Chapter One: My Dear Wenny
"I suppose this story starts in the most expected of places, my dear Wenny. That is, as one would assume, the beginning. Not all beginnings are the same, just as not all endings are the same. This one in particular is more uncommon than most, but that is not to say, however, that it is altogether uncommon. Our little story, or big depending on which way you look at it, is not something that you would expect to hear about. For it is not a story of great deeds, or about a great hero, although there are some involved. It is not about those who are powerful and strong, but about those that are quite the opposite. This story is, while unexpected as some would say, entirely expected and extraordinary. It does not deal with anything that is above all great and powerful, but something much more subtle and grand in its own way."
"I don't get it."
Gimli son of Gloin let out a small exasperated sigh. Elves. He looked over at the small elleth, trying his best not to look annoyed at her almost instant interruption. "Lassie, you don't know anything yet. Of course you don't get it."
"What am I trying to get?"
"I am getting there." Gimli said simply, shifting in his cushy armchair. He folded his thick arms over his chest, fixing her with a look that was clearly meant to silence any further questions she had. "Now just hush up for a moment and listen."
He had not intended to be the little elf's personal storyteller when he had decided to come visit Legolas in Mirkwood. He had intended to drink large amounts of ale, amounts that some would consider excessive, and teach the elf prince a thing or two about proper hunting with an axe. Gimli had intended to relax during his visit. He had been traveling between dwarven kingdoms for far longer than he cared to think about, and felt, for not the first time, that he deserved a little time for himself. The relaxation that he had counted on seemed almost impossible the second Legolas' young child had set her eyes upon Gimli, laughing with her father about some joke he wouldn't care to share in polite company.
She had, unfortunately, latched herself onto him so completely and thoroughly it was almost impossible for Gimli to get even a moment's peace without her forcing her company on him in some way or another.
That is not to say that he didn't find himself enjoying her overzealous company. Of course he would never really admit that to anyone. He barely admitted it to himself. He had a reputation to maintain after all.
Liluwen, or Wenny as she preferred to be called much to her parent's chagrin, was more than a little interested in dwarves. She had never seen one before, resulting in an unyielding need to hear stories and tales about the race she knew so little about. It had been admirable at first, and at times flattering to Gimli's already outrageous ego, but he had later found he was running out of tales that would fascinate a child as young as Wenny.
Gimli had just about dried himself out of ideas when Legolas suggested one more final tale before he would relieve the dwarf of his storytelling duties.
The particular story, the one that he was currently struggling to even begin to tell to an impatient Wenny, was one that he had many told many years ago. His father, Gloin, had held it very dear to his heart, only telling his son after many long years had passed since its end. Even then he had struggled to complete it. It had always seemed to cause him pain. Gimli had always been fascinated by it, despite the fact that he considered himself far too old to enjoy fairy tales, and he liked to think over the story when he found himself with free time and on his own.
When Legolas had mentioned it Gimli knew that Wenny would enjoy it as much as Gimli had the first time he had heard it. She had enjoyed all of the other stories he had told her. Why wouldn't she enjoy his personal favorite?
The beginning of this particular story telling session had started out like the majority of the other ones before it. It was raining outside and colder than it had been in the previous months. Wenny hadn't been able to play outside for quite some time, resulting in her listening to Gimli's stories to pass the long hours inside. Wenny had come barreling into Gimli, ignoring the fact that he had been blissfully asleep in one of the many cushy chairs by the warm hearth in the main hall that the royal family occupied. She begged him to tell her yet another one of his 'Dwarvy Fairy Tales.' She had practically shoved him out of the chair in order to get him to comply with her wishes.
Gimli had thought dwarves had the monopoly on stubbornness. Apparently, he had been woefully incorrect.
Wenny had seated herself in front of him, ignoring the tittering from the maids that tended to her as she placed one of her small pale hands on her chin. She had peered up at him expectantly. She had barely let him get out the first sentence before she was cutting across him, much like her mother had a tendency to do, a slight scowl on her childish face.
"I am listening to you, Gimli." Wenny whined, narrowing her large blue eyes considerably. "I just don't understand."
Gimli let out another exasperated sigh. Wenny was far too much like her mother for her own good.
"I haven't explained a thing yet, Lassie." Gimli shifted into the chair even further, moving closer to the fire as he went. "Now stop the squirming and whining and listen to me for a moment."
"But…" Wenny trailed off when she saw the sharp yet good-natured look on the redheaded dwarf's face.
"Now, where was I?" Gimli tapped one of his thick fingers on his beard, thinking back to before the little elf had distracted him with her incessant babbling and badgering. "Ah yes. Are you going to agree to listen without interrupting too much?"
"I can try." Wenny huffed, scooting into a more comfortable position to listen to him better.
"Good. Now this story starts in a place that is, as yer Great Uncle Gloin tells it, entirely unfamiliar and uncharted to most folk of this world…"
Emelia Montgomery was not, as most would assume, entirely enthused about the prospect of going ice fishing with her small family. It had been a weekly actively that she was more than certain she could do without ever again. Spending so much time hunched over the ice, straining her eyes to see the dark blob that indicated a fish, made her feel like she was much older than her eighteen years. It made her bones hurt, ache like she was an old woman, and it made her skin feel like she had just been peeled like a potato.
Her father insisted it was family bonding time as well as being a lucrative business. Her mother insisted it was romantic and scenic out on the deserted lakes. Her brother insisted it was delightfully fun and adventurous. For her part, Emelia insisted it was nothing short of hellish torture.
It just so happened that the Montgomery family was in the fishing business, of all things. They spent most of their time out on the massive ocean just outside their home town or sitting huddled together in little ice fishing tents, trying to find the best catch of the day to sell to the local grocery store or restaurants, or restaurants considering the dismal size of the 'town'. They made their honest living out of fish and her parents, Fred and Hannah, considered it to be a whole family affair.
It was a family affair that unfortunately involved Emelia missing out on going away to college for the foreseeable future.
It was not an intended slight or punishment on her parent's part, nor would she ever assume it was. They were the good sort of people that wanted only the absolute best for their children, and that included education, but they had no means to afford to send her to college on their fisherman salaries. They had promised, repeatedly, that she would get to go when they made enough extra money to afford tuition in a year's time, when the big fishing season came again. Emelia had her doubts, but she kept those miserable thoughts to herself.
The thought of having to endure another frigid season on the ice made Emelia's entire body run cold in a way that the temperature never could.
That morning had been like any other. Her family had piled into the jeep, dutifully ignoring the piercing glares the oldest child as they had driven off to their destination. It wasn't a very far drive, but to Emelia it felt like an eternity. Of course, anything that involved mandatory ice fishing always felt like an eternity.
Her brother, Edward, was more than enthused at the prospect of spending on of his Saturdays on the ice. He was happier than most normal eight year olds should have been, considering the dismal activity that was before them. His enthusiasm made Emelia's mood even worse.
She hated the ice almost as much as she hated the fish.
It seemed so cruel to her that they had to be combined into one day long thoroughfare.
The Montgomerys, or the Monties as some people in the small town of Kessog, Alaska referred to them as, were as liked as they came. Fred Montgomery was older than most of the fathers in town, considering the respective ages of his children, and showed it through his undeniable wisdom. With his shock of red hair and bottle green eyes, he was often taken for being much more childlike and soft than he actually was. He was smart, as most would attest to, and never let a single family go without, even if that meant more often than not sacrificing his own family's creature comforts in the process.
Perhaps that was what attracted Hannah Montgomery to him in the first place. Or perhaps it was the fact that he was, despite his age, still devilishly handsome by most women's standards.
Whatever the reason, Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery had stayed together for far longer than anyone would have expected, and defying all odds, were still sickeningly happy.
Emelia had always liked that about them, even with their over the top public displays of affection. For some reason, however, as they made their way to their ice tent she couldn't help but scowl at their hands intertwined over the center console of their car.
Her brother, as ever unaware as always, hummed in the seat next to her, completely ignoring the dark looks Emelia was throwing about the car.
The family continued in the almost stifling silence until they came to the edge of the perpetually frozen river that the family used for their fishing sight. Edward immediately jumped out of the car, slipping slightly on the ground before bounding over to the side of his father's door. He always was the first to get in the car and the last to want to leave the tent.
Emelia was quite the opposite. She took her sweet time getting out of the car, hating herself just a little bit more when the wind bit across her face and limbs.
Her mother, bless her, had the decency to shoot her a sympathetic look from behind her threadbare scarf before reaching out a gloved hand to pull her along to the red fishing tent.
The tent, or Dante's Inferno, as Emelia liked to refer to it as on her more cynical days, was positioned almost in the middle of the river, standing out fabulously against all the white snow in the background. It was small, as was to be expected, and altogether simple. It was heated, mercifully, and sparsely furnished with various fishing implements and obviously old hand-me-down furniture that her father had found at the only thrift store for a thousand miles.
Emelia knew better than to complain about the less than warm setting. She had done so enough when she was much younger and hadn't accomplished anything. Besides, she was currently in the process of trying to prove to her parents that she was, in fact, mature enough and deserving enough of them sending her to college. She didn't imagine they were very convinced. She tried her best despite the fact that college seemed like such a faraway prospect it was almost horrifyingly laughable.
She threw herself into one of the chairs in the tent as soon as her family had reached it, crossing her arms over her chest in an attempt to keep her body warm. Even though the tent was heated, it still felt like she was slowly freezing to death from the outside in.
"Cheer up, Emmy." Fred Montgomery said loudly, ignoring the blistering wind that was making his voice sound so slight it was almost nonexistent. "We're going to have fish for dinner."
"We always have fish for dinner, Copernicus." Emelia said sinking into her chair even further. He shot her a smirk before walking out of the tent, taking the tools to cut a hole in the ice with him.
"Sassy." Hannah said from her spot over by the front of the tent. "Yet sweet." Her mother winked playfully at her, before turning her attention the boy bouncing up and down beside her excitedly, grabbing her hand and tugging on all the fabric that he could reach. He was pushing his red curls out of his face, only to have them fall back with his enthusiastic movements.
"Yes, Eddy, we know. We're going fishing." Hannah said, bending down to plant a soft kiss on the small boy's forehead. "Now go help your father find a good spot."
Edward immediately bolted out of the tent, slipping slightly on the ice and out of his mother's sight. She let out a small laugh at the sight of him tugging at his father some ways away before she turned back to face her other child still sitting moodily in the family tent. Hannah pulled her hat off, allowing her auburn colored hair to fall around her red tinged ears. She brought her hand up to brush it out of her eyes as she moved across the tent to place herself in a seat across from Emelia.
She smiled at her, in a only a way a mother would know how, instantly sensing the exact reason for her daughter's foul mood.
"I will make you some soup for tonight."
"Fish soup." Emelia said, hating how moody her voice came out. She paused, seeing her mother's serene smile fall ever so slightly at her woods before she backtracked completely. "I'm sorry mom. That was rude wasn't it?"
"Well yes, but it's not like we expect anything else from you." She said, an uncomfortable truth lacing her words.
"Mom!"
"I'm only kidding, Emmy." Hannah said, tucking her short hair behind her ear with her freezing hands.
Emelia opened her mouth to respond, only to be cut off by her brother bounding into the tent, spilling snow from his clothes all over the dirty floor.
"Emmy, there's so many fish. You have to come see." He launched himself into Emelia's lap so suddenly it knocked the wind out of her, leaving her spluttering, somewhat more for dramatic effect for Edward.
Hannah laughed at the sight of her two children, leaning back into her own chair more comfortably. Emelia wrapped her arms around her brother, pulling him closer into her chest. Edward squirmed in her arms, pushing against her body to get out of her tight grasp.
"Yea, alright Eddy, I'll come look at the fish." She pushed him off her lap, sending him to the cold floor of the tent, laughing at the look on his face.
"How very nice of you, Emmy." Hannah said, smiling even wider at Emelia.
Emelia stood up, bowing sarcastically at her mother, before she moved over to the pile of fishing implements that sat haphazardly collected in the corner of the shabby tent. Her family, while not considered the poorest in the small town, didn't have a large amount of extra money to spare in order to buy new fishing equipment as much as they would have liked. The result was tools that were altogether shabby and worn. The hooks weren't as sharp as they used to be and the nets frayed at the ends. Emelia knew better than to mention it to her already stressed out parents.
She dug through them until she found the cold metal of the fishing spear that she always used on her family's outings. The spear had always seemed rather brutal and garish to her, but it got the job done so she ignored her feelings about it.
She threw it over her shoulder, keeping her gaze on her mother so she wouldn't accidently hit her with the tip of the spear. She followed after her overly excited brother with a scowl on her face.
The moment Emelia stepped out of the tent she felt the familiar bite of the wind on her already frozen face. It howled and hacked at her, reminding her vividly of why she wanted out of Kessog, Alaska so badly it was an almost constant pain for her.
She could see her brother crouched down by the ice hole, nudging their father every single time a fish would pass by close enough for him to see. His shock of red hair was shining out against the blank slate of white snow, as was their father's, making it very easy to spot the two of them. Even from her spot across the way from them, she could see that they had already caught a fair amount of fish and placed them in the ice-filled buckets sitting next to them on the ice.
"Emmy, you'll never believe how big a fish I caught." Emelia had to fight the snort of laughter at seeing him slipping across the ice in excitement as he brought her over to the hole that they were using for fishing.
Her father peered up at her as she approached him, daring to her shoot her one of his characteristic smirks. "Be careful of the ice over there, Emelia. It is very thin." He gestured over his shoulder with his thickly gloved hand. "I am not coming in after you."
"That's very sweet." Emelia said, plopping herself down on the frigid ice next to a bouncing Edward. "I wouldn't come in after you either."
"You're moodier than normal." Her father said, turning back to face the fishing pole in front of him. "Am I to assume it's one of those girly problems that only your mother would want to hear about?"
Emelia rolled her eyes, turning her attention away from her smirking father and onto her little brother. Edward was leaning over the edge of the hole, sticking his little hands into the water, ignoring the fact that the water was soaking through and causing his hands to freeze up. He swirled them around, lifting them up occasionally, before sticking them back in. Emelia placed her hand on his back, pulling him back away from the edge ever so slightly.
By the time her mother had finally dragged herself from the tent the other three had been sitting on the ice for what felt like hours. She came shuffling out, holding her arms around her so tight Emelia thought they might fall off. She had brought them snacks at one point before quickly retreating back to the warmth of the tent. Edward had long ago grown bored of watching his father and sister fish and had taken to skipping around on the top of the ice, much to the chagrin of the older members of his family.
"Are you almost ready to go?" Hannah asked, peering into the bucket of caught fish, her eyes watering blearily the entire time. "It will be getting dark soon."
"I think I'm done." Fred said, standing up, shaking the soreness out of his long limbs. "I am sure Eddy is freezing by this point."
Hannah let out a small laugh against the wind, turning away to look for their youngest child. Emelia stood up from her spot on the ice, feeling all of the joints in her body creaking and squeaking with the movement.
"Where is he?" Hannah asked, causing the other two to look around.
"He was…" Fred trailed off, looking around.
"He's over there." Emelia said, pointing over to the small figure playing around not fifty yards away from them.
Hannah suddenly let out a large cry of surprise, gripping her husband's shoulder so tightly Emelia could see the tension through the gloves on her hands. "That's the thin ice, Fred." She immediately started running, not even bothering to look back at the other two.
"That's the thin ice!" Hannah screamed, flapping her arms around in a desperate attempt to get Edward to look over at her.
Emelia and Fred immediately sped off after her, slipping and sliding all over the untouched ice. They left their fishing implements where they had been sitting, leaving them completely forgotten as they ran as fast as they could.
Emelia felt her entire chest constrict when she saw Edward fall through the ice.
Her mother let out a loud scream. Never in her life had she run so fast. She ran faster than her father, which was odd considering the considerable height difference. She had passed by him before she even realized it, before passing up her mother.
She didn't even think before she threw herself in the water after her brother.
The water was so cold it literally turned her entire body to stone when she came in contact with it. It surrounded her entire form so completely it hurt. She felt herself convulse for a moment before she finally managed to get her bearings. She could see her brother, despite the pain in her entire body, grasping at the impossibly cold water. He looked so small flailing about like he was. His hair, which was plastered to his face, stood out famously against the dark water.
She pushed herself towards him, hating how weighed down she was by her thick winter clothes in the water, fighting tooth and nail to get to him before it was too late. She could see him panicking, which made her panic, as he struggled to get back up to the surface.
He looked so small against the never ending blackness of the water.
By the time she had reached him, he didn't acknowledge her arms wrapping around his small body. He bobbed in her arms, weighing her down even more. She pushed her already frozen legs towards what she perceived was the surface.
She had barely broken the top by the time her parents were pulling Edward out of her frozen arms, dragging him onto the ice. She bobbed for a moment, trying to keep herself above the surface before she felt herself sink back under the water, like something was grabbing her around the ankle to yank her back.
Everything was happening much quicker than she would have liked. She had grown up surrounded by the cold. She had fallen through the ice before. Everybody fell through the ice at some point. But those times it was different. Those times she was able to get out, she was able to save herself. Emelia, who had always been a fast swimmer, felt like she couldn't even move her body. The second she had made sure Edward was to the surface, her whole body seized, making it impossible for her to fight the pull beneath her.
It sucked at her, wrapping around her so completely it was painful. Her face hurt, her legs felt like they were broken, her stomach felt like it was filled with tepid, diseased water.
She didn't feel like herself, even though she knew who she was.
The world spun above her head, making her feel like she was having a mental breakdown.
Looking back on it, she should have known something wasn't right. She should have seen the black water lightening around her in her last moments of consciousness. She had enough sense about her, or at least she thought she had had enough sense to know that it wasn't normal for her feet to be pulled like someone was underneath her, yanking her further and further down.
She should have, but she didn't.
She didn't even realize when she had blacked out completely, floating further and further down in the murky wat…
"That makes no sense, Gimli." Wenny said suddenly, causing the dwarf to pause mid-sentence.
"Has anyone ever told you that you ask too many questions?" Gimli said, grumbling slightly at the interruption.
Wenny crossed her arms over her chest at the insult, shooting Gimli a very dark look. It was meant to be intimidating but in all actuality it came off as being rather comical. "You said this story was exciting."
"It is." Gimli said, leaning back into his chair, wondering why he ever attempted to start telling this story to her in the first place. "If you would be quiet long enough for me to tell it you would know that."
Wenny rolled her eyes before scooting herself closer to the fire. Gimli knew her patience was minimal, a trait that he had always admired. It was almost as small as a dwarf's, and almost as biting when it wore out. She was only eight years old, but she already had the attitude of her full grown mother.
"Now, where was I?" Gimli said, stroking his beard. Turing his gaze on the roaring fire that he had been sitting next to for almost the entirety of his visit to the halls of Mirkwood, trying his best to remember the way his father had told him the story so many years ago for the first time.
