((I believe I have corrected everything in this chapter. If, by some chance, I didn't, oh well. I'm not about to get killed by some of you who haven't read the first version of this chapter XD as much as I love the enthusiasm!
Okay, so, Take 2 on Chapter 7!))
Many hours later, Heather woke up to soft candlelight and a chilly breeze. It was dark and peaceful with the aroma of fresh flowers and the sound of a distance waterfall and trickling stream. Her back was laying on top of silk sheets and a plumb mattress. Her muscles were relaxed and at ease; almost as if she was floating. Heather glanced around the room. There were a pleasant view of the waterfall between the small pillars and vines. The light from the moon was gliding through the windowless room and aided in lighting up the room. Heather stretched her arms forward, but was interrupted by a sharp pain in her right shoulder.
"Oh damn," she muttered quite loudly because she thought that she was alone.
"Be careful," a lovely voice told her. Quickly, Heather spot the source of the voice. A tall, elegant woman was near the wooden and was somehow hidden in the dark, although she was particularly glowing. "Although I was successful in removing the arrow head, your muscles must recuperate." The woman was wearing the whitest silk Heather had ever seen and had long hair that nearly touched the ground. Her facial features were soft and a pleasure to look at; she could've sworn she was an actual angel.
The goddess-like woman glided across the room with light steps and stood next to Heather's plush bed. "I am pleased to see that you are awake so soon."
"Soon? How long was I out?"
She took a quiet deep breath and slowly released it. "Your chase from the wargs and orcs had left your body weak once the poison was introduced into your blood, it quickly spread to the rest of your body."
"Oh," Heather changed her gaze from the woman to straight ahead of her. She felt as though she should be dead. How am I still alive?
"Because," the woman answered, as if she heard Heather's thoughts, "The owner of this house and I used our remedies to revive you and exfoliate the deadly toxic from your veins. It was the request of your traveling companions."
"The dwarves!" she gasped, truly surprised that they weren't crowding her room as she slept; too worried to sleep themselves. "Where are they?!" She sat up and looked around again, as if she didn't know that they were alone. Though the dwarves may seem obsessed with gold and priceless gems, she knew they cared about her, to a lesser extent.
Another soft sigh was released from the elegant woman. "They have left."
"Left? Why?"
She was silent and avoided Heather's eyes for a moment. Her hesitation scared Heather of all the "what-if's." However, she did answer her, but continued to avoid her concerned eyes.
"Elrond, the house owner, had asked them to do so, in exchange of cleansing you of the orc's poison."
"What? Bu-but-" Heather was devastated. How could they leave her? Why would this woman's friend force them to chose her life over them continuing their journey? That didn't make any sense to Heather. "May I speak with him, Elrond?" Heather asked, trying to regain her emotions before the fact that she was completely alone, again, has sunk into her mindset. She was afraid that she said her host's name incorrectly, so she decided to not butcher his name again.
"Yes, in fact, he wanted to talk to you as soon as you were able. However, I wish for you to sleep until morning, so you can-"
"No, I insist! I must speak with him right now, unless he is sleeping," Heather nearly demanded; she was rushing her words that she didn't seem to catch the eagerness in her voice until she thought she was being rude, then corrected herself. "I'm sorry, but I-"
"Please, there is nothing to be apologetic about. You may see him tonight, but please, do not push yourself for the sake of those dwarves."
The woman gently nodded and turned to walk away. Heather felt a little bad for displaying a sense of ungrateful to the people who had saved her life. Swallowing her weariness of a quick moment, she piped up the courage to call after the elegant woman. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name. I'm Heather Baggins." Heather didn't want any one creature, elf, wizard, dwarf, or hobbit, to have any different title for her; so she kept with Mr. Baggins' sir name as her own.
The woman reached the wooden door and glanced over her shoulder. She had a pretty smile on her face as she held the handle of the door. "No, you're Heather Kenyon." Heather's mouth dropped open when the woman said her real name. Before she could question the woman, she continued, "I am Lady Galadriel" she left the room before Heather could bring herself to ask how she knew her true name and if she told the dwarves.
Heather had this theory that if her legs weren't broken, she shouldn't be laying in bed. So, since her shoulder was the only injured part of her, she jumped out of the plush bed and on the refreshingly cold granite. While she was asleep, someone had changed her clothes; she was no longer wearing her jeans and t-shirt. A white nightshirt, long enough to cover her knees, was covering her body. Long sleeves were wrapped around her arms but only a sling held her right arm up to provide resistance for her injured shoulder.
Taking a moment to be a ease, she stared blankly out the giant gaps in the wall to bask in the beauty of the area. Houses were blended into the mountain side and infused one another. If she didn't know better, she would guess that it was just one enormous mansion with countless rooms for an entire race. She marveled at everything she saw; the waterfall, the vines growing up the pillars and walls, the simple marble stationary towers, the color or the night sky, the moon, each star, and especially the multiple dimensions this magnifest building must have come from. If it wasn't for the throbbing pain in her shoulder, Heather could have easily believed it was a dream.
Sooner rather than later, the wooden door behind her opened and revealed a stern looking fellow. He had defined eyebrows and a pair of eyes that seemed to pierce into anyone's soul. However, his sharp features was accompanied by an aura of concern and peace. Heather quickly got the same impression from him that she got from Thorin; don't piss him off.
"I see you are fit enough to walk," he said while closing the door.
"Yes, I am eager to meet up with my companions."
"I'm afraid I can't let you do that," he replied, lightly shaking his head. They stood on different sides of the room. "I do not want to be responsible for such a being, as yourself, for being horribly slaughtered by a dragon or by the greed of those dwarves." The way he emphasized that made Heather feel uneasy. "Your death would be most painful for many for people than you realize."
"I know a lot of people would mourn my death, but I doubt a dragon will kill me."
"Did you not read the contract you signed in place of Mr. Baggins?"
"I read enough to know that those dwarves, my friends, need my help."
"I can assure you that there are many more thieves out there they can seek assistance from. You are far more important than you understand."
"Please, Mr.." Heather made a hand gesture as if silent asking for his name, because she was afraid of mispronouncing it.
"Elrond," he nodded his name to her. "There is no 'Mr."
"Elrond," Heather muttered to herself, to make sure she didn't mispronounce it. "Please, I want to help them. They have already protected me from-"
"Nothing." Elrond said fiercely. "You were already nearly eaten by trolls and a dipped arrow has within inches of your head. I doubt those inexperienced dwarves could protect you from anything."
Ouch, that's harsh. Thinking quickly on her feet, because that's what thieves do, Heather prayed that this was a valid argument. "Although, I saved those inexperienced dwarves from those trolls. I must stand some sort of chance against a dragon."
"Dragons are much more clever and speak indirectly. They are much more powerful and dangerous than trolls. What little chance you had towards the trolls is absolutely forfeit towards a dragon."
"Why do you think a dragon is going to appear with this journey of these dwarves?
Elrond sighed a loud sigh and shook his head. He took a few steps and held his hands behind his back as he spoke. "Clearly you are from a different world, or The Shire has very sheltered views and truly only dwell upon itself. At the end of your journey, Thorin's journey," he corrected, because he really wanted Heather to stay here, "A dragon is waiting. Sleeping, at the Lonely Mountain, he is guarding Thorin's grandfather's horde of gold. That is what they are truly after; an endless surplus of gold."
"They aren't looking to regain their home, with unlimited gold as a bonus?" Heather was very skeptical about the dwarves greed.
"I know what they are after and unfortunately it is just to regain ownership of Thror's legendary gold and treasure."
"I highly doubt that anyone can be that greedy for anything," Except maybe sex, Heather thought as she was reminded of her mother's situation back in her world. Her mother wasn't a pervert or a street girl willing to do anything for sex; in fact, she was a victim of a rapist. "Most people are concerned with other things, like relationships and acquiring their dream career; not becoming rich."
Elrond shook his head and joined Heather right inside of the large display of the scenery. He remained silent before replying to Heather's statement.
"It doesn't matter now," he said, with strange confidence, "You're companions, friends, have left you here."
"Only so I can get well," Heather stood next to the sharp man. She noticed his ears were pointed and his aura about him gave her a sense of experience and knowledge. Is he an elf? "As soon as I am able, I will leave your lovely home and return to them."
"They only need you to steal gold away from the dragon, nothing else."
"I'll learn to deal with that fact."
Another silent pause in between their discussion. Heather felt Elrond getting anxious and she could tell that he really wanted to say something, but something was holding him back. This was one of Heather's pet-peeves; if you had something to say, you better say it and get it over with. It killed her more if she was the one who wouldn't say what she was thinking, that's why she had confronted Thorin about his unresolved issue right before they ran into the trolls. Look what that got her, a dwarf who keeps grudges for life and an overbearing elf who didn't even know her.
"Look, nothing you can say will keep me here; as temptingly beautiful this place may be-"
"You will never find them."
"Excuse me? Find who? The dwarves?"
"Your father and sister. They are already dead."
"WHAT?!"
Elrond looked away from her and avoided her eyes at all costs. "Yes, if you leave now,
they will be dead."
Heather wasn't sure how to take this random outburst about her family being dead. So, her fight-or-flight reflex kicked in and it was fight.
"Bullshit! I can save them! Hell, I've saved twelve dwarves from three trolls. I think I can save two people-"
"I will not be responsible for your death!" he snapped and glared at her. However, over the years of getting that same look from her father, she has become immune to it.
"No one is asking you to," she grumbled at him. She didn't need a stranger, an elf, to look out for her. Clearly, she could take care of herself.
"You have no idea how valuable, and important you are. You are-"
"Getting pretty fucking annoyed."
Their eyes glared at each other. Elrond's eyes were like that of her father's, dark, piercing, and, to anyone but her, very convincing. Heather was unfazed by Elrond's psychic eyes, so she simply gave a "don't-fuck-with-me-and-my-family" look in return. They held their staring contest for a while. Neither of them were willingly to give in; that much was given just by their stances alone.
Finally Heather sighed loudly, realizing it was utterly pointless to try to "out-glare" the man, elf, that had saved her. "Please, even if they are dead, I want to honor them, show my respect for them, by giving them a traditional burial from our beliefs."
Elrond's eyes seemed to become slightly less harsh as Heather mention of her family's beliefs and traditions. Although, he was not to be hindered by it to the point of giving into her requests. Instead, he only shook his head and said barely loud enough for her to hear, "I simply cannot let you die."
He left her room.
Heather was surprised and thoroughly enraged. How in the hell are you going to deny me to retrieve my dead family?!
"His intentions are good," a soft voice said. Heather turned and saw Lady Galadriel by the door. "You are hurt and can easily get injured when with Thorin and his company."
"You can't tell me my family is here, and expect me to not look for them," Heather growled. It was her responsibility to watch-out for her sister; especially since their mother died. "I have to try, at least, to save Sieyara. She's fragile and isn't anything like me and-"
"Is that because you two don't share the same father?"
Heather bit her tongue from the revolting truth. Her father and she were the only ones who knew of this travesty. They both had sworn that when the time was right, they would tell Sieyara, but other than that, they haven't said one word to another living soul. Normally, Heather would have lashed-out at her, but Lady Galadriel was concerned and wasn't discriminating them for hiding their family secret.
"Well, that's half of it," Heather admitted. She didn't doubt that Lady Galadriel doesn't already know the second half of the reason of why she has to keep an eye out for her sister.
Instead of either of them stating what they both knew, Lady Galadriel walked over to a white sink and grabbed bandages from the floor by it. She turned around and looked at Heather with glossy eyes.
"I will help you find her, but only because of where you and her have come from. But, I have to change your bandages."
