AN: Oh deary me... I feel like I've been slacking in my writing, honestly I wrote this chapter ages ago, and have written up to chapter ten of this story, I just havent written any new chapters. For any of my stories. Though I have had new story ideas.
Disclaimer: I do not own a thing.
Enjoy~
She loved the library, it was very Hermione of her to choose the library out of all of the places in Rivendell, but it was beautiful. The shelves had been made from the whitest wood she had ever seen and beautifully carved, the books bound by horse hair, heavy and fragile. The seat she often chose was a window seat, nestled away in the corner of the library and overlooking the main courtyard. It was her little haven and only Gandalf or Elrond disturbed her there. The latter turned out to be a great conversationalist, they traded war stories and healing tips. She told him of the stars of home and in return he told her of Elbereth, the Star-Queen. Elrond was fascinated by the technology of her world, and mused on why her magic wasn't compatible with it.
She smiled as she turned a page of the book she was reading – medical herbs of Middle-Earth she found the Athelas plant a rather useful tool to have – it was written in Elvish and as such was a slow read. Perhaps I should ask Elrond for some before we leave, she thought, turning the page and moving on to the section of curing fevers.
"Oh, so this how the friend of our sister spends her day?"
"To think Arwen painted such a pretty picture about our dear world traveller."
"Tis a shame really… to think Arwen lied to us…"
"What is this world coming to brother?"
"I've no idea brother." They both sighed overly dramatically. Elladan picked up her feet, sitting on the bench before draping them over his lap, his brother Elrohir stood to her side, peering over her shoulder at the book.
"Elladan, Elrohir, it's a pleasure to meet you both. Arwen sang your praises." She told them, not bothering to look up from her book as she continued to read.
"Come now fair lady, put the book away lest you hurt our feelings."
"We've wished to play with you since father told us of your arrival."
"Play with me how?" she asked wearily, finally looking up from her book. The brothers were handsome, dark hair and dark eyes with sculpted features. Their eyes held mischief but beneath that there was a sadness, a terrible sadness paired with an unquenchable anger. She shivered and hoped she would never be on the receiving end of that anger.
"Well in one of her many letters, Arwen wrote about how you turned a certain Marchwarden's hair bright pink."
"So we got to thinking about how now would be a perfect opportunity for some mischief."
"How is now a perfect opportunity?" she asked, smiling at the memory of the enraged Haldir with bright pink hair demanding retribution for the disgrace she had caused him.
"There are thirteen dwarves present."
"And my brother and I feel as though they could do with some lightening up."
"Particularly their leader."
"In case you hadn't noticed," she began with an eyebrow raised, "I am to travel with them for the foreseeable future. It isn't really wise for me to antagonise them."
"So you're not going to help us?"
"That is a disappointment."
"Now I didn't say that," she leant forwards a smirk on her face, "I feel it would be remiss of me to not give the dwarves, as you say, a good dose of lightening up."
"We knew you wouldn't disappoint us." Elladan smirked, while Elrohir gave her a positively sinful smile.
The following day the trio, or what would later go down in history as The Troublesome Trio, plotted their schemes. It took a few days for it to be pulled off, for what they wanted Amethyst needed to brew a potion for, and she needed to work out what to substitute for what. Naturally some of the ingredients found in her home differed here, but she was nothing if not adaptable. The twins procured the items she needed and, in a secret passageway, she brewed the potion required. Feeling nostalgic she told the twins of the Polyjuice Potion they brewed in her second year and of Hermione's rather unfortunate accident, though she couldn't say spending the afternoon looking like Pansy Parkinson was a stroll in the park either. They stole some pots from the kitchen and, when the potion was done, poured to solution into them and enchanted them to look just like the ones used in the bath house. The twins placed them in the male bath house just before the dwarves entered and now all they had to do was wait. When all thirteen dwarves, Amethyst had told Bilbo of the plan not wanting to prank her friend, left the bath house they smelled like a pretty elf maid and looked the part too.
The potion was a mild transfiguration that turned the recipient into what the maker wanted, it only lasted a few short hours. One of Fred and George's more ingenious potions.
The dwarves were beside themselves trying to figure out what had been done to them, though Fili and Kili were the only ones to take it in their stride. Making some rather lewd remarks about their newly acquired breasts. The Troublesome Trio were beside themselves with laughter and quickly had to leave lest they give themselves away.
"I saw what you did," Bilbo told them that night, a smile on his face though he was twitching nervously, "I'm glad it wore off though, I couldn't look at them for more than a moment without laughing."
"Of course," she responded, "I'd never make anything too permanent."
"Though we wanted to make the change permanent," Elrohir said cheerfully.
"You! You did this!? I should have known this was the doing of the elves," Thorin's angry voice washed over them, he was stood at the end of the hallway with Dwalin, though he was soon marching down it. "And you!" he pointed angrily at Amethyst, "how could you do this? And you Halfling? You knew of this and did nothing? How dare you turn on the Company and side with the elves?"
"It was just a harmless prank," she defended, taking a step back at the force of his anger.
"Leave her alone dwarf," Elladan sneered, both him and his brother stepping protectively in front of Amethyst and Bilbo.
"Stay out of this elf," Dwalin sneered, "why don't you and your brother go shag those trees you're so fond off."
"Hey now, there's no need-" she began only to be cut off by Elrohir.
"Go crawl back to the mountain you spawned from."
Thus began the heated slinging match of words in their own language, not able to understand Khuzdul meant Amethyst was only privy to half the conversation. But she knew enough to know they weren't discussing their favourite colours.
"Your mother was a whore," Thorin finally snapped at the two in the common tongue.
It was not Elladan or Elrohir that responded to the insult, for they had gone stiff with a righteous fury, it was Amethyst. She stepped forwards, her hand raised and slapped the stubborn dwarf across the face. "That was too far Thorin," she said quietly for she knew what happened to their mother, "no matter what you are arguing about you never bring others into it like that. Never. Apologise to them."
"Once again you side with the elves," he said quietly, sneering at her.
"Don't Amethyst," Elladan said, holding onto her wrist when she opened her mouth to speak, "the dwarf will not apologise so leave it." He dropped her wrist, gave her a pained smile, and left with his brother, leaving behind an awkward silence.
"You saw your grandfather beheaded by Azog," she said finally, her eyes downcast, "you know the evil of Orcs. Their mother was captured by orcs, tortured and raped by them, the twins were the ones to find her. Lord Elrond healed her body but her mind was broken, she sailed west and left them behind… it was just a bit of harmless fun Thorin. That's all." She turned and began walking down the hallway, the same way the twins had gone, but when she reached the end she turned back around. It was only Bilbo that saw the disappointment and tears in her eyes. "You are a spiteful dwarf Thorin Oakenshield, you care little for anything else beyond your kin, and because of that I fear what kind of king you will be. They say greatness and madness are two sides of the same coin. Your coin is spinning Thorin and only you can determine which way it will land."
Thorin later apologised to the twins, begrudgingly as it was, for he realised Amethyst was right his comment was spiteful and unnecessary. If he was ever going to be a good king he needed to be less petty and pick his battles wisely, arguing with the twins over a stupid prank was not wise even if they were of the race he so despised. Though Dwalin joked he only did it to please Amethyst and perhaps he did, not that any could blame him, she was beautiful inside and out enough to make any male of any race fall over themselves to please her.
But she wasn't vain or materialistic.
Perhaps that was why his grandfather's words came back to him, a memory of standing before the piles of gold and listening to Thror tell him of the Hope of Middle Earth. "She will come to you Thorin, when you need her most, she will come. Her beauty and soul worth far more than any treasure here, even that of the Arkenstone, and she will be yours. She will bring Middle Earth into a new age; the Age of Dwarves. Your children shall be beautiful and powerful, none shall dare to mock them, not even Thranduil. She is yours Thorin. Yours." Thror's words had haunted him for a long time and true to his words, she appeared before the most important quest in his life, and because of that he believed in the rest of his grandfather's words. That she will be his queen.
But he was slowly beginning to realise that Thror's words were wrong. Amethyst was from a world where women were independent, able to do things for themselves and even rise above men, as unthinkable as that was. She would not bow to his will so easily, not if she thought he was being unreasonable, her knowledge and way of living was far beyond that of a dwarf. She walked in sunlight and starlight and he walked in the shadows of a mountain. With a growing dread he realised why he was so angry with the thoughts of her being around the twins. She was comfortable with them because they were like her. Elves allowed their females the freedom to choose what they want, their knowledge in all things was vast and they even had some form of magic.
Amethyst might not end up being his queen but he would be damned before he saw her wed to a pointy eared ponce.
She stood before a painting, the artwork of the elves spoke a thousand words that Shakespeare would envy, but this particular piece called to her. A siren amidst splendid beauties. She felt a sense of recognition and it grew the more she stared at it. A dark and menacing figure stood, looming over a man – a human, she noted with surprise – a gold band glowed ominously around the finger of the dark figure. The more she stared the more it seemed to come to life, sounds of swords clashing and screams of death, a horrible hissing – a guttural version of the Common Tongue, as though the one speaking wasn't used to such a language. Smoke filled her nostrils and she felt hot, ash fell from the sky.
"Tis a depiction of the War of the Last Alliance, the moment Isildur cut the Ring from the Dark Lord Sauron's finger."
The words startled her from her vision and turned to face her companion and had to blink to clear the image before her. Her magic seemed to glow under the light of the elf that had approached. Her mind rapidly tried to think of something to say, but it could only compare the light before her to the sun. Even that did the elf no justice. His aura spoke only of goodness and he was old, though he looked young, as all elves did, but there was a lightness in his eyes. He cared for all life, he appreciated life in a way elves didn't. They took for granted their immortality. With a startling realisation she knew this elf had experienced death.
"The day Sauron was defeated was a joyous occasion," he continued on, as though he didn't notice her dumbfounded expression. "Ridding the world of such malicious evil once and for all." He smiled down at her before jumping over the railing that separated them, he landed gracefully.
"Stairs too mainstream for you?" she found herself asked sardonically, her eyebrow raised and light smirk on her face.
"Life is too short for such distractions as steps," he responded airily, "I say we should take risks, enjoy life to the fullest. Jump."
"That's a grand philosophy to live by, though I would never expect it to come from an elf," Amethyst peered at him closely. "But then I'd expect it from one who knows death."
"Perceptive little human aren't you? Yes, I have seen death and returned from the Halls of Mandos, but then, so have you." His smile seemed to widen, finding her to be a curious entity and Glorfindel was nothing if not a curious being.
"I'm afraid I didn't see Mandos, nor enter his Halls, though I did die."
"Then how did you return? If not by the will of gods?"
"I caught a train," she laughed knowing full well that her companion would not be able to understand the amusement. A glint of painted gold caught her eyes and she instantly sobered up. "Sauron is not dead," she had no idea what possessed her to say it, but as soon as she spoke the words she knew them to be true. "He has only been biding his time," like Voldemort had done. Dark Lords can be patient when it comes to world domination.
"You are correct… but then I'd expect nothing less from the Hope of Prophecy."
"I prefer to be called Amethyst," she told him with a grimace.
"As you wish," he nodded his head towards her, "I am Glorfindel."
"How did you know Sauron had not been completely defeated?" she asked him curiously, her head tilting to the side – a habit she had when curious.
"The Ring," Glorfindel told her simply with a shrug of his shoulders. "Come, let us leave this conversation of Dark Lords behind and speak of happier things."
"Like what?"
"I propose we discuss how it was exactly that you managed to change the gender of our dwarven company?" The glint in his eyes, the one that every prankster sees and acknowledges, had her revealing how. The Troublesome Trio had gained an honorary member.
In Amethyst's opinion their stay in Imladris was a nice break from thinking about the dragon at the end of their quest. But as with all good things it must come to an end. Gandalf had managed to persuade Thorin to let Elrond take a look at the map.
They stood around a crystalline dais behind the waterfall, waiting for the moon to appear from behind the clouds, Elrond stood before the dais the map spread across it. As the moon slowly peeked its pale face from the clouds ancient runes become visible on the map, and Elrond translated them out loud. "Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks, and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the keyhole."
This of course led to Elrond discovering their true purpose in reclaiming Erebor, he wasn't happy that much was clear. Amethyst could empathise with him, she knew how dangerous dragons were and with the evil that was beginning to stir it became even more so. Thorin would never turn back though, the only thing they could do was help. It was Gandalf that had to answer for the quest in the Council, Amethyst knew, just as she knew when Galadriel stepped into Rivendell. The Lady of Light always held a special aura around her, an aura Amethyst could feel from a mile away.
It was Gandalf who told her and Thorin of the plan, he would attend this council and they would leave. Amethyst would cloak them in her magic to prevent their detection. It would be easy, but no one must know, and it grieved to leave without saying goodbye to Elrond, his sons and Glorfindel. She could only hope they'd understand. Gandalf would join them once he had finished with the Council. They packed that night, and by morning they were leaving the valley behind.
A/N: I feel like this was a filler chapter... ... I liked writing Glorfindel though, and of course Elladan and Elrohir.
I will post the next chapter soon, it's a rather interesting one that features a bored Amethyst making friends with a tree and a bird.
I've also been contemplating writing a Game of Thrones story featuring a femharry... what do you think of that? Should I?
Please Review.