Me:...Huh? Oh, hey there audience, how're you guys doing? *sunbathing, as the weather is actually glorious where I am, for once*
Thranduil: *Also sunbathing, with shutter glasses on* You do know that they cannot answer you here.
Me: I'M JUST BEING POLITE, MR POINTY HEAD!
Thranduil: My head is not pointy...
Legolas: *sunbathing as well* It is when you wear your crown, father-
Thranduil: *pulls up shutters on glasses* I THOUGHT I ASKED YOU NOT TO TAKE HER SIDE IN ANYTHING!
Legolas: But she gave me these wonderful little circular treats :( *holds out handful of Jaffa Cakes*
Thranduil:...You allowed yourself to be bribed? *looks irritated*
Legolas: They're really good though...here, try some father!
Me: And so my evil plan is set in motion...muhahahaha!
Disclaimer: I own nothing of money making ability here. Just my Oc's and storyline.
Chapter 10: Hope
Weeks passed, and still there was no sign of me getting back to my world. In fact, the strange dreams-that-were-not-dreams had told me more than once that I wasn't going to be going back to my world until I'd stopped whoever it was that wanted to 'disrupt Eru's creation', whatever that meant.
My twenty sixth of November birthday, which normally would have been celebrated with the entire family gathering in the house for cake and presents and storytelling, passed without any acknowledgement from anyone, mainly because no-one had asked and I'd not bothered to tell anyone. Elbeth and Melanor, and perhaps Legolas and Curunas, were really the only ones I counted amongst my friends – all the other Elves were courteous and sometimes friendly towards me, but no more, and I was the same. I was a fish half in and half out of water, really, not knowing which way to go. Even I only sighed out a small rendition of "Happy Birthday" to myself before getting on with the day, not feeling like I was actually twenty years old now.
Thranduil and I crossed paths on several occasions, and though he still had that air of superiority hanging about him he was always willing to tell me how his searches were going – so far he'd found absolutely nothing that held any reference to a world or occurrence similar to mine, not to my surprise – whenever I questioned him, and would ask after me each time we met.
As the months wore on into December I found my homesickness turning into a resignation that I was going to be in Middle-earth for the foreseeable future. Sure, I was still sort of in limbo about the whole thing, moving sometimes as if in a trance, and the sadness and longing was still there, but I'd started to slowly come to terms with being stuck in a world I'd thought existed only in the pages of books and the flickering images of movies. It didn't hurt that Thranduil's halls were an endless source of adventure and beauty and were inhabited by a race that was more than easy on the eyes.
However, when the Winter Solstice and the inevitable feast – I'd learnt, both from my knowledge of the Elves from reading Tolkien's books and from what I'd observed in my almost five months here in Thranduil's halls, that Elves would have a feast at the drop of a hat – came along, my hope of seeing my home again was given reason to burn a bit brighter.
It was late evening, and the feast hall had been decorated with snowy whites and silvers and pale blues, with most of the Elves also wearing long winter garments of the same hues as they wove and danced to the cheery tunes Curunas and a few of his students were lacing through the cool air. I could have played along with them, the Elven musician having invited me to join him on his little dais, but knew that I didn't have the patience to sit and play for hours on end, even if I did enjoy the time I spent with the violin I had been lent.
Instead, I was busy testing out my skills with both Sindarin and Silvan. I had improved reasonably well over the past few months, and could now actually hold a reasonable conversation in either language before having to break back into Westron. I moved through the throngs of Elves around the edges of the impromptu dance floor, though I doubted they called it that, taking in the words that flowed around me like a river and returning any greetings or answering any questions thrown my way. Elbeth had once again accompanied me to the feast, but had left my side soon after reaching the hall. I didn't mind all that much, though, as Legolas had soon found me, and had taken great delight in conversing in Sindarin with me for a while before moving on.
Coming to a stop in one of the very few clear spaces around the edge of where pairs and trios of Elves danced across the floor like so many graceful winter birds, I was tempted to snag a glass of wine from one of the tables. The rich red liquid looked inviting, even to someone like me who'd never had a taste for the stuff, or any alcohol for that matter. Mmmm, should I? I mused, my gaze resting on the nearest glass.
"I would not partake in the wine, if I were you," came a deep voice from behind me. I jumped, hand flying to my chest as I spun around and found myself meeting the cool gaze of Thranduil. "It is a potent beverage, even by Elven standards," he continued, eyes sliding to the wine table before returning to me as he finished, "so you would more than likely pass out after only a glass."
Oh, now I'm really tempted to see what it's like…but I'd best not, as I have no idea what kind of drunk I'd be.
"I guess I'll give it a pass then," I replied as my eyes, as they had been doing for the past month, being drawn up to Thranduil's winter crown. It was similar in size to his autumn one, but instead of being made from a glossy brown wood it looked as if it was of pure ice, the white almost lost against his pale locks. Thin strands of what greatly resembled frozen cobwebs hung loosely between each of the spikes that stood up unevenly above his head, each looking like little icicles. Small, frosted holly leaves and plump red berries decorated the base of the crown, only adding to the complex delicacy of the entire piece.
"A wise choice," Thranduil said with the barest hint of a smile, hands folded behind his silver and white clad form. I wonder what started him on dressing for the seasons – in colours and style, that is?
We talked of little things such as how I was finding the feast – enjoyable, to say the least –, how my speech, reading and writing were coming along – quite well, as I demonstrated by switching momentarily to Sindarin, Silvan, and then back to Westron – and how my little excursions outside of the halls had been – again, enjoyable to say the least. As nice as Thranduil's halls were, one tended to miss the open sky and fresh breeze if without it for a while.
Thranduil was silent for a moment after I finished telling him of how Aeolus had decided to roll around in the snow outside that morning, expression giving nothing away as he watched me with those age-holding eyes of his.
"Your searches, I presume, have turned up nothing?" he suddenly questioned. He was always doing that, changing the subject in the middle of conversation, and it always took me a few moments to catch up with him.
"No, they haven't yet," I sighed, shadows of longing flitting through me.
"As I thought. I have searched through almost every one of the books in my study that I believe could have something useful to you in them, and they have yielded nothing…so I believe it high time we travel to Imladris and Lothlórien in search of answers."
"Mmm…w-wait, did you say Imladris…as in, Rivendell? And Lothlórien? Why do we need to go there?" I questioned as soon as I realised just what the Elvenking had said. Thranduil's gaze sharpened ever so slightly, perhaps picking up on the familiarity with which I uttered those two names. Rivendell and Lothlórien? But they're so far away!
"Yes, I did. Do you know of them?"
"Of course I do! They're-" and then I paused, realising that I'd just been about to say, "rather important places in the War of The Ring," thus revealing something of what I knew about the stories set after this time. Oh, you're a sly one, Thranduil. That's the fifth time you've almost got me to show the extent of my knowledge of the future…man I need to be more watchful, I admonished myself whilst finishing aloud, "-not hard to miss on the maps of this world," praying that Thranduil's enviable observational skills would, for once, miss that little slip up of mine. But of course, they didn't; I could see it in the way his bright blue eyes became colder, more calculating as he watched me. And here I was thinking that you understood me when I said I wouldn't be telling you anything of the stories set after this time.
Recently, during our little chats each time we crossed paths, Thranduil had begun slipping in seemingly innocent questions when I expressed a familiarity with something I shouldn't even know about or when I did or said something along those lines; questions that I noticed almost too late each time were indirectly trying to get me to let slip some of the future of this world. I'd managed to stop myself just in time whenever he'd done this, but it was always a close call, and I knew that Thranduil wasn't going to stop until he got what he wanted to. Stubbornness was, it seemed, another trait of his.
"…Indeed," he murmured after a moment of silence that was, on my part, rather tense. "To answer your question, both Rivendell and Lothlórien have books and papers that I do not – ones that may contain the answers as to how exactly the Valar bought you here and how you will get home. I also think it necessary to seek help about your…predicament from the likes Elrond, Lady Galadriel, Celeborn and others whose knowledge of this world is almost as extensive as theirs."
"O-oh, yeah, that would be good…I hadn't thought past what I would do when I finished looking at the books in the library," I stuttered, nails halfway to my mouth before I realised what I was about to do and stopped myself. Thranduil was still keeping a close watch on me, as if he were trying to see inside my mind and pick out everything I knew, and it was all I could do to occasionally meet his gaze as I asked my next question.
"When will we go, King Thranduil…and why're you coming with me?" One impressive eyebrow raised a fraction, and I felt my cheeks tinge red.
"N-not that I mean to be rude, or anything…but don't you have a realm to rule?"
"I do, but it would be unwise to send you to Imladris and Lothlórien without someone who knows what has happened to you accompanying you, and since I am the only one to whom you have told your story, I will come with you. It always helps to have someone to assist you in convincing others that what you say is true, and Legolas is more than capable of ruling in my stead, for a little while at least."
For all he knows I could have told Elbeth or Legolas what's happened to me, I muttered to myself as Thranduil continued, his words as sure as ever.
"We will wait until spring is well past its dawn next year before departing, first to Imladris and then to Lothlórien, as all the routes that we might take are treacherous during the depths of winter."
Aaaand I'm not even being given a choice in this matter. I mean, sure, it'll be pretty cool to see Rivendell and Lothlórien in real life and not just in my mind or in movies, but still, Thranduil could at least ask me if I wanted to go. I snorted at this thought, shaking my head and drawing a faintly questioning look from Thranduil. Then again, he's not someone who asks if others want to do something before getting them to do it…this is all so surreal I can't quite get my head around the fact that this is all actually happening.
"Sounds fine to me," I replied, not that Thranduil needed me to say that. I just felt like I was actually included in the decision if I did so. My eyes slipped from the King and out to the crowd, picking out the familiar figure of Legolas twirling a brightly laughing Elf maiden through the other dancers before moving on. I smiled slightly, but before I could ponder what some of the fangirls – and fanboys – would do now if they were in my place, something at the far edge of the hall caught my attention. Turning slightly, I found my gaze coming to rest upon Dagalion. Oh, now that's an exquisitely evil look if ever I've seen one. He could give some of the Queen Bees at school lessons in glaring.
He hadn't bothered me since I'd punched him – in fact, I'd rarely seen him in the field when I was around, and if I did he was soon gone from the vicinity, sending spiteful looks my way but doing nothing more than that
"I presume that Dagalion has not been a problem since I spoke to him?" Thranduil asked, obviously following my line of sight – Dagalion's glare had turned into a stony mask that had been averted seconds later, presumably because his King had turned to look at him.
"No, he's not bothered me and Aeolus at all. Thank you, by the way, for doing that," I replied, turning away from the enemy I'd managed to make and meeting Thranduil's blue gaze with a smile, though it perhaps wasn't as sincere as it could have been owing to his earlier attempt to worm more information out of me. He nodded.
"It was no trouble…'Quel undome an lle, Fenna," he ended in lilting Sindarin, stepping back slightly, and I knew that, for now, this was the end of our conversation. I was more than a little relieved, as it meant no more keeping a sharp eye out for anymore oh so innocent questions from Thranduil. Still, though, speaking with the King of the Elven folk here in Mirkwood was always interesting.
"'Ar an lle, Aran Thranduil," I answered after taking a moment to find and string the right words together. My tongue still tripped over most Sindarin words, but I was usually alright with the simpler ones. I hoped, anyway. For all I knew, I could be mangling them horrible and making a complete fool of myself.
Bah, who cares if that's the case? I thought to myself as, with a slight incline of his crowned head in my direction, Thranduil slipped away from my side. I'm still able to speak it well enough for people to understand me, and that's all that matters. Plus, I'll be able to impress everyone when I get back home with my newly acquired language…if I ever get home that is.
Next Time...
Chapter 11: Snap and Repair
I was once more up in Thranduil's study, having been invited there by him in order to 'look over some of the books he already had, owing to the fact that I would have a better idea as to what I was looking for'. Or so he had said. What I had really been bought up here for was for the Elf to try and get me to slip up and reveal something about the stories after this time. So far I had almost been caught out four times in the last hour, and just like when Dagalion had finally pushed me too far I could feel my blood beginning to boil. Ever since my near miss at the Winter Solstice feast two weeks ago Thranduil had seemed even keener to get me to make a mistake.
My slowly crumbling restraint wasn't helped, either, by the fact that my monthly visitor had once more shortened my temper and bought out my claws, as well as upping my paranoia about revealing anything to Thranduil until I was walking on a tightrope of calm above a roiling sea of irritation.
Sighing quietly to myself, I attempted to lose myself in the words whilst also keeping a sharp eye out for any information that would prove helpful, legs crossed under me on what had almost become my regular seat.
"Damn it I wish I'd paid more attention to the start of The Silmarillion," I muttered, dragging a hand over my tired eyes as the words began to blur. It was late afternoon, but I was still recovering from my restless sleep last night owing to you-know-what.
"Is that the name of one of the books detailing events that have not yet come to pass?" came Thranduil's silken voice, but just then I wasn't in the mood to admire its song. Though it was an innocent enough question I, now completely paranoid about the Elvenking trying to gain the knowledge I held, easily heard the undertones of what he was trying to do beneath the spoken words.
Slamming the book closed, I let out a hissing breath and turned my narrowed gaze upon Thranduil, who had paused in his writing to look over at me.
Sindarin Translations:
'Quel undome an lle: Good evening to you
'Ar an lle, Aran Thranduil: And to you, King Thranduil
Me: *Watching delightedly as Thranduil tries and fails to be sneaky as he eats his tenth Jaffa Cake*
Legolas: I told you they were wonderful, did I not, ada?
Thranduil: *Can't talk because he has his mouth full*
Me: And now that I know your weakness, I can get you to do aaaaanything I want you to.
Thranduil: *Shakes head* Nu, u curn't.
Me: You wanna bet? Oh, and don't talk with your mouth full, it's rude.
Thranduil: *swallows Jaffa Cakes* Do not order me about.
Me: I'm only repeating the words you used when speaking to me earlier XD