under a drooping bush or small tree, I went and sat. Gripping the stone hard beneath me, I just stared and stared slowly taking in everything.
Rivendell! As dreamlike as it was real! Oh, if I only had my camera or at least a sketchbook or journal! The air was delicately scented with something floral and I wasn't nearly as cold as I had been on the road. But as I sat there, I slowly became aware of my sore legs and cut shoulder. And my exhaustion. Pulling my stiff legs up on the bench, I put my arms around my knees and lay my head on them. I think that strong brandy was wearing off.
I fell asleep.
Someone shook my shoulder. I raised my head tiredly. I could have sworn I was in Rivendell and... I looked up at the man in black. My eyes went wider as I realized I hadn't been dreaming. Swallowing, my mouth as dry as sand, I tried to stand up, but my legs had gone painfully unresponsive and I sat again. The man in black looked at me funny, and then, slowly touched my wounded shoulder, which I drew away from under his hand and hastily covered with my right. He said something to me again in a quiet voice and I looked up. "I wish you understood me." I let my head and hand droop. "I am really tired right now fella. Every muscle in my body aches. I'm really thirsty," I held up my right hand, "and I still have nettles in my palm!!" I added with a whine.
I pushed myself slowly off the bench, trying to go around the stranger. I'd be damned if I wouldn't stand up to this guy. "Now what? Do I get locked up in a spare room somewhere because you undoubtedly think I cut poor ol' Malwen?" I looked him in the eye, my glance not wavering. I wanted to know the worst right off, because I didn't have the energy for a long fight. I looked past him, suddenly noticing the sky had gone to pale lavender. The sun would be up in an hour or so. What a night!
He smiled slightly and swept his arm towards the stairs, indicating clearly I was to go ahead. Sighing, I stiffly went to the bottom of the stairs. Oh, this was going to be fun. I cautiously took each step slowly, but the muscle burn brought tears to my eyes anyway. I should have been in better shape. Taking a deep breath, I stopped at the top of the stairs and looked into the brightly lit hall before me, where I could see some elves walking past, one of them a woman. She was willowy like her male counterparts, but she had thick wavy hair, pulled back with a complicated silver hairpiece to fall thick as a curtain down her back. She glanced my way and smiled, eyebrows lifted as she took in my clothing. I suddenly felt embarrassed, knowing not only was I dressed strangely, I was also filthy with dirt and blood.
The man in black came up behind me and with a brief nudge to my back, indicated the way I was to go. "Okay, okay," I thought. "Don't rush me! You may have seen Rivendell a million times, but this is my first visit!! So let me take this slow and easy."
Stone paths laid in intricate curving designs lay under foot, along with the occasional woven carpets, mostly in blues, greens and yellows. The walls were either stone or warm golden wood. Tapestries and painted frescoes were interspersed along their length as well as plants and statues. Hanging chandeliers filled with sweet scented candles, candelabra and wall torches lighted our way. We took this long curving corridor, which gave me glimpses into small grottoes or gardens with fountains and benches. And archways into rooms, some filled with books or high desks with quills and ink, others with crafts like weaving or what might have been metalworking. We even passed a group singing and playing instruments that looked like a lute and a harp.
The stranger walked slightly behind me, letting me take my own pace.
Finally, we actually reached a closed door and I remark on it because I saw very few doors during our walk. Maybe they were just further in the House.
Placing a hand briefly on my right shoulder, he indicated I should stop. We had come a long way, so I expected this to be my holding cell. He reached around me and knocked briefly, and then entered. Why was he knocking? Nudging me, I entered reluctantly, my eyes to the floor. My first night in Rivendell and I was being made a prisoner.
You are all probably thinking: Girl! If you were being made a prisoner, you would probably have been taken to some outbuilding near the stables and not brought into the House at all! Even elves aren't going to mollycoddle a criminal.
Okay, give me a break, I was really tired and a bit overwhelmed.
The man in black came around me and I looked up. Two elves stood in the room, which looked to be a study. There were two walls of books, A long table with papers, a carafe, a couple of goblets, quills and a large lit candelabra to my left. There was a narrower table along the wall across the room with a bowl of fruit and a couple of latched boxes. An archway led off from the far end of the table from where a warm glow of light spilled forth.
One elf, facing us, stood wiping his hands with a napkin, a smile on his face. He was dressed in a long grey gown and wore a plain silver necklace. Long light brown with coppery highlights hair framed his square face. His eyes were green above a wide generous mouth. The other had his back to us, putting things away in a tall cabinet with small shelves and little drawers.
When the elf with his back turned to us, the man in black bowed slightly and said one word. I nervously clasped my hands and my heart speeded up. I made a little bow too, ready to fall over or run, I wasn't sure which.
Undoubtedly this was Lord Elrond. I figured this was him because the man in black had bowed. He didn't look like Hugo Weaving. So, what did he look like you ask? Well, he was, well, fey looking! He was tall and slender like all the other elves I'd seen. He wore a deep maroon robe of dull satin, with gold embroidery around the neck, the hem and the sleeves. His hair was long and dark brown, almost black, unadorned. His eyes, ooh, well, they were a piece of work. Slightly almond shaped and exoti, they were dark grey, very keen and intelligent, and at the moment, half crinkled with a hint of laughter. He had a sharp, hawk-like nose over a thin mouth, which had a quirk of a smile in it. High cheekbones and slightly pointed chin rounded out his features.
I kept staring until, with a small wave of his hand, he indicated a high backed chair with a red cushion in it. I dropped into it like a rock, still clutching my hands. Damn! I wish I could speak Elvish! He was going to think I was a complete mental case.
As he came up to me, I leaned back in the chair, a tiny bit frightened. Was he going to grill me about Malwen? No, no, his eyes were still smiling. He stopped and looked up at the man in black and said in perfect, though accented English, "So this is the one who found Malwen?"
My mouth dropped open and I rubbed a hand across my face. Okay, so maybe (wahhh!!) this really all was a dream. I could have sworn that Elrond had spoken English, albeit in a soft, what I would call a middle European accent.
And then I got another shock when the man in black smiled and said "Yes foster-father. The stranger from...elsewhere."
I slumped down in my chair and covered my face. I felt faint. They both spoke English, and all along I was thinking the man in black was a...clown. When indeed, he was the next king of Gondor.
I looked up at both of them on the edge of tears. You know, this is just not how I had pictured meeting Elrond or Aragorn, for that matter. I'm not sure exactly how I thought I'd meet them, but just not like this, feeling like an idiot, sitting in blood and dirt spattered jeans and sneakers, my hair a mess, exhausted and injured. I had a strong urge to run.
If I could have only been in something Renaissance-y and clean, with my hair tied back.
"Tell me what happened with you and Malwen, mistress."
I looked up at Elrond, slightly mesmerized as a little voice inside me was squealing ("omigodomigodthisisElrond!!!). I took a deep breath and introduced myself and told him my story.
As I talked he moved away and went to the cabinet he had been in earlier and began to pull down a few things. The other elf joined him and the two brought some small bottles and cloths and lay them on the table behind me.
Elrond poured the contents of one of the bottles on a cloth and then nodded to his assistant, who came around to my injured shoulder and carefully pulled the ripped edges of the t-shirt out of the arrow wound.
My story petered off and I winced until tears came as the scab cracked and pulled away.
"Your tunic will need to come off mistress," the assistant said, "so the wound can be cleaned."
Now what? Three men standing there, waiting for me to take my shirt off. I suppose I should be flattered! I swallowed as I realized: 1). I had no choice if I wanted it taken care of. (and I secretly hoped Elrond could just you know, touch heal it). 2). Their idea of body privacy was probably way different than mine, and 3). They were all ah, healers right? Nothing they hadn't seen before?
I leaned forward and pulled my shirt off (I was not wearing a bra), which hurt like heck, making my eyes smart again. I held my shirt up around my breasts anyway. I could feel myself blushing. Avoiding all of their eyes, I stared out into the study. I was going to be a big girl about this!
But the minute Elrond put the dampened cloth on the seeping wound, I hissed with pain and tears rolled down. I clutched my t-shirt harder. Aragorn put a hand on my arm as if to keep from me leaping out of the chair.
"I am sorry." Elrond said quietly. He turned to his assistant. "Isingal. Would you please pour Marie a glass of wine? Isingal nodded, stepped around Elrond and went towards the cabinet.
"Please my lord, " I licked my dry lips. "Could I please have some water? I am so thirsty."
Elrond nodded. "Water first, Isingal."
I closed my eyes and turned my head away, as Elrond continued. So much for touch healing.
"Mistress?" Isingal stood there with a goblet full of water.
"Thanks so much!" I practically grabbed it from his hand and drank the whole thing down quickly.
Isingal took and the glass back and set it down. I leaned back in the chair, as Elrond had gone back to the cabinet for something. I hoped this wasn't going to go on much further, as I was beginning to feel a bit dizzy and icky.
I yawned suddenly and wiped my face with a hand. Elrond returned and took my swollen jaw in his hand, tipping my head up slightly. His eyes were really, really dark grey. A color I'd never seen on anyone. They were really intense too. Like they were lit from within, like a lightning-lanced storm cloud. How unusual! I blinked a couple of times...
And that was it for me.

It was scary waking up! I was in a strange bed and completely unclothed and I had....no...idea...where..
I took in the painted frescoes on the walls of mountain landscapes and woods, and the slightly Art Nouveau furniture and the wonderful clean, slightly spicy smell and sat up quickly. Three arches beyond my bed opened out into a small garden full of flowers and a small fountain tumbling down amongst ivy, rocks and moss. On a small table near my head, a silver carafe and a lone goblet stood. A bowl of dried herbs sat between them and the wall. It was late afternoon, by the light.
I'm in Rivendell! I wasn't having a really complicated, amazing dream! I was here!
I looked at the shoulder Malwen's arrow had creased. Ooh, the little dickens! The wound was completely gone, except for a slightly red spot where the wound had been deepest. I brought a hand up to my jaw and moved it slowly. That was gone too. Finally, I looked at my right hand, the one that had petted the nettles. Completely clean.
All right Elrond! What a guy! Sneaky, but what a guy!
I looked around the room for something to wear. I found at the end of the bed a simple dress and underclothes, as well as a pair of soft leather boots. And lo, they all fit! (Now that was magic!) Another doorway to the right of my bed led into a bathroom with a large sunken tub of steaming water and herbal fragrance. Watching it a moment, I noticed it was continually being filled and emptied by a natural hot spring. It was nicely warm (I put my hand in it). Since it was obvious I had been cleaned up last night, I didn't really need another bath. But the other facilities were welcome.
Once my 'morning' ritual was over, I went to the carafe and sniffed. Just water. I poured two glasses, I was that thirsty. And now, ravenous.
I stepped out into the small garden, as happy as I have ever been!! There was a riot of lovely flowers: roses, peonies, a yellow lily like one I've never seen. Tiny purple flowers blooming amongst the moss in the fountain. An unknown bird warbled high in a tree, whose pale green branches dipped into the garden. I twirled like an idiot, delighted by the sunshine, the fragrance and feeling so very alive. How could anyone leave this place?
Someone called out in Elvish and I heard my name mentioned. I ran into the room to see yet another lovely elf, this one a woman, leaving a tray with bread and fruit and something hot and steaming on a table near the garden arches.
"Hi there!" I stuck out my hand and she slowly took it. "I am Marie.
I realized she didn't speak English, but wanting to be polite nevertheless, I kept going. "I am pleased to meet you! And thank you for bringing this." She nodded smiling and left.
I turned to my breakfast, ready to devour it in one bite, but then, of course, I slowed down. My first meal here! I needed to savor it!
All right, all right, I won't go on and on about the food, except where necessary (like a feast or something). Anyway, the bread was fresh and melting with butter and honey and the tea was tart with a hint of sweetness and the peaches were delicious.
Needless to say, breakfast didn't last long. And when I was done, feeling a little awkward, I just left the dishes on the table (who DID do the cleaning up around here? Elvish servants? Tolkien never mentioned).
Eyes as big as saucers, I went into the corridor outside my room, which meandered through bars of sunlight, vines and terraces. I walked slowly just absorbing everything. If I passed any elves, I would dip my head respectfully and they usually would smile back or do the same.
Seriously: Elves!! Can you imagine!? Just passing them as if it were the most normal thing in the world! I was just about too giddy to stay earth-bound! And, I really had to stop staring!
At one point, a flight of stairs went down to a grassy terrace overlooking the Bruinen. No one was about, so I trotted down the stairs. The terrace was only a foot or so above the river, so I lay on the grass and dipped my hand in the water, which was bracing and cold. The sun felt nice on my back and I propped my hands under my chin and stared at the rushing water. I wished more than anything to have a book to read. Too bad I couldn't read Elvish, or any of the other languages here.
Which reminded me of a very puzzling fact: How was it Aragorn and Elrond spoke English? How had that happened? Magic? Though most people in our world feel that what we think of as magic in Tolkien's world is just how things are done and not really an artificial, learned thing. I wondered if Elvish was easy to learn.
Then another thought struck me and I sat up and turned to look at this section of the House with its curves of stones and flowers that rose above me. What if other "travelers," for a lack of a better word, had been here (Indeed: perhaps the designers of Jackson's film)? And just as a protective measure, Elrond, Aragorn and a few others had learned the most common tongue of the strangers that appeared (assuming because they knew it, that English-speakers were the most common). After all, if Valerie and I could figure it out, then any number of others could too!
I stood with that thought and got frightened. That means ANYONE: good, bad or indifferent. People ready to exploit the natural wonders of the place! Messing with the story about to unfold (or had unfolded or would unfold). Someone who didn't want Frodo to take the Ring, but wanted to be the Ringbearer themselves! Or other such foolishness: try to marry Aragorn or Legolas, run about Lothlorien, hang out in Hobbiton...or have dealings with the dark side...
Well, not that the elves and dwarves and what have you couldn't defend themselves, but just think of the damage!!!
I flopped down on the grass again and put my head on my knees. And what, pray tell, did I want to do here? Just visit Rivendell? Was my mere presence disrupting the natural flow of things? What if by arriving here and well, meeting with Aragorn and Elrond, that the whole War of the Rings was affected? What if I was condemning the world of Middle Earth to predation by Sauron and his minions and the destruction of everything decent and nice?
I went back up the steps thoughtfully. Well, maybe it was a bit of an exaggeration to think that my mere presence could destroy everything Tolkien wrote about...but heck, it could be a catalyst!
Seeing a nearby bench, I plopped down and bracing my arms on my knees, I put my chin in my hands, staring at the graceful arabesques in the pattern of the stones. I stared until my eyes watered. I couldn't ruin all this by being selfish. Ah, it was so beautiful! And nothing in my world could compare. Here there was no smog or freeways or computers, bills or grindingly boring jobs, no television or movies or radio or...books, at least not easily accessible. From Tolkien's writings, I got the impression books were few and far between and undoubtedly expensive as these things went. Not something the common soul would possess. Only scholars and mages, etc.
My thoughts came to halt and I stood suddenly and stared out at the terraced lawn, my mouth open. This was all a moot point, I realized with a shiver. I could have my cake and eat it too as we had not ever really discussed how I would get back to my modern 21st century life. We had been so focused on just opening the door, we never discussed getting out once the door was closed and locked.
Oh dear.
"Mistress Marie."
I jumped and turned around slowly, my heart beating like a nervous hummingbird. Aragorn stood there smiling in a soft blue surcoat over a long gray tunic and black boots. His hair was pulled back in a ponytail. He looked, well, gorgeous. His blue eyes sparkled in his tanned face and he had a delightful, crooked smile. He looked older than I imagined, more centered. You know, less hot-headed and impetuous than a younger man. How could Arwen choose anyone else?
I bowed. "My lord. What can I do for you?"
"Lord Elrond and I would like to speak with you."
"Of course." I joined him and we walked back the way I had come. Trying to think beyond the buzz of my own concerns, I asked, "Well, how is Malwen? Will he survive?" (This last is a joke, of course). Aragorn, being no fool, looked at me, with a half-smile. "Yes, he's doing fine. Your binding his leg last night was very helpful. He should be up and about in a few days."
"I had to do something, I couldn't just let him bleed to death. What happened, by the way? Waylaid by orcs?"
"Orcs? You know of them?" He arched his eyebrows at that.
"Ah, yes, certainly. Creatures of the Dark Lord Sauron, from the last Age I believe..." Open mouth girl and insert both feet and the rest of the closet! Just how are you going to explain knowing that? I smiled feebly at him and swiftly dropped my eyes to the ground.
Aragorn said nothing further for a while. Nervously, I picked up my thread of conversation. "What did happen to Malwen?"
"He is a Ranger. Do you know what that is?"
"Ah, yes, you're one, actually The Dunadan..." The water was getting deeper here.
Both Aragorn's eyebrows went up with that as he continued. "Well, as a Ranger, he can get into all kinds of trouble as he scours the North and keeps an eye out for anything unusual.
"Like orcs," I whispered.
"Yes, like orcs. Though in Malwen's case, it was not orcs, it was a group of bandits attacking travelers on the East Road."
"Ah, I see." I looked up timorously, "Bandits. Well, they can be pretty nasty too, I imagine."
Aragorn nodded, "Hmmm."
"How is it that you and Lord Elrond speak English?"
"Hinglish?" (That's how it sounded) Oh no, Mistress Marie. Your language is an old form of Dwarvish. A Northern dialect if I recall correctly. Elrond will know as languages are a specialty of his. I thought it was called Engwadargkh. But perhaps Hinglish is more correct."
"I see." Oh sure. I am absolutely blind here. But I was slightly encouraged it wasn't because there were more English speakers about.
Lost in thought, I almost walked past Aragorn, who had stopped at an archway leading into the House. "Mistress! Here we are."
"Oh, oh fine." I joined him and the cool shadows of the House made me stop a moment to adjust my sight. We were facing a large open area covered with various dark-hued rugs. The late afternoon sun came through arches to our left and set the dark carpets colors glowing. The center of the room was mostly empty, though ahead of us stood a circle of chairs facing an ornate, Gothic style dais carved from dark wood, over which hung a cloth of old gold and deep green. Beneath it, reading a scroll, sat Elrond. Two other elves stood on either side of him. One listening to Elrond, the other watching our entrance. I shivered suddenly and asked Aragorn in a low voice, "I didn't know Lord Elrond held court."
He whispered back. "Not court. The White Council."
"Ah yes. Of course." I remember that from Tolkien's works. A council made up of many of the heavy-duty players in the world of Middle Earth. The wizards, elves, dwarves and men I believe, who gathered to discuss the state of current affairs and their constant struggle against the Dark Lord.
"Aren't you a part of this?"
As we both bowed deeply, he replied, "I am. I was sent to find you."
I shivered again as I straightened. I had to be very careful here.
Elrond wore a shimmering sapphire blue gown, with curling designs made of long silver leaf shapes. There was a silver circlet on his head, which sparkled as he nodded to the listening elf, who took the scroll from him and rolled it tightly. Elrond looked up as we came through the circle of chairs and waved the two elves away as he stood. He was intimidating, standing there in that long robe, his hands folded before him, his expression serious. And stunningly beautiful in an austere way. I swallowed nervously and smiled.
Lord Elrond stepped down from the dais and came up to me smiling. "Mistress Marie. You look much better this afternoon."
"Thanks to you my lord." I bowed again. "How is Malwen?"
"I was just about to visit with him. If you will follow me."
Nodding, I trailed behind he and Aragorn, glad I had been asked to come along. It would be great to see Malwen cleaned up and rested.
We went through several archways, and crossed the study where I had met Lord Elrond and entered the archway in the back corner of the room. Therein lay Malwen, sleeping. His face, turned towards the right, allowing the afternoon light to softened his features, making him look much younger than last night as his face and hair were clean.
As we gathered around his bed, he opened his eyes. He blinked at Aragorn and Elrond, his eyes widening at the sight of me. "MArie!' (his inflection was like that). Smiling he sat up awkwardly.
"Hi there Malwen! I hope you're doing better." Elrond said something and lay a hand on his forehead briefly. Nodding, he stepped back and looked at Aragorn, who spoke to Malwen in his language for a few minutes.
Malwen spoke slowly to Aragorn, his eyes on me. Glancing at the two men, Aragorn spoke up, laughter in his voice. "Malwen apologizes for thinking you were an orc Mistress Marie. He hopes you will forgive him."
"Of course! I-I am sorry I startled him. I didn't know what to do when I saw him at first."
"He's thankful for your help too."
I went over to Malwen, Aragorn moving aside so I could stand close. I bent down and took his hand. "Get better quick Malwen. There's lots to do out there!"
Aragorn translated and Malwen squeezed my hand, a big smile creasing his face. Elrond spoke up from behind me and Malwen yawned, nodding.
"We best let him sleep some more. He still has some healing to do." I squeezed Malwen's hand again quickly and stepped away. Aragorn indicated we should leave, while Elrond did a quick exam of Malwen's wounds.
A little nervous waiting, I strolled around the study looking at the beautiful handcrafted details of such simple things like a quill holder, the handle of a small knife and the embroidery on a table runner. Boy, could they make a fortune selling these things in my day and age...I slapped a hand over my mouth in horror. What was I thinking?? Exploitation! I was being just like the monsters I was afraid had already visited here. I rubbed a hand across my face, appalled.
Thankfully, Elrond stepped into the study. He went over to the large table and poured us each a glass of white wine from a pewter carafe shaped like a swan. Indicating the chairs around the table, Aragorn and I sat. Elrond remained standing.
Taking a sip from his goblet, Elrond got right to the point, "Where are you from Mistress Marie? What brings you here to Rivendell?"
Taking a sip of the light flavored wine, I put the glass down slowly and clutched my hands in my lap. Feeling a bit uneasy, I told them both how Valerie and I had come across some papers on the Internet (I told him a library, as it would have taken too long to explain computers) and based on notes she and I had made, we came up with a formula/spell we thought would perform exactly as it had: send someone here to Middle Earth, and in my case, near to Rivendell.
Nervous under their scrutiny, I got up and wandered to the other side of the study, to stare out into a fern garden.
"As to why m'lords, curiosity mostly. Where I am from, all of Middle Earth is, well mythical. We weren't sure it even existed." I stared at the two, how handsome they both were and what a gorgeous setting we stood in. I was so glad they existed. But my previous fears rose up again. If I could get here, anyone could...and could I deny them the experience, when I was privileged to be here? I started pacing.
Aragorn interrupted my thoughts. "You seem to know much about us, mistress and you say we are "mythical." From what source did you discover us? Just hidden in a library, in a book of tales? I am a bit confused."
Join the club my lord. Stopping, I looked at him and took a deep breath. "An incomplete series of books have been written about the History of Middle Earth, going all the way back to the creation of the land, the elves, dwarves, everything."
"What length of time does this History cover?" asked Elrond with a sharp glance. I ducked my head. How much to say? I went to the arches again and stared sightlessly at the greenery. "I am afraid to say anything more my lords. I could influence the path of things here, and I really would like to leave them as they are, or will be." I turned to look at them. "It would help me no end to know what Age this is."
Elrond looked at Aragorn and then answered, "It is the Third Age, mistress."
"And how do things stand with, with, ah, Sauron?" I winced, leery of hearing he was on the rise. At least the Fellowship had not been formed yet, otherwise Aragorn would not be here.
"There are rumors of course, but no concrete signs he has returned to Barad-dur." Elrond eyes caught mine, their intensity unnerving. "What do you know of Sauron, mistress? His existence is hardly a common topic of discussion."
"In my world, he is as easy a topic of discussion as the elves, my lord." I replied, wresting my eyes from his and staring down at the tips of my boots peeking out from under my dress. A dress given to me by the serious elf in front of me, a guest in his House and he one of the most powerful beings in Middle Earth. Oh Lord, this whole thing might have been a big mistake. I looked at both men, my heart clenching. They were both so striking, so very much like what I imagined! How could I have turned down a chance to see them in the flesh?
But what might my visit be doing to the flow of things here? I dropped my head in my hands, my earlier thoughts out on the terrace rearing their ugly little heads. What if I was a catalyst for just mucking up everything!?
The whole damn thing was giving me a headache. I rubbed my fingers across my forehead.
"I cannot say anything more my lords in good conscience. You could of course, hypnotize me or something, but somehow I don't think you'd stoop to that."
"Hypnotize?" I do not recognize the word..." Aragorn said uncertainly.
"Pressure my mind and make me say things I'd rather not."
"We would not do such a thing." Elrond said, frowning.
"Except maybe during war, I suspect." I added, inserting feet in mouth again. They sure were comfortable there!
"Are we at war now? Or about to be mistress?" Elrond took a step closer to me, his eyes burning intensely again. I stepped back, right into Aragorn.
"Ah, no, no war now. I hope."
Elrond stepped right up to me, his boots a centimeter from my mine. Aragorn didn't budge. Elrond's eyes, they were getting that lightning-lanced dark cloud look, I blinked and ducked my head. He swiftly grabbed my chin and I tried to scrunch my eyes closed. But somehow my muscles wouldn't work and my eyes were pinned by the stern elf.
Leaning against Aragorn, I kept trying to pull my eyes away from Elrond's piercing stare and even went so far as to raise my hands to loosen his hold on my chin. But just as I was about to succumb and I felt my arms drop and my legs go rubbery, Elrond shuttered his power and stepped back.
"As you say, it is a good thing we are not at war."
Aragorn put a hand under my right elbow to steady me and then guided me over to my chair. I quickly grabbed my glass of wine and took a few sips.
Now it was Elrond pacing the floor and staring out into the fern garden.
"You need to go back to your world, mistress. You could be too much of a disturbance here." He turned with that, his expression still serious. "What you know could affect what will happen. And we must let our history take its course, no matter how 'mythical' it is in your world."
I slumped in my chair, suddenly tired and dismayed. I didn't want to leave. I still wasn't sure what I wanted to do here. And I hadn't had much time to think about it. But if my host was telling me outright I needed to leave, how could I argue?
Then reality slapped me across the face with a wet towel. Oh, yes, that's right, there was the small problem of how I was to get back. Valerie and I hadn't gotten that far! I put my head in my hand with that. Would he believe me if I said I didn't know how to return?
Elrond had come back to the table and picked up his glass of wine. I glanced up at him, biting my lip. Oh heck, if he doubted me, he could just try his powers of persuasion on me again. Obviously it would work!
"My lord," I took a deep breath. "I don't know how to get back to my world. My friend and I didn't know our efforts would be successful. We never got further than how to get here."
"Perhaps, while you've been here, she has discovered how to retrieve you."
"Perhaps." Val was a smart cookie. She'd think of something. "But I don't know what I have to do to prepare. Do I need to go back to the place where I first arrived?" I shook my head. "This is all new to me too."
"I should think that whatever magic you and your friend used, like will call to like: It will seek you out. In the meantime, what to do with you."
A bit frightened at his words, because perhaps, after all, it would be sound to just lock me up in an unused room and keep me away from everyone. I took another couple of sips of wine.
Aragorn, setting his glass down, looked at both of us and said, "Well, foster-father, I think Marie just needs something to keep her occupied and out of mischief."
"Perhaps, " said Elrond, a smile teasing his lips.
"I'd like to learn Elvish" I burst out, " as I really like to read and I don't imagine you have any books in my obscure form of Dwarvish!" I added hopefully. "Or do some drawings. I like to draw." I leaned back in my chair. "Actually there's a lot of things I'd like to do here: learn herb lore, horseback riding, archery!"
"This is hardly a university, mistress." He lifted his hand to stall further discussion. "I shall think on it. In the meantime, riding lessons are easy enough for you to do. Aragorn, if you have no other pressing duties, perhaps you can take Marie to the stables. I think Belingala is still with us. She would be an easy mount for Marie. Let her ride in the training ring and see how she does."
"As you will." Aragorn bowed slightly. I stood and did the same, hastily finishing my wine. "Thank you my lord! Thanks a lot!" I ran after Aragorn.
Excited as a kid at Christmas, I followed Aragorn as we went to the stables. I couldn't help myself, it was almost like getting my own pony! Then, as we came upon the spacious stonework stables, I realized I wasn't really dressed for riding...
I stopped Aragorn. "My lord, well, can I ride in a skirt?"
"Of course, ladies do it all the time, unless you prefer a side saddle. I am not sure we have one here."
"All right, I'll try it. At least I have boots on." Nodding, Aragorn strode into the stable and introduced me to Cerwal, the horsemaster of Rivendell. I recognized as the elf who had gathered up the horses last night. Luckily for me not only was Belingala still available, but Cerwal spoke the old Dwarvish.
Cerwal whistled to her after opening her stall door and a dainty mare, pearl grey with flecks of darker grey on her hips and withers and with a long silvery mane, came out and blew in Cerwal's face and then nosed about for a treat. Smiling, Cerwal pulled a lump of sugar out for her from a pocket.
"Mistress, do you prefer a bare horse or saddle and reins?"
"I haven't done much riding, so I think saddle and reins would be best."
Cerwal nodded and went to the tack room and brought out the needed equipage. As Aragorn put on her bridle and adjusted her bit, Cerwal flung on a soft brown blanket and put a beautiful red and green leather saddle with a high pommel and back covered with silver embossing. It was a thing of beauty. I put a hand on the seat saying softly. "Wow. Are you sure it's okay for me to use this?"
"Certainly mistress. Let me give you a leg up."
I stepped into his cupped hands and made an effort to hop into the saddle, but I couldn't. As I've said, I am no slender wisp and I'm not much of a rider.
Cerwal grinned, brushing back his silvery hair, "No matter mistress, let me get a small barrel."
As he went back into the tack room, I stood looking at the straw-covered cobbles, soaking in the wonderful odor of warm horse. I was embarrassed and shuffled my feet around. Aragorn, leaning against an empty box stall, said nothing as he chewed a piece of straw, one foot cocked behind him on the box stall gate.
Cerwal returned with a small barrel, which he put in front of me. As I stepped onto it he swiftly put a hand under my left elbow and boosted me into the saddle.
Success! I adjusted my skirt under me and got comfortable while Cerwal checked the girth and adjusted the stirrups for my feet. Satisfied, he whistled to Belingala and she walked docilely behind him as he led us out of the stables and into the training ring, the gate of which Aragorn had gone on ahead and opened.
Once inside, he slapped Belingala on the hip and she took off around the ring in a trot. I bit my lip and tried to remember what I could about posting and handling the reins. I spent a hour or more out there, getting encouragement and instruction from Aragorn and Cerwal as I went around and around the ring on the patient Belingala until, with the sun setting behind the western wall of the gorge, Cerwal called a halt.
As I rode up to him tired and sore, he said as he patted Belingala on her withers. "You are doing fine Marie. A few more lessons and you'll be able to handle her on your own."
"Really!" I was pickled tink to think I hadn't done too badly in his eyes. I was sure they would both be out there shaking their heads and telling me that I might have better luck improving my hiking skills! I dismounted stiffly from Belingala and went around to rub her nose. She whuffled in my hair, a sweet lass. "Thank you, you beautiful girl you!"
Cerwal whistled and Belingala lifted her head and trotted up to him and as he caught her reins he looked at me and said, "And now you need to learn how to cool a horse off and brush her down." Nodding, I followed him back to the stables. Aragorn bid us farewell and headed back to the House.
For the next hour, Cerwal drilled me on how to take care of the tack, cool the horse off, rub and brush her down and make sure she had something to eat and water.
By the time we were done and Cerwal was satisfied with my efforts, it was dark. I walked slowly back to the House and tried to remember where my room was in relation to the stables.
Again, I was dazed. I'd just had a riding lesson in Rivendell, and Aragorn had been watching! (Undoubtedly to tell Elrond the success or failure of my efforts). Honestly, I would give myself a C+ for effort. I listened carefully and did everything Cerwal said (with some encouragement from Aragorn). I just worried, because I wasn't a willowy elf, my awkward bouncing around was hurting the horse. I know it was hurting me. I was walking stiff as a board. Boy, a hot bath would be heaven.
Before I entered the House proper, I stopped and looked up at the stars, and sighed heavily. This was so wonderful and amazing. To be here and even learn riding. I dropped my head with another thought as I made my stiff way up a thankfully short flight of steps. I had a strong desire to run away and hide somewhere so I would never have to go back...
Wrapped in my thoughts, half-heartedly looking for my room, I got lost. It's embarrassing too, I asked two elves, but unfortunately they didn't speak my old form of Dwarvish and could only smile. Finally, I sat on a bench along a pathway and stared out at the, dare I say, fairy lights twinkling below me in the gardens and terraces of Rivendell. It's so beautiful and peaceful. A group of elves, I couldn't tell the number of voices, were singing something stirring and glorious. Sighing, I lay my head on my knees, as happy and at peace as I've ever been.
I dozed off. When I awoke, I could tell it was a lot later, as the moon had risen. Elves were still singing and the fairy lights still sparkled.
I was ravenous.
Grunting as I stood, stiff from riding, I wandered along. With my stomach growling and my desire for a bath growing, I was getting a bit anxious.
I finally reached a corridor I thought I recognized, so I kept an eagle eye out for the lilac bush that draped over the wall outside the arches of my room.
Ta-da! I had reached it! I went into my room straight for the carafe of water on my bedside table when I smelled food and saw a tray sitting on the table where I'd eaten earlier. Yeah! Still warm, I immediately sat and devoured the soup, bread, chicken (I think) with a light fruit/berry glaze and some dark green vegetable, wasn't sure what it was, but it had a nice nutty flavor. And to top it off, a lemon sorbet, still frozen. Pretty nifty magic!
Grateful someone knew I needed to eat, I sighed replete when I finished the meal. Sipping at the tea, I went into the bathroom and indulged in a long soak in the tub. This was better than any spa!
Feeling more human when I got out, I blew out the candles and dove into bed. Nothing felt more comfortable than the cool silk sheets and quilt.
I slept like a log.

Always an early riser, the sun was just coming up over the eastern side of the gorge when I rose and dressed (there was another clean dress and underclothes, or perhaps the same ones, laying on the end of my bed). Brushing my hair with a brush found in the bathroom, I braided it back, ready for anything.
Not wanting to wait for breakfast, I immediately set out into the soft purple light growing stronger as I strolled. The air slightly damp, still smelled heavenly with jasmine and roses scenting the air. I actually felt like skipping. A light breeze ruffled my sleeves and hem.
As I came around a curve, I saw a broad lawn sparkling with dew and a large circle of elves dancing. A quartet of musician stood or sat off to the side and the singing was cheerful and repetitive. I leaned on the balustrade and watched them move. Wow. They were as graceful as the wind and any ballet dancer in my world would envy their suppleness. Carried away by the music, and just as the sun slid over the eastern escarpment, I decide to mimic their moves, so I started dancing by myself, mentally counting the steps and the turns. I used to take ballet when I was younger (and a lot more supple myself.) Some lessons die hard and I was so caught up in counting and moving, I didn't realize I was being observed until I stopped (because the others had) and a male voice said dryly "Not bad, for a human."
I whirled around to find myself under scrutiny by an elf dressed in dark brown leather pants, a long dark green suede tunic over a grey full-sleeved shirt. His long auburn hair was braided with green glass beads sparkling amongst the strands. He had intense green eyes, a sharp nose, slightly almond eyes (like Elrond) and a thin mouth. And apparently, he not only knew old Dwarvish, but knew he needed to speak it to me. He leaned against a narrow fluted column about 10 feet from me, his arms folded across his chest. A bit embarrassed, I bowed slightly and said, "I-I couldn't help myself, watching the others dance." I pointed over to the group on the lawn, now chatting amongst themselves.
Nodding, he came up to me, and tall like all the elves, I had to look up at him.
"Hi, I am Marie." I stuck out my hand.
He took it gently enough and looked at me strangely. "I was told you are from another world." He shook his head. "I find that hard to imagine. You look as human as any I have met. My name is Fingalan." He bowed slightly, and then slowly let go my hand, but his eyes were still riveted to mine as if he was waiting to see me do something completely unusual, like sprout horns, or disappear.
"What?" His staring was making me uncomfortable. "I am human as you said. I cannot do anything strange and unusual (at least not without equipment)."
Shaking his head, he grinned and said. "I knew it. My friends were jesting. Seriously," he picked up both of my hands "You're really from Minas Tirith, correct?"
"I'd like to see the White City, but no, Fingalan, I am not. And your friends were not jesting." Tired of the scrutiny, I made to go past him.
"My apologies then mistress." He caught up to me. "You must have amazing stories to tell about your world. Could you not join my friends and I this evening in the Hall of Fire and share some with us?"
Uncomfortable, I just nodded and went past him, as if I had somewhere to go. And damn, the stables were back past Fingalan. I strolled, head down. I never thought I'd be an object of curiosity. I figured both Elrond and Aragorn would keep quiet about me. But what of the elves who found us on the road or the woman who delivered my meals? Isingal? Cerwal? Obviously one of them (or all of them) had not been pledged to silence. I shrugged. Perhaps Elrond really didn't care, as soon I would be gone. I stopped with that thought and looked about me. I went to a nearby balustrade and sat on a chaise against the stonewall beneath and stared at the western escarpment of the gorge within which Rivendell nestled and saw the breeze stir the trees at its high edge. The glistening of waterfalls also caught my eye, cascading like veils of fine lace off the edge of the rocks. A pair of hawks circle up high and the air, lazily stirred by the wind, was once again filled with many floral fragrances. How could I leave this? How? It was so beautiful and peaceful and amazing! I leaned my head on my folded arms and, surprised by the tears rising, I turned my face into my arms and let them flow. I couldn't believe I was sad. What was making me unhappy? I realized it was because I didn't want to leave Middle Earth, and I didn't want to be treated like an odd creature in a zoo exhibit. But there seemed no way around it.
Maybe it was a bad idea I came here. How could I expect to blend in when I spoke none of the languages? I was certainly grateful for the coincidence that English was an obscure Dwarvish dialect. I don't know how I would have felt if no one understood me. And what actually did I have the skill to do here? Computer skills were of no use here or driving a car. Well, I could write, but certainly not anything anyone could read, except maybe Elrond. And my drawing skills were only okay, I was actually better with a camera. WHAT could I do to be useful? I was an indifferent gardener, loved animals but had never been around farm animals as I was a city girl. I could sew, but certainly not really well by hand. I was much better with a machine.
These thoughts were not making me any happier. I realized my best skill at this point seemed to be as a guest that lingers long past their welcome, and even the welcome had been understandably muted. I lifted my head and let the breeze dry my tears. Sighing heavily, I went back the way I came (hoping Fingalan had moved on) and headed towards the stables. At least learning riding was productive. But for what?
As I crossed the courtyard before the stables, Cerwal came out and smiling, waved me on. At least someone was glad to see me. "Hi Master Cerwal! May I ride Belingala today and continue with my lessons?"
"Certainly. We can work more on your posting and then try a canter out along the meadows beside the river."
"Great!" I followed him into the comfortable dimness of the stable and helped him put the tack on Belingala. And this time, when he assisted me into the saddle I was able to get up without the use of a barrel.
I worked hard on getting the rhythm of Belingala's paces in the ring and by the time an hour had past I was actually picking it up. Less bouncing on the poor horse!
As I concentrated on the reins and my movements, I missed Cerwal leaving but when I saw him at the open gate mounted on a big bay gelding, I smiled and joined him. And off we went through the stone arch and out onto a path that followed the Bruinen quite a distance. Cerwal told me it went all the way out of the foothills and into the Wild proper. And cantering was great fun and much easier to do than posting. Even Belingala seemed to enjoy the run. We spent most of the afternoon riding.
We made a brief lunch stop at an outlying farm (run by elves) where a good many of the fresh fruits, vegetables and chickens were grown for use in the House. We had a wonderful salad and some fruit.
I was feeling more the thing when we trotted back to the stables, though, once again, I knew I was going to be happy with a long soak in the tub.
When I reluctantly got out of the warm bath, dinner was waiting as before, still hot and fragrant. I ate it all and I really did intend to go to the Hall of Fire to meet up with Fingalan and his friends, curious in spite of his arrogance, but the hot bath and the hot meal, well I could barely keep my eyes open and the bed beckoned.
I slept long and deeply.
Breakfast was waiting when I awoke and dressed (not so early as the previous morning) and I devoured it. I certainly seemed to have an appetite here! But of course, I was getting exercise and not eating any junk food. Anxious to go riding this morning, I looked around for Master Cerwal at the stables, but no one was around. I went to Belingala and she immediately put her head over her stall door and I rubbed her velvet nose and scratched her ears. I a bit nervous to saddle her myself without permission, so, with a last pat, I went towards the sunny courtyard and just as I was blinking away the bright light of outside, I literally ran into Fingalan again.
He straightened me up and then bowed slightly. "Ahh, our stranger from afar. Where were you last night?"
"I meant to come, but, but after supper, I fell asleep. Sorry!"
He made a funny face and I just shrugged, feeling slightly foolish. I could almost hear him think, "Human!"
"Anyway Fingalan," I indicated the stables, "Master Cerwal is not in."
"That's all right, I can saddle my own horse."
"Where are you off to?" I asked suddenly, because I had no pressing plans and maybe he'd let me go with him and I really wanted to practice my riding.
"Thalgarn needs a good run, he has been in the stables for days."
I bit my lip. I did know how to get Belingala saddled now. "Do you mind if I went with you?"
He looked at me, his green eyes glowing from the sunlight beyond the stable door. "All right."
I clapped my hands excitedly and went and got Belingala. Surely it would be all right to saddle Belingala. After all, Cerwal would be able to figure who had taken her for a run. Using the same tack as Cerwal, I only needed help flinging the saddle up on her back as it was still an awkward weight for me. Fingalan threw it on Belingala easily after watching me twice.
"Thanks." I mumbled and quickly finished adjusting the girth and with a bit of a run and a hop, I actually got mounted without any help! Oh boy, I was ready to ride!
Fingalan didn't dawdle but dashed off out into the courtyard and onto the path along the Bruinen, me and Belingala in quick pursuit. Ooh this was going to be exciting!
The horses were fresh, it was a beautiful late morning (well every morning is gorgeous in Rivendell) and my spirits were high. We raced along the path, I letting Belingala get her stride and allowing Fingalan to take his stallion far ahead.
We went further today than I had yesterday, taking the path past the Ford of Bruinen (ooh where Glorfindel would hold back the Nazgul at some point!) and further, where after a few miles, the gorge began opening out into the Wild. Wow! I was seeing more of Middle Earth! And we were sailing off into a spectacular brightly lit view of the Misty Mountains, surrounded by clean and bracing air. A few clouds sailed like schooners above. It was fabulous! I felt like singing.
After over an hour, I pulled up Belingala to give her a breather, keeping an eye on the receding form of Fingalan and his stallion.
Practicing my trotting, I enjoyed being on my own and again reveling in the joy of being a part of Middle Earth. Heck, if Fingalan disappeared, I'd still be as happy as a clam.
Slowing down to a walk, I noticed I really couldn't see my companion. Shrugging, I strolled along on Belingala, enjoying the Bruinen to my left, more broad and shallow here surrounded by green meadows dotted with white and yellow daisies. A few miles away I could see the darker green that signaled the beginning of the woodlands.
Tired and a bit warm, I decide to dismount and go over to the river so both of us could have a drink and I could take off my boots and wiggle my feet in the water.
Ahh, the water felt wonderfully cold and tasted great. Squatting by the river's edge, I looked in the pebbly shallows for pretty stones and watched little tadpoles wiggle about.
As I was wading and picking up stones, Fingalan came riding back up with a rush.
"What, tired already? I should have known a human couldn't keep up."
A little irritated by his manner I said frowning, "I just wanted to wade a bit and get a drink. What's the all-fired rush about? Are you trying to impress me? I can see you ride well."
His superior look high from the back of his stallion fell into a grin. "Perhaps a little, mistress human." He jumped off and led Thalgarn to the water, where he bent and slurped the water. Fingalan took a few hands full himself. Standing, he looked about. "I know where we might find a berry patch. I stopped there when I rode in."
"That sounds good for all of us! I bet the horses would like a sweet treat too. And my name is Marie. Stop calling me 'human' as if I'm something disgusting."
Nodding, he watched me, hands on hips, while I put my boots on and gathered my pebbles, which I put in a small pouch he offered. As I pulled Belingala around he swiftly lifted me up into the saddle. Impressed, I kept my surprise to myself and thanked him. In moments we were cantering off towards the woods.
Once under the trees, he actually slowed down and walked at my side. I had been thinking about his attitude towards me. From the outset of my visit here to Rivendell, I sort of expected a supercilious view of humans, but figured most elves would be too polite to indulge in it. "How old are you Fingalan?"
He thought a moment, "Older than you---"
"---little human!" I finished for him. "Come on, just tell me."
"856 years as it is reckoned in your time."
"Hm. That's not very old for an elf. Isn't Lord Elrond something like 6500 years old?"
"Well, yes, but he is founder and Lord of Rivendell, so it would follow that he would be older.
"Yes, of course." My turn to smirk. "You aren't from Rivendell, either are you? Mirkwood? The Grey Havens?" Somehow, he just didn't have the feel of an elf from the Golden Wood.
He looked at me sharply and ducked a branch I had to move quickly to avoid getting whacked in the face with and nodded. "Mirkwood."
A thought suddenly struck me and I actually stopped my horse. "You wouldn't be here in ol' Rivendell for a little, well, 'polish' would you?"
I hit a nerve! "Certainly not! I have an errand to complete for my clan and when I am done, then it is back to the shadows of Mirkwood."
"An errand, hm? And just what would that errand be?"
"It is Elvish business and not for your ears." Fingalan was really a teenager!
"Well! I guess I'll just have to get some pointy ones then, won't I?"
He looked at me shocked and I laughed out loud. What a pushover!
I remained silent with my thoughts ("Hm. Me with pointed ears? I wonder if Elrond could do something? What a souvenir!" Just kidding...I think!)
A few minutes more riding, and Fingalan called a halt and slipped off Thalgarn. Before I could dismount, he came and helped me down, which I thought was very nice of him. He took me by the hand and leading both horses by their reins, we went deeper into the woods.
By a small stream, hung over by hoary old willows, draped in ivy, Fingalan pointed to a pool of sunlight where I could easily see a patch of strawberries. Yum! My favorite! Beyond, I could see a narrow trail fording the stream close by. So he hadn't made up a story about coming this way.
I sat with him and we sought out the indeed, sweet berries, feeding a few to the horses as we went along. They were delicious and I hate to say, I think we cleaned out that little spot. The warm sunlight made me drowsy so I leaned up against the nearest willow and said with a wave of my hand, "I am going to just enjoy the sun and warmth. Go wander!"
"And so I will!" He saluted me and took off into the dappled shadows.
Sighing deeply, I leaned against the warm tree, with half closed eyes. There were a couple of birds singing off across the stream and through the swaying leaves, I could see more clouds sailing. Ah, maybe we would have rain. Wouldn't Rivendell be neat in the rain! I sank deeper into the ivy and got comfortable. The breeze made soothing noises through the trees and though I didn't intend to, I fell asleep. I guess because it is so relaxing here! No phones or mail or anxious bosses. This was the best vacation I've ever had! (and certainly the farthest I've ever traveled!)
I coughed, something was tight around my neck. Half-asleep and thinking I'd sat on my dress and pulled the neckline deep against my throat I adjusted my dress and tried to sleep again. But now, I was choking in earnest. Snapping my eyes open, I found myself surrounded by ivy! The ivy was choking me! What was happening? I tried to call out to Fingalan, but I couldn't get a word out because I couldn't get any air in! I tried to pull the vines off, but they were winding like wire!
I thrashed about, trying to make enough noise so that maybe Fingalan would hear me, but I was losing the battle. Just my luck to meet something/someone like Old Man Willow. Except of course, it wasn't the willow! My vision was going dark and I was gasping like a fish. I passed out.
But just before I did, I could swear I heard laughing.
When I opened my eyes, I was lying near the strawberry plants and staring at the toes of Fingalan's boots. I had a headache and sat up slowly, wincing, bringing a hand to my bruised throat. I remembered the laughing and looked at Fingalan, whose expression was neutral.
He bent down and helped me up. "Sorry I couldn't come sooner. I was quite a distance a way."
"What was with the ivy?" And did he know the ivy was sentient? I'll just bet...
"Nothing was with the ivy. The ivy is obviously protecting the willow. It must have thought you were a bear, trying to sharpen its claws against the tree."
I shook my head, dazed and decided not to argue. He wouldn't give me a straight answer anyway. Okay: The ivy thought I was a bear. Boy, I was NOT in Kansas any more.
Rubbing my throat, my hand came away smeared with a little blood. Great. I went past Fingalan and washed off what I could, which stung. Giving Fingalan a look, I went over to Belingala. "Could you please give me a leg up?"
He nodded with a smirk (he sure liked doing that a lot) and grabbing me, he threw me on Belingala's back, startling her so she sidestepped. Sighing, I took up my reins and clapped my heels to the horse and rode off. Fingalan could come or go as he chose. "What a jerk!" I thought and then stared out at the woods as I passed them. I can't believe I just called an elf a jerk! Well, I sighed, touching my throat gingerly again, it takes all kinds. And I knew I must be right about Fingalan's trip to Rivendell. It was obvious he needed some refinement. But, on the other hand, why would it matter? He would probably just stay in Mirkwood and do little traveling beyond its bounds, or have few dealings with anyone other than elves.
Not paying attention to my surroundings, I got soundly whacked in the face with a springy maple branch, which made my eyes water. At least it got me to notice the woods had thinned out. I clapped my heels again and we shot out of the straggling trees and out into the river meadow. The sky had clouded up and the air temperature had dropped some, making me shiver.
Wiping my face, I could feel scratches. Lord I was going to look like I'd wrestled with, well, I don't know what when I got back.
Hearing the thunder of hooves behind me, I restrained myself from comment. Fingalan said nothing either, but kept pace with me.
About a half hour from Rivendell, it did begin to rain. You know, it was just about a perfect ending to a day that had actually started out perfect, but certainly ended crappy.
Brushing the hair out of my face as we crossed the Ford of Bruinen, I picked up my pace and got Belingala to trot so when I entered the stables, Master Cerwal could see how well I was doing, if he was there.
Fingalan swept past me and entered the stables first. He immediately led his horse to his stall and got to work settling him down and drying him off. I let Belingala come to a stop and slid tiredly off her back, which is when the hem of my dress got hooked on the saddle's high pommel and I slipped, and hung there, my head banged on the cobbles as I tried to get loose. Once again, Fingalan didn't hear me or chose to ignore me. Master Cerwal however, came out of a stall and rushed over to me. He picked me up, allowing me to unhook my now ripped dress and carefully set me down. "Mistress Marie, what has happened to you?" He touched my face briefly.
"Oh, I just got whacked in the face by a branch. I should have paid more attention." I could feel a bump on my nose.
"I see." He looked at me sharply, but said nothing more as he led Belingala to her stall. I followed slowly after him, but when I got to the gate he said kindly, "Oh do not worry about Belingala, I shall see her settled. Go on."
I stood there a moment, and then nodded. "Thanks a lot Master Cerwal, it has been a long day." I didn't bother to say farewell to Fingalan.
Dashing out into the rain to get to the covered walkway ahead, I slipped on the cobbles in some horse dung and fell flat on my butt. I glanced quickly about, but saw no one nearby. I got up, rubbing my bottom, and swallowing tears, I painfully went up the stones steps and down the corridor, praying I wouldn't see a soul.
But Rivendell was hardly deserted, and I passed two groups of elves on my way to my room, all fresh and lovely and beautiful, and I, feeling like laundry dragged through the mud, and so human, hunched my shoulders and turned away, embarrassed. I bet none of them ever got dirty! And certainly, never dismounted a horse like a cowboy clown. Heck, even cowboy clowns dismounted with more finesse, I'm sure.
Walking with my head down, I tripped in the ripped hem of my dress, banging my knees into the flagstones. I untangled myself angrily cussing under my voice. Feeling oh so sorry for myself, I almost missed the arches to my room. Looking up suddenly, I noticed I had walked some distance past my signal lilac bush. Turning, I hurried back.
Not wanting to sit on my nice neat bed, I sat, dripping and miserable, rubbing my throbbing knees at the small table where my meals usually were placed. There was no hot meal waiting for me and I slumped and put my head in my hands, tears running into my scratches and stinging. For crying out loud (or in this case, quietly) I was in Rivendell and here I was teary, soggy and unhappy. I didn't expect to find myself in this state, not here. Angry at my weakness, I whirled away from the table and went and stared out at the fountain now all spotted with circles of rain. The fresh breeze brought the wonderful smell of watered stone and plants.
Then tiredness pulled at me, and sighing, I decided at least a bath and then bed. I could wait until morning for a meal. Touching my sore throat, I turned to go back into the room and almost had a heart attack when I saw some elf standing in the shadows near the outside arches.
"Y-yes?" Oh now what? I hadn't the energy to spar with anyone at the moment and shivered. And I was hardly dressed to receive guests.
"Mistress Marie, what has happened?" Lord Elrond strolled into the room, his eyes glittering in the rainy half-light. "I was coming back from the stables, where I had a talk with Master Cerwal and decided I should see how you have been getting along here." He came up to me and tipped my head up, with a slight smile. "I can see things have been a little rough, at least today. Master Cerwal tells me your riding has improved so much, you went out with Fingalan?" His fingers brushed my throat and gently touched the bump on my nose. "Did you fall?"
Nervous, I pulled away from him a bit and brushed my hair out of my face, feeling foolish. "Oh among other things." I looked up at him, and saw he was still slightly smiling. "I am sorry," I picked up the ripped hem of my dress, dripping and mud-splattered. "I- I guess I ruined this dress, and my boots are all mucky and I think the heel is loose on my left one. And I met up with a live ivy plant, I mean sentient." Elrond cocked his head at the word 'sentient.' "It means alive and aware." He nodded and stepped closer to me and I stepped back. "And I hate the fact I am an oddity and out of place." And you my lord, are making me so nervous I want to run. But I found I was against the table. I clutched the edge behind me. "Oh yeah," I thought to myself, "and one more thing, you are all so beautiful and I'm feeling pretty darn ugly right about now.
Tears threatened again. I dropped my head bringing a hand to my mouth. My lord, I was about to sob out loud in front of the most beautiful male I have ever seen (in a sea of beautiful males). I was his guest and this was his House, his world, and I didn't belong.
"I think something hot to drink and a little salve will improve your outlook immeasurably." He took me by the elbow, but again, I pulled back. "But my lord, look at me, I am a mess and I'll drip all over the nice rugs and get mud on your chairs..."
"I have seen worse, believe me mistress. Come along now."
The steam went out of with me with a sigh and I let him lead me out of the room and down corridors and paths, back to his study where I had first met him. He sat me down at the big table and went to the large cabinet where he obviously kept his medicinal supplies. The room was brightly lit making it cheerful, Adding to the comfortable scene, was a bouquet of peonies near me, which filled the room with their wonderful scent. I stared at Elrond as he pulled things out, their clink and rattle sounding purposeful and no-nonsense. "Sorry to be such an awkward guest, my lord.
Turning with a smile, he brought over a small tray with a folded cloth, a couple of vials and a little pottery jar with a lid. Setting it down at my side he said, "Do you enjoy mulled wine?"
"Oh yes, I haven't had that in ages." I thought of a particularly good batch I had sampled one Christmas at a friend's house. Wonderful stuff!
He went over to the table close to Malwen's room, where I noticed a small brazier and a metal carafe above it, steaming slightly. He wrapped a napkin around the handle, poured us both a mug and brought them over. Handing me one, I sipped it carefully. Oooh divine! Spicy with a hint of maybe something like vanilla and berries. I had never had anything like it. I wonder if he would give me the recipe. I took several more sips. This was improving my outlook already!
Pouring that dark liquid on one of the folded cloths, he tipped my head up and carefully blotted the ivy burns on my neck. The sting made me pull my head away, but he steadied me with his other hand until he finished. The other hand was very warm. I winced as he cleaned my face and the aching bump on my nose. It was hard not to stare at him, intent on his work. Tears unbidden came again! What a watering pot! No one this ethereal lived in my world. I would never see anyone like this again. Pressing on the bump a bit made my nose ache more. But he was done. Taking the little jar, he dipped some salve out that had a pungent clean scent, like pine, and dabbed the biggest scratches with it, taking a little more to rub into my throat.
"Are you hurt anywhere else?" He looked at me with concern.
"No, ah, just my dignity."
"A hot bath is usually the best restorative for that."
As he went and put away his supplies, I took a few more sips of the hot wine, which finished the mug. Looking in its empty bottom, I saw an Elvish rune in the bottom. Probably the maker, I thought.
"My lord, may I get some more wine?"
"Certainly."
"This is really good. I don't suppose you could give me a recipe for it?"
"I shall be glad to give it to you."
When he finished, he came and sat with me, spending a few moments just looking at me. I returned his steady gaze. This time without tears.
Slowly he spoke. "You are such a puzzle, Marie. It is hard for me to believe you really are from some...when else. And not just a lost, troubled young lady from Bree, perhaps!" (Do you get a lot of 'troubled ladies' from Bree who speak old Dwarvish, I wonder?)
I smiled. "Well, I can assure you I am not from Bree, though I may be troubled. I feel troubled, I guess because to be perfectly truthful my lord, I do not want to leave." I leaned forward with that, to place a placating hand on his knee. "I know I must leave and will. I am just stating for the record I don't want to." I got up slowly (as my "dignity" was mighty sore!) to stretch a bit painfully, the kinks out of my back. "I cannot tell you how surprised I was to hear you and Aragorn speak English! An obscure form of Dwarvish! I guess that means Dwarves and/or their language survive into my Age. And I have no idea really how far from now it is. But pretty far."
"What worries me is that others may travel here and disrupt the flow of things." I walked over to arches where the evening sun was fitfully showing through racing clouds. "You are right to want me gone and out of this river of history. Lord knows what kind of ripple effect I may have here unknowingly. Already."
"But can I tell you my lord, how very grateful I am to have this chance to see something as beautiful as your House? Something," I put my hand on the table and rubbed the wood softly. "I never thought I would ever see or touch or hear. Thank you." I bowed deep, which almost overset me. I swiftly sat with a small groan back in my chair and buried my face in the steaming mug of wine.
Leaning back in his chair, his smile grew, "Marie, I have been in this land for a very, very long time and I have seen many amazing, strange and unusual things. Some I have only heard about and some I have dealt with personally. I will grant you, I have never dealt with a one such as yourself. But having dealt with misplaced gods and lost lands, I find you are a fascinating conundrum, but not unique." He bent forward and put a hand on my knee. "I have given this much thought. I do want you gone Marie, but I will not tie you in a sack and leave you at the roadside because you disturb the tenor of my days." Standing, he pulled me up out of my chair and I placed my mug on the table. "You will return to your own time, but only when that time is right. So," we began to stroll out of his study, "enjoy your stay here. Rivendell will not fall apart because you here. As a matter of fact, I have a task for you, if you are willing."
I perked up at this. All right! Something useful to do! "I would be delighted to help."
"Fingalan. What do you think of him?" Putting his hands behind his back, he looked at me intently as we walked.
"Seriously?" Oh, I was going to have to be careful here.
"Seriously. Speak freely."
"He, ah, is well, arrogant, " I said in a rush, trying not to offend. "I mean, I know a lot of people generally feel elves are arrogant, but he is especially rough-edged and snotty."
Elrond grinned broadly. "'Arrogant and rough-edged,' I think that describes him well." 'Snotty' I do not know that word..."
"A variant on arrogant, but more childish."
"Snotty. Good word!"
"And young. Really young. Like a human male just as he, ah well, gets his first beard."
"Exactly."
I remained silent, watching Elrond out of the corner of my eye. He was looking very thoughtful.
"He is in great need of refinement," he continued slowly. "His father is First Counselor to King Tharanduil of Mirkwood and Fingalan is to be his Second. He needs the skills to handle all kinds of people and situations. His father sent him here to see if I could help smooth the rough edges away. Do you think you could help me with this?"
I started to scratch at my throat, which was feeling tight and kind of itchy, and he carefully pulled my hand away. "Do not touch."
Embarrassed, I nodded quickly, still thinking about what he said, when we reached the arches to my room.
He stopped half way in the room and said, his hands once again behind his back. The soft green robe he wore, glimmered slightly as he moved. "Go on and clean up. I will send for you in an hour's time and then we can have supper and a talk."
"Yes my lord." I bowed slightly and he turned and left.
I ran for the bathroom, pulling off my dirty clothes. I sat on the edge of the tub and yanked my boots off. Unbraiding my hair, I slipped into the warm water with a great sigh of relief and then grimaced as the water stung my various scratches. I guess I was going to have to get a jar of that ointment because I was going to wash it all off now. I sank up to my neck and lay against the warm rocks letting the heat soak all the bruises and bumps away. I wish I had a bath like this at home!
For a moment, I thought of home. My cats! Who was taking care of them? Had I lost my job because I hadn't called in? What was Valarie doing? I stared through the steam. Perhaps time here and time there did not coincide. One could only hope. I smiled slightly, as I carefully washed my face. Don't rush on my account Val!
I spent almost an hour in the bath, and when I got out, I was so sleepy, I wanted to fling myself on the bed, but then I noticed the new dress, a lovely maroon velvet and boots. A smile grew on my face: Wait, I was going to have dinner with Elrond! Wow. How neat!
Idly scratching my throat after I dress, I snatched my hand away. I needed more of that salve. My whole throat was beginning to itch. Perhaps I was allergic to something. Hopefully, not the ointment!
An elf appeared at the arches just as I finished with my hair. She said something in Elvish and bowed slightly. I smiled and joined her. She immediately turned, going down the corridor, only occasionally glancing to see if I was following.
I thought we were going to the previous study, but the elf kept going and then turned down a narrow path of flagstones, overhung with what looked like wisteria in the fading twilight. Smelled heavenly, too. The path was wet and the thick branches overhead dripped on us.
Pulling aside a hanging curtain of the flowering vines, I gasped. A gazebo stood before us, also covered in wisteria. A table set for three, with candles, linen and flowers placed in the center. Elrond rose with a smile and as I sat down, the elf who brought me poured us some wine and then left.
"This is wonderful! Do you always eat out here?"
"When the weather is pleasant, as it is this evening in the rain-washed air."
"I couldn't imagine anything nicer." Pointing to the third setting I asked, "Who is joining us?"
"Since we are to discuss his refinement, Fingalan will share the meal." Just then, two elves appeared and placed a basket of bread and two bowls of soup before us, and in true medieval fashion, there were no spoons. The bowls were a delicate robin's egg blue, cool to the touch, but the soup was hot and lightly flavored, slightly chicken-y and floral. Perfect for a cool evening. And the bread was also light and fluffy. Heaven! And to be sitting across from Elrond! In such a setting! He wore a rose-colored robe with silver braid on the high collar and edging the sleeves.
Nevertheless, I was hungry and it took me a moment to notice Fingalan had entered the gazebo.
"Good evening Lord Elrond," he said politely enough. He nodded to me. "Marie."
"Fingalan." I said and returned to my soup.
We were silent while he was served.
When we were alone, Elrond spoke up. "I hear you and Mistress Marie went riding this afternoon. She said she met up with the 'sentient' poison ivy around the stand of ancient willows by Mallowbriar Stream. I am sorry you were not warned about that earlier. It was fortunate," his half lidded eyes gleamed with candle flames over the edge of his soup bowl, "that you were nearby to come to Marie's assistance. As it is, her throat is quite inflamed."
I coughed for effect and scratched at the itchy dryness. We were sitting close enough that Elrond automatically pulled my hand away.
Fingalan had the grace to look down. And I think he even blushed.
Well, this was a nice change of affairs. From feeling like a dupe for a teenaged elvish prank, to being made the victim of boorish behavior. I felt a lot less like the village idiot.
And then Elrond's words sunk in and I momentarily choked. "Poison" ivy? Ohoh!!! Now I understood the itching. Was this ivy like the stuff where I came from? Did it spread and all...?
As the soup was removed, I popped the last piece of bread in my mouth. A little too quickly and it made me cough. I took a big sip of wine. I guess it was actually mead as it was very honey-flavored. I swallowed harder, frowning slightly. It felt as if my throat was swelling. Oh no, I was having a reaction to the ivy!! I swallowed harder and then gasped, as I could barely breathe, it felt like the ivy strangling me all over again!
Elrond, frowning, stood up and came over to me and I gasped out. "My throat...closing up!" I clawed at my neck, breathing hard. He got me out of my chair and laid me on the wet cobbles of the gazebo, tilting my head back, trying to open my air passage. I clenched one of my hands in the folds of Elrond's robe in panic and squashed damp leaves in the other. I heard Fingalan fling his chair back and his pale face bent next to Elrond's.
"Fingalan, go into the large cabinet in the study and get the vial of laremadon syrup! Hurry!"
I could barely breathe, but catching Elrond's expression, I suddenly realized this had all been set up for Fingalan's benefit. He was actually smiling as he watched Fingalan dash off. He then lay a hand on my throat quickly and I felt a deep warmth. Immediately, my breathing eased considerably.
"Please continue to show distress Marie. The syrup will relieve the itching and prevent any further problems. I am sorry to use you in this fashion, but your reaction needed to be convincing. You were in no real danger. I just wanted to teach Fingalan a lesson and the consequences of his ill-thought escapade. Are you all right now?"
I nodded, breathing deeply. He sat me up and then lifted me from the floor. These elves, they are really strong. Or maybe he works out or something. He rushed me through rooms until we ended up in his study, where I'd been before. He lay me back on the floor again, holding my head up.
Catching the pale face of Fingalan, I started gasping and moaning again. Elrond snapped out angrily, "Fingalan, the syrup please! Quickly, I may lose her!" I know he was kidding but that scared me and I'm not sure I was faking the hyperventilating!
I swallowed the syrup quickly (yucky flavor) and coughed some, and then sighed and closed my eyes. I looked out from under my lashes to see if I needed to do anything more and had to really stop myself from grinning. Fingalan looked dreadful.
"Is there anything else I can do my lord? I did not mean to harm her! I just did not think about the ivy reacting to her. I-I forgot it was like that."
"You need to be more aware of your surroundings, and the people in them. Just because she is not an elf does not mean she is not worthy of regard." Elrond lifted me again. Whew. He was getting his work out tonight! "I shall see her settled in her room. Think about today's events Fingalan."
He whooshed out of the study and down the corridors to my room.
Once we were out of sight of the study doors I said, "You can put me down now. I can walk."
He smiled slightly. "Oh, we must keep up appearances. I am sorry you didn't get your supper either. I shall have a tray sent."
"Thanks. Do you think any of this will sink in?"
Elrond lifted an eyebrow. "One may be permitted to hope for the best. His usefulness to his father may depend on it."
Once in my room, he set me down and went to the bed and flung back the covers, "In with you. Fingalan may feel a spark of remorse and come see how you are doing tonight."
Nodding, I got out of my boots and flung off my dress (a little late for modesty) and hopped in the bed. He flung the quilt back over me and lit a candle by the bed. I stared up at him, the candle causing his eyes to twinkle. "My thanks for your efforts tonight, Marie."
"You are welcome my lord." I tentatively touched my throat. This time, he didn't pull my hand away. "I hope the next lessons devised for Fingalan are not quite so, well, harrowing!" He picked up my hand on the coverlet and gave it a brief squeeze and then, he winked at me as he left! Who would of thought Elrond could be a bit of a cut up?
I lay there thinking, watching the shadows dance on the walls. What an evening! And then I got worried again. But if Elrond was going to use me to straighten out Fingalan, would this, might this cause unforeseen ripples in the events here? I was going to have to be very careful.
Even if this was Elrond's idea, did it necessarily make it a good one?
Oh, lord, this was going to give me a headache and I'd had enough aches and pains for one night. I rolled over.
I lay there and realized I was actually getting sleepy. That food better come soon. Yawning, I rolled over again and stared out at the chuckling fountain. The sound was so soothing. I yawned again. And fluffed up the pillow, and then an elf came into sight and put a tray on the table. And suddenly, my stomach woke up. I was about to fling back the quilt, when the elf came over to me (their way of walking without noise was eerie) and shook his hands in front of me as if to stop me. Quickly retrieving the tray, he balanced it on the bedside table and was going to start feeding me, I think!
I shook my head firmly, sat up and placed the dinner plate in my lap. I waved my erstwhile nurse away and picked up the piece of roasted chicken before me. The elf watched concerned for a moment and then eloquently shrugged and left.
For pete sakes, there was only so far I was going to go with this invalid stuff! They could just assign my rebound to Elrond's healing abilities.
Looking quickly around, I was glad to see I had gotten a carafe of wine with the meal and a goblet. Smiling, I poured myself a glass and took a big swallow. I really wanted to wash the lingering flavor of that syrup out of my mouth. My shoulders sank. It was only fruit juice, something slightly sweet. Certainly not anything alcoholic. Was this in case Fingalan checked my glass?! Sheesh.
I finished my meal, and leaning back in the pillows, I held my goblet and idly stared at the beautiful ivy leaf pattern embossed in its silver sides. Rolling my eyes, I shook my head and placed the goblet carefully on the side table. What was with ivy today? Then I smiled, was Elrond making a small joke here?
Yawning again, I blew out the candle and sank down under the quilt. Rolling over towards the arches of my room that faced out into the corridor because I heard singing, I let my eyes drift shut.
But right before I did, I thought maybe someone was standing in the shadows. But I stared sleepily at the dark form for a minute or two and it didn't move. Mentally shrugging, I rubbed my face, closed my eyes and slept.

When I awoke the next morning, I was startled to see I had an audience.