ASHLEY
The next time I wake up, I'm in a lavish room and lying on a bed that took up most of the space; on the opposite wall was a tapestry that depicted horses grazing in a field, next to it is a modest wardrobe, in one corner of the room, next to a rather large balcony was an ivory colored piano. What the hell? Shrugging, I push the covers off and walked over to it; feet protected from the cold stone by the elvish boots I had on. I sit down on the piano bench, letting my fingers gently brush across the keys—I've always loved the sound of a piano and had bugged my mom until she agreed to pay for lessons. Well, my mom from 2015 anyway. That distinction is gonna take some getting used to, that's for damn sure. Slowly, I fall into the familiar rhythm of playing, starting with the first song that came to mind.
"I set out on a narrow way many years ago, hoping I would find true love along the broken road, but I got lost a time or two, wiped my brow, and kept pushing through. I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to you." Playing a singing at the piano sent me back to my early teens and the soothing familiarity with which I played had me forgetting my problems for the most part. "That every long lost dream led me to where you are. Others that broke my heart, they were like Northern stars pointing me on my way into your loving arms. This much I know is true, that God blessed the broken road that led me straight to you."
Soft clapping brings me back to the real world, my head jerking up in surprise. "That was really good," the blonde from earlier says, giving me a kind smile. "I haven't heard the sound of a piano playing since before my mother died and I came here. I've missed it." I say nothing, standing up and give her a suspicious look. "Do not worry, your father asked me if I could find some suitable clothing for you since yours is in no good shape." I couldn't deny the fact that my clothing looked shitty; the shirt and breeches were torn in several places and stained with blood—mine and others'. The woman moves over to the wardrobe, opening the doors and browsing through the many dresses. I catch my reflection in the mirror that hung from one of the doors and my eyes widen in surprise.
I've lost weight since I first came here, I wasn't exactly skinny, but I was certainly smaller than I had been. I raise my hand to my face, now free of dirt as though someone had washed it while I was sleeping, dark eyes wide and lips slightly parted. "Holy mother of God," I whisper softly as I take in the transformation. No matter what I did in the other world, I had hell losing two pounds, so you can understand what a big milestone this is for me.
"This dress should fit you, and you'll be able to fight well enough in it if need be." The woman helps me into the dress and breeches, frowning slightly when I fight her on changing my boots. These things ain't leaving my feet unless I'm changing clothes, then they come back on. The dress falls down to a little below my knees with a leather belt that wraps twice around my waist with a holster for the dagger that Elrond gave me. The leaf necklace Galadriel gave me standing out in stark contrast against the pure white of the dress. "It is a bit longer than I thought, but it seems to be fine otherwise." Of course it's longer; I ain't nowhere near as tall as you are, blondie. A knock at the door gains our attention. The blonde gives me a brief smile, quickly moving to open the door and revealing Aragorn standing on the other side. "My Lord, your daughter is ready."
"Thank you, Éowyn." The blonde, Éowyn, nods and walks past him out of the room with her head bowed slightly. "How do you feel, Larien?"
"Better now," I answer, sitting on the piano bench again, my hands folded in my lap. "What exactly happened, anyway?" Adar sits on the other end of the bench, giving me a worried look.
"You ran out of the hall—Gandalf thought from being overwhelmed—we didn't worry at first; we thought you just needed time for yourself, but when you did not come back after two hours we began to worry and search. I found you soon afterwards… You were on the very edge of the cliff and barely breathing…." He trails off staring down at his lap, lips pressed tightly together in a thin line. "I don't know exactly what caused you to fall into that state, but Gandalf was able to help you." I nod, remembering what had happened vividly now and feeling stupid that I had let those particular emotions get the better of me. With a huff, I stand up and walk out onto the balcony, breathing in the fresh air—untouched by pollution.
"Sounds like a panic attack turned into an asthma attack." Aragorn stands next to me outside, watching me closely as though he were afraid I might do something idiotic. "You know, I've been wondering something ever since I got the news you were my father. Will you answer me honestly if I ask a few questions?" At his hesitant nod, I continue. "What was my mother like?"
"Quite a bit like you in some ways." I lean back against the marble railing, silently urging him to go into some more detail. "She had your hair and your temper," he smiles slightly," actually, she threw a few pieces of fruit and some appalling remarks at Lady Galadriel when she gave you a journal for your first birthday."
"What the fuck is a one year old gonna do with a journal?"
"Her thoughts precisely; she also had this way of staring at someone that made them want to tell her the truth or run away in terror. Andrea seems to have that mastered as well and I don't understand how it doesn't affect you." I shrug, having dealt with Andi's doom glare since we were in diapers and didn't know even what a glare was. "She could play the piano well enough that Lord Elrond invited her to play for him at times—she actually liked Elrond, he was one of her favorite elves besides, of course, Haldir." I nod, remembering the elf fondly. I missed him even if our fling mainly consisted of a one-night stand.
"What else?"
"Um, she was as distracted as you are; trying to do one thing and then thinking that she should do something else, and never really getting anything done. Don't give me that look because you know it is true." Yeah, I'll give him that one. "She was one of the happiest elleths I knew, though she had a certain light in her eyes that held such mischief and I never thought I would see it again until you came home."
"What was her name anyway? You forgot to mention that."
"Her name was Enelya."
"You keep speaking in past tense, did she die or something?"
"Honestly, I have no idea if your mother is still alive; she disappeared when you were one and a half and I haven't heard anything of her since. After she had you she changed from the elleth she had been and she just couldn't take the stress of raising a child. She wasn't meant for it." My eyes drop to the ground, inspecting my boots with feigned interest. Had I really been the cause of my mother running away and leaving Adar in her dust? "I think I will start down to the hall, dinner should be served soon."
"Why did you send me away?" My question makes Aragorn pause in the doorway of my room, shoulders tense and head bowed slightly in shame. I take a couple of steps forward into the room, the cool breeze from outside making me shiver. "What would make you send your only daughter to a completely different world that didn't even acknowledge this one except for in movies? Was I such a terrible kid that I drove away both of my parents?"
I'd been wondering that for a while and I could feel tears building up, but refused to let them fall. "I had no other choice," he says finally, voice breaking slightly.
And then he was gone, the door shut firmly behind him and I was alone again.
When I walk into the crowded hall, I search for a familiar face, spotting Leggy's first and immediately pushing my way through the throng of people towards him. "What's going on," I ask the elf, seating myself on the low bench that ran the length of one of the many long tables. "Where's the food I was promised?"
"Is that what Aragorn told you to get you to come down," he asks in amusement. I give him a curious look before the truth smacks me in the face: Aragorn had lied and I might have to ride a freaking horse soon. Oh, that man is pure evil! "You can ride with me if it makes you feel safer."
"Oh yeah," I say sarcastically," I'm sure Adar would just love to ride with Gimli." Said dwarf looks up at me, one of his bushy ginger eyebrows raised. "No offense, Gimli." He nods, grumbling to himself and taking a gulp of beer. "So, when are we supposed to be riding out into the sunset?"
"Why don't you ask Aragorn, he should know." I watch Adar over my shoulder, noticing Éowyn talking to him and getting a little too close for my liking. I wasn't about to let some random chick get in the way of Andi's and my dad's whatever it is—Andrea would kick the crap out of me if I did. The woman smiles at something my father says and my eyes narrow into slits, hands clenching and unclenching as I ready myself to confront the pair. I don't give a damn if he is my daddy, I'll still try to kick his ass if he hurts my best friend—I've known her a hell of a longer than I've known his ass. "Oh no, I know that look and it never results in anything good." Leggy grabs my wrist and forces me to stay sitting. "Last time I saw that look was right before you started throwing apples at dinner and broke my father's nose." I chuckle evilly at that, wishing I could remember it just for the look Thranduil must have had on his face.
Scowling, I watch as what's-her-face walks away, sending Aragorn one more smile over her shoulder that spoke volumes of what she thought of him. I didn't like any of it. Adar walks over to the rest of our little group, sporting a fond smile of his own. "We should get ready," he tells us," we will be departing soon for Helm's Deep." At the name of the Rohan safe haven my stomach drops and I'm unsure as to the cause—a feeling a dread crashing into me like a wave. "Are you alright, Larien."
"Fine," I answer automatically, a little harsher than I meant to. "Just… I'm just not looking forward to riding a horse again." Clearing my throat, I give the others a feeble excuse and hurry out of the crowded hall into the even more crowded streets, looking for a certain blonde that needed a good talking to and I was in the mood to give her one.
"Take only what you can carry," I hear a feminine voice say to my left. Turning, I find Éowyn helping an older woman to pack a basket of clothing and food. "I will help when the time comes to move out." The old woman nods, looking sadly down at the basket that held her belongings before turning and walking back into her home. "Larien, I didn't expect to see you out here." Éowyn gives me a bright smile and I don't bother to return it with one of my own, instead I drag her to a quiet spot. "Is there something wrong?"
"Just one thing," I tell her with a nod," I know how you feel about my Adar and if you keep trying to get close to him romantically, I won't hesitate to smack the ever-loving shit out of you." Her happy expression turns to one of shock. "My best friend is taking on a dangerous quest, but she and Aragorn love each other, and if you try to sway his affections it won't end pretty for either of you because I may have a pretty bad temper, but by God hers is a hell of a lot worse." With an optimistic smile I ask," Understand now?" She nods slowly and I turn and walk over to where the mini Fellowship has gathered in the stables with an extra skip in my step.
"Larien," Leggy greets with a respectful nod and a teasing smile. "Have you decided who it is you will ride with on the way to Helm's Deep?" I give him a thoughtful look, tapping my chin lightly with one finger.
"Hmm, perhaps myself this time," I tell him confidently. Adar looks at me with a raised eyebrow, mirroring Leggy's expression to a tee. "What? Just 'cause horses have it out for me doesn't mean I never learned how to ride one in that other world. It was calming and a way to get away from stress, and even worse, people." Gimli snorts, patting my arm in understanding. "Anyway, where's Gandy gone and run off to?"
"He is going to find Éowyn's brother and the men that followed him to help us fight and defend Helm's Deep," Adar explains, taking my hand and leading me to a pale gray Gelding that had already been saddled and prepared. "I thought you might like this one earlier and so I had it readied for you." The horse has a certain cleverness in its eyes that made me feel safe as I reached out to run a hand along its side, my other hand resting gently on its muzzle. "What would you call him?"
"Thalion (Thal-I-on)," I answer immediately, recalling the Elvish word for strong. "This horse possesses strength I've seen in no other. It has seen grief." Adar nods in approval of the name, brushing a loose strand of hair off my face with a tender look.
"This was once your mother's horse. You've chosen a good name for him, he is a very strong horse." With that, Adar lifts me up and places me in the saddle, strapping a short-sword I hadn't noticed on afterwards. "This was also your mother's, it brought her luck and I think you should have it now. She always called it Linte—Swift." I swallow around a lump in my throat, nodding and letting him lead Thalion and I out of the stables outside where Leggy and Gimli were already mounted, Leggy holding the reins of Adar's horse. Those with horses rode out of the city while those that didn't walked with what they could carry and nothing more.
Soon, when I look behind me, Rohan is just a tiny speck and constantly growing smaller.