Rivendell at LAST! by Elaura
Author's Notes:
IMPORTANT NOTE Do NOT attempt any of the survival techniques or "medical" procedures described in this story. This is a work of FICTION. I am NOT a survivalist, I have no formal medical training and I am NOT a nutritionist.
It was pretty obvious Lindir and Arwen had no intention of hanging out at the ford so I started looking around on the ground to make sure I wasn't leaving anything behind. The water skin was gone from where I had left it; I supposed it went with its owner. I found my pile of berries and although I didn't think I would be needing them anymore, my curiosity about them was piqued so I gathered them up and wrapped them in my wet "towel" and stuffed the little bundle back into my pocket. Without speaking, Arwen began walking into the forest and Lindir gestured for me to fall in behind her. My clothes were clinging to me wetly and my feet were going "squish-squish" as we entered the forest. It was only a little misty by this time and although I was moving as quietly as I could, in comparison to the elves I was tromping through the forest like a drunken dwarf. I stumbled over tree-roots and got painfully smacked in the face by low-hanging branches. Several times, Lindir had to catch me before I landed flat on my ass after tripping over something. I began to sink back into my mind, watching and listening. My brain picked these quiet, lonely times to relinquish drips and drabs of Tolkien's books. This land is very different than how it was described in The Hobbit. This area used to be like the wasteland I was in a few days ago, when the rocky hills were still visible behind me. Bilbo described it as flat and rocky and boggy with gullies and deep ravines. Now the forest reaches almost to the very banks of the Bruinen and even to the other side. Of course, it's been something like 80 years since Bilbo traveled this way with the dwarves. I guess a lot can happen in 80 years.
I began to feel melancholy. Arwen was so beautiful and the other elves I had met so far were like Greek gods. They reminded me of the portraits of the proud Native Americans that had always adorned my childhood home. My family had a strong connection with Native Americans and one of my great-grandmothers was actually full-blooded Delaware-Cherokee. The elves' long, straight, shining hair, their strong, elegant features, their determination to do what was right and their inherent "oneness" with nature were all reminiscent of the noble tribes of the Americas. The elves' skin tone was lighter in general; however, Glorfindel definitely had a tan. Their clothing and the fact they carried swords was in contrast to what I knew of Native Americans, but their use of leather and their bows and arrows and knives (though thinner and more graceful than those of the Native Americans) cemented the connection in my mind.
Arwen was the first female I had met and her clothing was different. She wore a light dress with deep blue bodice and pale blue chiffon sleeves that flowed down her sides like an ethereal mist. Lindir was dressed much as the twins and Glorfindel, but his trousers and tunic were of a heavy green cloth and his shirt was pale green. They both wore cloaks, and swords and knives on their belts, but neither had bows or bracers. Arwen's hair was black and braided like her brothers' and her eyes were nearly violet. Lindir's hair was silver and loose and his eyes were a deep, expressive grey.
The forest around us felt young and fresh. Yellow pine needles and moss covered the ground and here and there were patches of tiny flowers where the sun probably peeked through the treetops in clear weather. Suddenly, I was aware of the sounds of wildlife. Something I hadn't heard much of since I landed in Middle Earth. There were birds flitting from tree to tree and buzzing insects. When I turned to look, they were always just on the corners of my peripheral vision, but they were there just the same. A few times I thought I caught sight of a cotton tail hopping away or heard the sound of light deer hooves bounding off. They are probably coming to see the elves and when they see me they run away. I thought and sighed. I didn't realize it at the time, but after three days without my Zoloft I was probably spiraling into a rebound depression. My next thoughts made me positively morose :
I am alone. I am in a strange land in terrible times. Even though the events I have knowledge of have not yet occurred, now I realize that I will never see the Shire before it was scoured. I will never see Boromir with his father and brother in their fair city. I will never meet Frodo before he was touched by the evil blade of the Witch King. It's true that in my world, I never knew a time without war, but now, as far from home as I could possibly be, I know what I have lost because of it. I will never see the hobbits as they were before they set out on their quest. I feel in the depths of my soul the pain those tender hearts will have to bear. Even if all goes exactly as Tolkien wrote it, I'll never see this land as it once was . . . untouched by evil. The elves are already diminishing; the men of Númenór will never recover their lost grandeur. I know that Gandalf will fall in front of those who love him most. I know that Boromir will be tempted by the ring and only find his salvation in death. I know that Pippin and Merry, barely out of childhood when this adventure began, will be whipped and tortured and transformed by their ordeal. I know that Gimli will learn to love those he cannot save and fall in love with one he can never have. I know that Legolas will, before this land sees another summer, lose his peace in the land of his birth and will be tormented by it for years. I know that Éowyn and Éomer will lose both their beloved cousin and the only father they ever knew. I know that Faramir will lose his brother on a quest that should have been his own and that his father will resent him for simply surviving and then commit suicide. I know that Arwen will be forced to choose between her father and her husband. I know that Frodo and Sam will go through a greater hell than Dante could ever have dreamed and in the end, they will still be separated. I know that Aragorn, who bore the weight of his ancestors' guilt, will forever be burdened with the events of these dark days. Someday soon I'll have to face them all. Someday soon, I'll have to share my burden of knowledge with Gandalf. He'll hear my words and maybe even find hope in them, that darkness will not cover his beloved Middle Earth, but I find little gladness in it. I know that I'll meet people who will be dead before the Dark Lord is destroyed. Do I protect my heart and stay aloof, or do I embrace them with tears in my eyes and the weight of their doom on my heart? My guilt will even be worse than Aragorn's because he'll do what he has to and I must allow this evil to come to pass because I'm afraid that by attempting to change it, I would bring doom to them all. "The curse of the Mary Sue," I mumbled softly to myself and sniffled.
Arwen stopped and turned to look at me. She saw the tears in my eyes and I looked down. We stood there in awkward silence for a few moments when my stomach growled so loudly it seemed to echo. I looked up sheepishly and Arwen grinned. Lindir snickered behind me. I was embarrassed, but thanked the Valar for breaking the tension.
"My apologies. Elrohir told me you rode all night and had not eaten. You must be tired and hungry. Let us sit and rest a while." Arwen spoke quietly and gestured for me to sit.
"Actually, I'm really quite thirsty," I replied and felt an odd sore spot on my back as I sat down. Where the hell did THAT bruise come from? Oh shit, that's right where the water skin was resting. It must've been between me and Elrohir all night. God, that had to be
uncomfortable for him! "Arwen, what is the Elvish phrase for 'I'm sorry?' I have a feeling I'll be needing that one frequently."
"'Amin hiraetha.' Why do you think you will need to apologize?" she asked as she took a bundle from the pack she had been carrying and unwrapped it.
"Oh, just a feeling I have. Please tell me you have something other than trail mix in that."
"I do not know what 'trail mix' is, but I have bread and cheese. We packed only enough for a day's journey when we received word that Elrohir was bringing you to the ford. My father, Elrond, Lord of Rivendell, is very interested in how you came to be unescorted on the road with no weapons."
"Believe me, my Lady, I'd love to know how that happened, too." She looked puzzled and handed me a piece of bread and a hunk of creamy yellow cheese.
Lindir held out a water skin to me and said, "Be careful with this, Little One. It is a very strong wine. It will strengthen you, but if you drink too much, we will have to carry you all the way to Rivendell." He had a very heavy accent and spoke more quickly than Arwen. I stared at him blankly as I tried to sort out what he'd said.
"Oh, you mean I'll get drunk?" I asked as I took the skin. "As much as I'd like to get bombed right now, I think I'll take your advice. Hannon le."
"You are welcome, Little One," he replied with a grin. "That is what I meant. What does 'get bombed' mean?"
"It means to get so drunk you can't remember your name or where you parked your, um, horse."
"I see. This would be desirable to you?" He was speaking slower now and with a tone similar to how a person might talk to an idiot or a child, or a child idiot.
"On second thought, no, not really," I lied as I uncorked the skin and took a small sip. "MMMmmm, this is very good. I can tell it's pretty strong." It tasted like a full-bodied red, something like a pinot noir, but I never actually saw it. I ate the proffered bread and cheese. They were soft and light although the flavor was mild and because of my broken nose I couldn't really taste it. I remembered the berries and pulled the cloth out of my pocket and unwrapped it. "Arwen, what are these and why does everybody seem to laugh when they see them?" I asked as I showed them to her.
Arwen blushed and giggled musically, but did not answer my question. Instead, she stood up and began to repack the rest of the food.
I looked at Lindir who was having trouble stifling a laugh. "Well, will YOU tell me what they are? Are they dangerous?"
"They can be, Little One. But not for you. Where did you find them?" He asked.
Arwen shot him a glance and was obviously on the verge of laughing herself silly when Lindir stood straight up with a look of complete innocence and exclaimed, "Not for ME, my Lady! I was merely asking for a . . . friend."
"Of course, Lindir." She replied and said, "We should continue our journey. I would like to make it home before supper." She turned and her shoulders shook as if she was giggling again, but I heard nothing.
I was completely confused. I put the bundle of berries back in my pocket, determined now to get an answer, and stood up, brushing crumbs off my chest. I took a final swig of the wine and handed the skin back to Lindir reluctantly. He took a surreptitious gulp and slung it back over his shoulder, looking at Arwen. "I will never hear the end of this, will I my Lady?"
"I will be the soul of discretion, Lindir," she replied and suddenly I could hear Gandalf in my mind: "Valleys have ears, and some elves have over merry tongues." I felt very sorry for Lindir, even though I had no clue why.
I looked down at the ground and saw a white, moss-covered rock near where I had been sitting. I wracked my brain to remember what the significance of the white rock was. Come on brain! Throw me a crumb . . . crumbs? Breadcrumbs? OH! The white rocks mark the path to Rivendell! Only my brain could connect Hansel and Gretel with Middle Earth! I decided to keep my eyes peeled for more white stones, but I never saw another one. Thank God Arwen and Lindir know where we're going. I would be lost in a heartbeat. Bilbo did imply that if you didn't know exactly where Rivendell was you could look forever and not find it. Fortified by the wine and the rest, I was able to keep going. I wasn't really tired since I had slept as we rode last night, but my head still ached, my nose still throbbed and my joints and muscles constantly reminded me of what lousy shape I was in. I was getting used to the trek, though. I stumbled much less often and Lindir only had to steady me once before we finally broke through the forest and stood on the edge of a steep ridge.
"Oh, it's even more beautiful than Tolkien described it!" I gasped as I looked out over the valley of Rivendell.
"Tolkien? I do not recognize that name. Do you, Lindir?" Arwen asked.
"No, my Lady. Perhaps Lord Elrond may know it, but I have never heard him speak the name." Lindir then spoke to me, "Who is this Tolkien?"
"Um, he was a great writer where I come from. He wrote extensively about Middle Earth's peoples and history." I replied, wondering what cats I was going to have to herd back into the bag.
"Where exactly DO you come from?" Lindir asked and raised his eyebrows.
Do all elves do that or is it specific to Rivendell elves? Now what do I say? I prayed for a plot bunny to jump out of nowhere and save me from the one question I had been dreading since I arrived in Middle Earth, but nothing happened and the pause was lengthening. "I would like to discuss that with Mithrandir, first. It's hard to explain and I think he's the only one who might understand. Will you accept that I come from a land very, very far away?"
"We shall have to accept it, if it is all the explanation you are willing to give," replied Arwen but then added, "but I must know for the safety of Rivendell, do your people ally themselves with any of the forces of Mordor?"
"Honestly, my Lady, as far as I know, I am the only one of my people in Middle Earth. I am most definitely not allied with the Dark Lord. If I had the weapons of my homeland, I would 'deploy, engage and destroy' him myself. As it is, I just want to live through another day."
Lindir then put his hand gently on my shoulder, I flinched because of my sunburn and he instantly took it away. "I am sorry to hear that you are alone. Your people must have been great indeed for you to believe that you could take on Sauron all by yourself." He said.
I thought about tanks and guns and ballistic missiles and replied with a touch of anger, "Great and terrible, Lindir." I looked down the ridge and said, "Am I going to be able to get down there?" hoping to change the subject.
"You will as long as you stay between us," Arwen replied lightly. I could tell she sensed my unease.
I took one last, long look at the valley. The sun had finally broken through the clouds; even though it was now well past noon, the valley was bathed in light. A stream meandered along far below me. The trees were green and the air felt as fresh as spring though I knew it had to be fall. There were glades of lush grass and wildflowers and paths of white running in all directions. Arwen began the long zig-zag path and I followed her with Lindir behind me as before. As we descended, the air began to feel warmer. Although I kept my head down most of the way to keep from falling, I noticed the pine forest we had been walking through gave way to hardwoods at the lower elevations. The sun began slipping behind the ridge and the near end of the valley was falling into dusk as we reached the bottom. There was a lovely wooden bridge spanning the stream I had seen from on top of the ridge and wildflowers of every color were closing their petals for the night. I found myself listening to the trees singing . . . Don't be silly. You can't hear trees, that must be elves! As I thought this, I looked out onto the field we had come to and saw a gathering of elves nearby.
"Would you like to rest here while I speak with my kinsmen?" Arwen asked.
"Yes, thank you," I replied and sat down right where I was. Lindir offered me the wineskin again and I took a couple sips and handed it back to him. He watched me closely until I finished, then he took a sip himself, corked it and walked over to the group of elves.
He has no intention of carrying me and I don't blame him. I lay down on the soft grass intending to watch the clouds and quickly fell asleep.