A/N: And now it's my turn to post a chapter! Yay chapter!
Now, in answer to some concerned reviews and emails I've been getting, no, I didn't delete BCWYWF parts I and II from my account. Someone deleted them for me, after hacking into my account and leaving a "YOU HAVE BEEN HACKED" message. I have informed ff.net via their reportabuse@fanfiction.net email address.
If anyone out there knows anyone who goes by the handle Lady Lynx, please punch her for me. And then please inform her that she is a childish individual with an obvious lack of respect for others, that her little stunt only worked as long as it took me to upload new files, and that she should perhaps learn to act like an adult before she ends up friendless and alone in an unforgiving world.
And now, on with the story!!!
***
Glorfy didn't press me for information about the men who had kidnapped us, or how I'd gotten my black eye. I had fallen asleep against his shoulder as he carried me back out of the scrub trees, leaving the dead Orcs to scavengers. I don't know if Gilly carried Fiona, or if she walked. I just know that darkness is a wonderful thing when you've been fighting it for so long and need to rest.
Unfortunately, I woke up in the middle of the Dead Marshes. That place reeks. The very smell of it drew me from one of the most pleasant dreams I'd ever had: Glorfy and I were getting married, and whatever powers brought us here had allowed my family to attend – although only in their dreams. And then half way through the ceremony, something started to smell really super rank and I woke up to find…
Miles and miles of rotting marshlands, bogs, sink holes and little lights off in the distance. Glorfy said once that these were to be the spirits of drowned Orcs and Elves and Men. I have a stronger suspicion, however, that those little lights were ignited methane spouts, which are common in large areas of rotting vegetation such as this. Methane's a super bitch when there's fire about, but...sometimes that can be useful.
Whatever. If a sea ever covers this bit of land, those marshes are going to make one hell of an oil deposit some day. Provided, of course, that there were some serious geological changes going on, not to mention climatical. The porous rocks necessary for the containment of oil are generally limestones, which are formed from the deposited sediments and organic materials in a tropical sea, (it's the calcium carbonate…can't be helped). This isn't the only way, of course, but…you know what? Enough of this. While my speculations about the geology of the area kept me occupied that long ride back to camp (as much as I would have rather to talk to Glorfy, moving my face in any way hurt like a bloody bitch, so I avoided it. Hard, when you're sitting in front of a super hot Elf), I'm sure you don't want to listen to my ramblings any more.
"Minaimîr." Besides. It seems that Glorfy wished to speak to me, even though I couldn't answer very well. At some point while I was sleeping, my jaw muscles had gotten very stiff.
Despite this, I turned my head up a little to look at him and was rewarded with a lovely view of his jaw. He has a very nice jaw. Very well defined. For a moment, all I could think about was tracing that jaw…finger or kisses; the method didn't matter.
"Yeah?" I may be an Elf now, I but I don't think I'll ever manage to get their dignified sort of speech down. Well, at least, not yet. As I told Elrond, being human is a habit hard to get rid of.
"Why did you run?" He asked. "Is it something that I have said or done to offend you? I know that I may have acted in a manner that is very inappropriate for one I have known as long as you, but I assure you that you needn't run again. I will perform this courtship in a more honorable fashion if that is your wish."
I let him speak his bit, not wanting to hurt the feelings that he had so obviously admitted to. I know I'm still having some issues considering the fact that I actually had someone I could call a 'boyfriend' now (it's a novel thing when you've never had one before), but there were still some things about his ideas of what happened that I needed to put straight.
"Glorfy, you lovable fool," I began. Not the best way to begin a sentence, but then, he was acting a bit foolish. "I didn't – and never would – run from you." Hadn't I mentioned the man who had back fisted me? "Don't you remember? I was kidnapped."
He looked a little embarrassed but glanced around. Looking for eavesdroppers? "I need to know more of your kidnapping, then."
I noticed (finally) that we rode a little away from everyone else, and that Glorfy spoke in a hushed voice. "What do you need to know?" I kept my voice hushed too, though I'm quite sure that every Elf behind us could hear everything we said. They'd had more practice with the ears, after all.
"Everything. "Every touch and every word spoken to you."
His voice held a definite edge to it. A sudden knot of dread decided to make its presence known in my belly. I frowned slightly.
"Why?" I asked worriedly. "You're not going to do anything stupid, are you?"
"Lady, great insult has been presented to you. Your captors must be punished."
I kept silent. I remembered how we'd tied the idiots up and left them to the elements, their weapons just out of reach. Guilt joined the dread; I'd been playing with people's lives. So what if they'd kidnapped us and dragged us though the smelly Marshes? They're still people, and as much as I hate to admit it, I still feel twinges of what could possibly be loyalty (though more like nostalgic loyalty) to my previous species. Besides: that sort of behavior – leaving people to their deaths – doesn't make me much better than an Orc and I definitely did not want to be compared to those bloody bunyips.
In our defense, though, those idiots did interrupt a perfectly good sleep, and they did kidnap my sister and I, and they did drag us half way across Middle-earth and one of them did backhand me and leave me with a nasty concussion…but they were acting on orders. The orders of an idiot, but they're still orders. Soldiers follow orders – it's what they're there for.
"They will be," I replied eventually. And have been, I added mentally. "But I think you should leave that up to Gilly-boy."
"I know, Minaimîr," he sighed. I noticed that he had abandoned the efforts to get me to stop referring to the High King as 'Gilly-boy'. I wonder if this is a step in the right direction? "Yet anger boils my blood when I look upon your damaged face, and I cannot help but wish to seek retribution for your injuries."
I shuddered, remembering the Orc that had called me 'damaged'. I consoled myself with the thought that that Orc was long dead – and killed by its own kin.
"I know what you mean," I said ruefully. "I kept myself awake planning their slow, torturous deaths, but…in the end, I would not be able to carry them out, and I feel somewhat disgusted with myself for even thinking of them."
"You only acted as your situation deemed, melyanna," Glorfy said quietly. His arms slid securely around me. Glorfy didn't have to worry about Minras' reigns; the horse knew where to go. "You cannot be at fault for that."
"I know. We would have been fine, though, if not for those damned Orcs. And their damned collars." And if I hadn't left well enough alone and let Fiona throw the damned coconut. But I didn't say that aloud.
"It may take time for you to heal from these wounds, both inside and out." Glorfy pushed me back suddenly, looking down at me with a worry – and a fear – that I can only remembering seeing once, when he carved his way through Orcs to get me during my first battle. "But please, melyanna, consider staying a while in Middle-earth before you go to the Sea. There is much to see, even with this war, and I do not think that I could bear it if you – "
I silenced him with a hand upon his lips. "If you think, Glorfindel the Golden, that I'm going anywhere without you or Fiona, then you're seriously mistaken." I smiled to take the sting from my words. "I may be female, but damn it, I was human before this, and taught from childhood to handle depression. I can handle a little grief."
He pulled me closer again. "You have no idea how glad my heart is to hear such words from you," he murmured into my hair. I sagged against his broad – and wonderfully firm – chest. There was nothing I could say. Despite the reek of the Marshes, I was content. Where my head was I got the scent of Hot Elf.
"We of the Elven races," Glorfy continued, "have not dealt well with the grief brought upon us so many centuries ago. Even the smallest sadness experienced only adds to our sorrows because it comes with the knowledge that eventually everything beautiful that we hold dear will fade."
"Not everything," I said, in an effort to placate him, though I knew his words rang true. Even Elves die sometimes, and mountains are worn down over time. "Valinor will stand until the ends of time, and even then I'm sure some sort of arrangement will be made."
"We can but hope," my golden Elf replied. "Especially that we will make it past this battle, and that the world will not end in darkness."
It took effort, but I didn't tell him about the return of Sauron, or the darkening of Greenwood the Great by the Necromancer, or of Gollum, or Bilbo, or Frodo, or even of the fact that I knew that he would make it out of the Battle, and even to the end of the next Age some three thousand years from now. That thought, even though I knew that it might change things, bore with it a concept that I had tried very, very hard to forget, and even now, had not thought of.
Gilly wasn't getting out of this. What that was going to do to Fiona…
"We can," I agreed. There was nothing I could do about Gilly, except that hope that his remaining time with Fiona wasn't interrupted by any more of these stupid plots to rid the camp of its 'distractions.' "Hope is all we really have, these days."
We were silent for a time, still a little ahead of the others. His arms hadn't moved from around me and I was almost lulled to sleep again by the gentle swaying of Minras. But Glorfy drew me back out of sleepiness again with a quietly spoken sentiment that melted what parts of my heart hadn't been melted yet, and turned what solid parts remained of my body into jelly.
"You are my hope, Minaimîr." Barely whispered words…you wouldn't have thought that they'd have such a strong impact, would you? But words can be fickle things sometimes. When uttered at the right moment…well, you get one jellified Rhiannon with tears in her eyes.
The only thing I could do in response was burry my head further into his chest. I don't remember how I managed it, but I somehow ended up sidesaddle with my arms tight around him, trying very hard to keep those hot tears behind my eyelids lest someone else notice.
How is it possible that those five little words could do this to a reasonably sensible, nearly grown woman?
Well, nearly grown by our old standards of 'civilization', anyway. By the Men's codes, I'm a spinster (hopefully not for long!) and by the Elves' codes, I'm a child, barely old enough to like boys and still somewhat confused about the Birds and the Bees. Why this somehow qualifies me for the Glorfindel's Hope award I'm not sure, but I'm definitely not complaining!
I realized after a moment that I could hear his heart through his breastplate, and thought contentedly that I could stay like this, listening to that simple beat, for the rest of my natural existence…
And then Elrond showed up.
I wasn't as annoyed as perhaps I might have been. Elrond and I had, in fact, made a sort of peace. Definitely a truce, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to tease the living daylights out of him every chance I got, or act like a total idiot just to annoy him for the sake of it…when I was better. I suppose e is the King's Herald but…I can have my fun! Besides: I swear that Elf makes his own timing. For him everything's just peachy keen, but for everyone else…this has to be the most annoying talent on the face of the planet.
Still, the fact that Gostanc – his horse – didn't seem all that tired told me that we must be nearing the camp. I could see the vague outline of tents through the mists of the Marshes, and now that I was listening for it – instead of Glorfy's heart beat – I could hear the sounds of the everyday motions of the camp; voices and orders given and armor maintained, and horses being fed, and soldiers practicing on the fields, mostly. Combined with the snap of pennants in the wind and the rustling of the Sindar's tents, which almost looked as though they were made of leaves. A fresh wind blew from the direction of the camp, and I suddenly found the smell of too many people in one spot with not enough bathwater to be inviting. More inviting than the Marshes, anyway.
And speaking of bathwater…I could really use a good hot bath. With a resigned sigh, I knew I was going to have to settle for a sponge and a bowl, but…well, I can't complain. This is a war, after all, and I'd already had my turn at the big tub.
"Lord Glorfindel," Elrond said slowly as he rode up. He bowed from the saddle. That bland expression he's so well known for must be permanently etched into his features. "I see that you have found the Ladies Minaimîr and Anórmír."
I pulled my head from my scrutiny of Glorfindel's armpit (it's a lovely smelling armpit; really it is) and turned to greet the Royal Pain in the Ass. He took one look at my face and visibly flinched.
"Hey," I protested. "It can't be that bad. And 'hello' to you too," I added.
"I take it you have yet to see your face, my Lady," Elrond replied, his voice dripping with tact. "The entire left side of your face is as nearly blue-black as the night sky."
"That would explain the throbbing. You've got some smelly man in the service of Hermes back there to thank for that one, though I'm pretty sure it's already been seen to." Damn. Was my face really that bad? This was going to put off the tentative plans for a 'reunion celebration' that I had, involving Glorfindel, some privacy, a little chocolate and yours truly. Although the chocolate was more of a side thought. Glorfindel and I were the first two ingredients, and privacy was the biggest one. From there, just mix well and…hee hee hee!
"I must hurry to speak with the King," Elrond continued. "But I will heal your wounds later tonight, if you will permit."
"Of course," I said, though I really wanted to strangle the Elf, our truce forgotten. So much for that tentative reunion celebration! Ah well. Rhiannon, you have other things to worry about, like staying alive during the war. This means getting that concussion looked after.
There are times when I hate my inner dialogue, but not often. Hating oneself has always seemed to me to be a pointless gesture. Hating stupid idiots who dragged you off into the wilderness for no other reason than politics…now, there's a gesture that's not so pointless!
Elrond nodded sharply and then nudged Gostanc into a quick trot back towards where, no doubt, Fiona was with Gilly. I wondered how those two were coming along, but didn't look back. Glorfindel can make any obstructed view seem all the more better. With another sigh, I put my head back on his shoulder, and closed my eyes, dozing until we reached the camp.
I jerked out of my daze when Glorfy and I pulled up at the horse pens. He hopped down and then helped me dismount, and with a quiet word to Minras, he led me away slowly. I found it easier to walk as we went along, though, so I guess I didn't really need to lean on Glorfy like I was, but…well, when you stand next to an Elf that hot, you try not leaning on him as much as you possibly can. Especially when he's being Mr. Gentleman and insists upon helping you do everything.
Including, as it seems, bathe.
"You are tired and in pain, my lovely one," Glorfindel argued when we got to his tent, which was apparently closer than the one Fiona and I shared. "And it would not be a hardship to wash you."
"Glorfy," I answered as firmly as I could manage, "As sorely as I'm tempted right now, I really don't think it'd be a good idea for me to let you. Don't worry, sweets," I added, figuring this next might be on his mind. "I'm not going anywhere, and with you in the outer part of the tent, no one's getting in."
"Are you certain, lovely one?"
"Quite." One of these days, I'm going to have to take him up on that, though. I still think it's odd that at the beginning of this little adventure of ours, I would have jumped full force at the mere suggestion that he might be willing to fetch me bathwater.
But still. As much I as I would absolutely love to have Glorfy at work with a cloth and hot water (that promises to be a great deal of fun), certain recent events concerning chocolate, and then our sudden disappearance might hasten things along a course that should be slower than it would have been. In other words, I don't want to rush things, and I don't think it would be a good idea for anything to happen just now.
If not now, when?
Would you just shut up?
Make me.
"Minaimîr?"
"What?" I looked around, and then realized that I'd been lost in thought again, and that my inner dialogue decided that it had been a good time to be a pain in the ass.
"Are you alright? You appeared distant." Is it just me or is he getting more worried? Maybe he thought I was going to 'run from him' or something. Men can be so strange sometimes.
"Sorry, Glorfy," I apologized. "I'm quite tired, that's all. It's been a hectic couple of days." And the prospect of you giving me a bath, has once again sent my mind a whirl. But I didn't say that out loud.
"All the more reason for me to ease your load and wash your skin," Glorfindel answered.
Bloody hell! Where is it said that guys are allowed to do this to women? I almost gave in – almost. Came so very, very close to whipping off all my clothes right then and yelling, 'Wash me then, Glorfy boy!' at the top of my lungs.
But I didn't. I think Fiona would be ever so proud at my restraint, had she been there at the time.
"Your offer is most generous," I said slowly, trying to keep the quiver out of my voice. "But I really think it would be a good idea if we held that particular thought for later." I couldn't help but notice that this was the second time we were having this conversation. Does he never give up on an idea? Or maybe he just wants to see me naked.
That thought stopped the blood in my veins quite effectively. I wonder…would he let me bathe him?
Rhiannon, mind out of the gutter!
Yes, mother.
I'm not your mother, you idiot. I'm you! And as much fun as this is, you really need to be coherent right now.
Fine, fine.
Glorfy sighed. "If that is how you see things, melyanna, then I will make no more effort to change your will. I will have some water heated and brought then, along with clean clothes."
"Thanks, Glorfy," I said as he gave a little bow. His smile in return made the hair on the back of my neck stand straight on end. I almost called him back in too, after he slipped out of the tent. But I didn't.
Instead, I sat down and wrote this…well, most of this. When you're away for a couple of days, and things happen, there's always too much to catch up. If anyone of you have actually written a journal like this, I'm sure you know.
Glorfy returned with a bucket of steaming water and a pile of clean cloths, which he left on his desk. The water he dumped into a silver bowl next to the cloths. It didn't look anywhere near as luxurious as the last bath he'd brought me, but it did look quite wonderful.
"If you are in need of assistance, my Lady, or should need more cloths with which to bathe, please, do not hesitate to call me. I shall await yonder for your call."
"Will do," I replied. It was the only thing I could think of to say. He bowed again and slipped away. I set about removing my clothes and tried very hard not to think about Glorfindel removing my clothes…that would have sent me on thought paths that wouldn't have been very constructive towards any sanity I might still have left, so I changed the subject (or tried to) and thought instead about the last time I had seen my littlest brother.
He'd been about six, standing in the airport terminal next to mum as they waved me good-bye on my way off to Australia. He had been wearing the sweetest little outfit; a pair of cargo pants and the cutest blue sweater with a teddy bear embroidered on the front…I had given him a hug before I'd left and…
I stopped that thought immediately, before the tears started. I wanted to remember my family with good thoughts, not immediately start crying while I was trying to get back to my bath.
Still though, I had to wonder. How had they taken the news of my death? And where had they buried me? Had they shipped my body home from Australia back to Canada? I certainly hoped so. As much as I wanted to be buried next to Fiona, I think I now understand why it is people return to the place they were born to be buried. It's a sense of completion, of coming Full Circle. Or maybe there's some salmon in the blood.
Despite my efforts, my throat felt thick as I began to wash, starting at my feet and working my way up. Of course, in order for one to get the most skin clean on ones legs, they are often forced to put one leg at a time up on a desk. Stiffly, yes, but I had to do it, because bending over wouldn't have worked for the world. There was a satisfying pop in the back of my leg when I finally managed to get it on the desk. I flexed my toes and heard the most wonderful sounds of snapping cartilage that I've ever heard.
I had just finished one leg and was starting on the other when I heard a curious little cough behind me and turned – somewhat slowly, on account of the bruise that was still on my back – to see if I could discern from where it came. I saw naught but a tent flap, which I graced with a narrow-eyed suspicious look before turning back to my bath. If Glorfindel was watching…
New thoughts now…before something regrettable happens.
Legs done, I started on my belly and had finally – after several sore moments – made it up to my arms when there came the distinct sound of somebody dropping something and then tripping over it a moment later. It ended in a very loud clatter, accompanied by a sudden, and serious, bout of Elvish curses.
"Are you alright, Glorfy?" I asked, somewhat concerned.
"I am well, melyanna," Glorfy answered. There was something wrong with his voice though; it didn't sound quite so rich any more, and actually sounded somewhat strangled. There was more clattering of metal on metal.
"You sure?" The Elvish cursing continued in a mutter for a moment.
"Yes, lovely one. I am sure. Nothing is the matter."
Now…isn't that just a leeetle bit abrupt for my Golden Elf? Something's amiss, and I'd better investigate. With a quick rub of the cloth behind my ears and gently across my face, I picked up the robe Glorfy had brought, put it on, and went to see what was up with the blonde god of my existence.
He was fine – for someone who had tripped over a crate and had landed in a pile of armor. There were styluses and paper strewn about the area, but I didn't stop to look at what he had been doing, only went over to see if he was all right.
I pulled his breastplate off his head and tried very, very hard to keep the giggles smothered, knowing how delicate Elves can be sometimes when it comes to their dignity. It wasn't going to last for long, I knew, but I thought it probably best if I didn't immediately greet his embarrassed look with sniggers and chortles. I offered him my hand instead, and he grasped it.
Damn…I'd forgotten, for an instant, the feel of those wonderful, fine-boned hands of his. They're so strong too, which belies their look. Not that I'm complaining or anything. He pulled himself up, but didn't yank too hard on my arm, which I found to be a blessing. I don't think I could have supported the entire weight of his nearly seven-foot frame, however slender.
By the time he stood by himself, straightening his tunic, I was biting the inside of my cheek hard.
"Even Elves are allowed to trip, Lady," Glorfy said a bit defensively.
"Are they now?"
Elrond again. Come to heal me, no doubt. A glad as I was at the prospect of being rid of my bruises, things could have gotten a lot more interesting if I'd managed to answer Glorfy.
"Yes, my Lord," Glorfindel answered. "It has been known to happen."
"Indeed. Lady Minaimîr. I have come to see to your injuries."
"Damn. Can you hold on a minute? I haven't done my back yet. Or my hair." Let the record stand that I am not a vain person. I just detest dirt when it's on me. I adore being clean.
"I believe both may wait," Elrond said smoothly. He hefted a sack in his left hand. "I have brought the supplies necessary to concoct a poultice for your face," he continued. I wondered why he hadn't bothered to think of this for my back. And then realized I was out cold for three days after the battle. "It will help ease the swelling."
"Thanks," I said genuinely.
Elrond stepped further into the tent, and I realized that I was still holding on to Glorfindel's hand. Or he was still holding on to mine. Either way, I wasn't complaining and had no qualms with leaving my hand in his. So that's the way we walked further into the tent.
You would not believe the amount of dirt that can come off someone after they've been out in the wilds for a couple of days. I took one look at the cloth that I'd used to wash myself just now and wanted to be sick. Dirt and dried blood have never made a good combination, and I still hadn't even washed what was on my back off, though I'd tried. Maybe Glorfy should have done my back. Maybe he still could…
That thought for later, my inner dialogue reminded me sharply.
Elrond sat me down on Glorfy's chair, and then moved the cloths and bowl of water I had just been using aside, setting up his own equipment. He then went to work mixing the various ingredients together to get…
…Something that smelled worse than the Dead Marshes and the Bog of Eternal Stench together. Well, I thought so, anyway. Ye gods it reeked! Even worse than the smelly bastard who'd back-fisted me in the first place! And he wanted to put that on my face?
"Lady, I am aware of this concoction's fragrance," Elrond began. I guess he'd caught the look on my face as I stared at the glorpy lump of herbs and other things that he'd mixed together. "But you must put this on your face for at least two hours to bring down the swelling."
And thanks for completely throwing any plans of having Glorfy – or anyone, for that matter – in the same tent with me for more than two seconds at a time, you bloody bastard, my inner thoughts rang. But I just sighed and accepted the mush he slathered all over my face. After all, I wanted this bruise gone.
"You must replace this after it has dried and flaked away," Elrond said in a no-nonsense tone of voice before he left. I was not looking forward to this, but then…well, if it got the bruising down, then I wasn't going to complain. Even if I was going to be climbing the walls pretty soon from a frustration that I would rather not think about, since thinking about it only made it worse.
Damn…I'm a horny little she-Elf, aren't I? Sweet Jebebus! The chocolate couldn't have stayed in my system for that long…
Anyway…moving right along…
"I will do this," Glorfy replied, "after I wash the Lady's back."
Elrond nodded and with a barely-there grin (or smirk, I suppose), he slipped out the tent and into the camp, off to tend more wounded or do whatever else it is that Gilly's Herald does. Glorfy – my beautiful Glorfy – turned his attention to my back the instant Elrond was gone.
I was somewhat afraid that he thought that he'd scared me, or that the Orcs had managed to do something I hadn't told him about yet, because I was trembling the entire time. In actuality, I was keeping a tight lid on all the impulses that suddenly wanted to be let free. It was hard work – and exhausting.
"The bruise is nearly gone from your back," Glorfy said after a tense moment. He dipped the cloth again in the warm water. I couldn't help but gasp when it touched a hitherto dry spot on my shoulders, and Glorfy carefully wiped away the dirt and dried blood.
"It is?" I asked, speaking out of one side of my mouth. The other side had some pretty nasty mush slathered all over it. "Sweet!"
"If only you had not acquired this new injury, melyanna," he continued. "I had plans."
My ears went up, along with the hair on the back of my neck. "Really?" I asked, drawing the word out slowly. "Do enlighten me, would you?"
I could almost hear him blushing. And then he planted a soft kiss, right on the top of my pointed right ear. The resulting shiver caused me to grab the table, and everything on it shook a little and rattled before I could get my quivering muscles under control.
"Is that enough information, beloved, or do you wish for more?"
I thought rationally for all of two seconds. "Well," I said eventually, "I don't think I caught your meaning just then."
So he repeated the procedure, only with my left ear. "And now?" he asked.
You see? This is precisely why I didn't want him giving me a bath in the first place, at least until I'm properly healed. Because with this bruise on my face, and the nasty mush on top of it, not to mention the healing bruise on my back, any sort of 'plans' that either Glorfy or I might have had can't come to fruition. It's a pisser, but…well, that's the way it has to be. For now.
"Do you understand now?" Glorfindel asked in a voice that did nothing for my condition.
"I think I'm beginning to grasp certain concepts," I answered, latching one hand onto his, where he was holding my hair away from my neck. "But my understanding might be a little…delayed."
"Is it now?" Glorfindel asked. It almost sounded as if he was purring. "Well…I think some instruction will come in hand." He kissed the back of my neck before letting go of my hair but he still held my hand as he moved around to face me from the front. He leaned his head forward, touching his forehead to mine.
"Glorfy? What are – "
"Hush, sweet thing," he whispered. "This will not hurt."
"What won't?"
He kissed me, but it was nothing I'd ever felt before. It was almost as though a jolt went through me, warming me through and through, from tip to toe. Everything seemed more alive in that instant, my perceptions of the tent and everything in it were clearer than they had ever been before. I felt…something, soothing down the throbbing in my skull and back and face, and could only think it was Glorfindel, though how and why…
When he pulled back, he looked down at me with a smile, and then lifted one hand. I instinctively flinched as he moved it towards the damaged side of my face. I was healthily surprised when he simply brushed away the mush that Elrond had layered on my cheek, and it didn't hurt in the slightest.
"As good as new," Glorfindel said in that voice that made me quiver. I raised my own hand to my cheek and found the bruise gone.
"What the bloody hell?" I asked, more than a little shocked. "How…?"
"I simply accelerated your healing," he answered. I gave him a flat look that spoke volumes of my incomprehension
"What?" But I grew concerned as he swayed a little and sat down on the floor of the tent somewhat heavily. "Glorfy?" I asked, rising from the chair in which I was seated and keeling at his side. "What's the matter?"
"It is nothing, sweetheart," he answered. "Only that this procedure takes much energy to complete, even with so small a wound as that on your cheek. I need only to rest, and then for only a moment."
That didn't do anything for my concern. His face had gone pale and it gleamed slightly with a small layer of sweat. I brushed his hair behind his ears and looked him over.
"What the hell did you do, you foolish man?" I chided gently. "And why didn't you just let Elrond do it?"
"Elrond needs his strength, melyanna," Glorfy answered slowly. His eyes were drooping. If I wasn't careful, I was going to get hysterical any moment. I pulled the robe back up around me before I stood.
"Has anyone ever told you you're a dork?" I asked.
"No, I do not believe I have ever been addressed so," Glorfy replied, quite truthfully.
"Well, you are," I said simply, refusing to elaborate. He wouldn't understand anyway. "Come on," I added. "Let's get you to bed."
"Minaimîr, you need your rest – "
"Don't even start, buddy-boy," I cut him off, offering my hand. He looked at me for a moment, but I wasn't having any, so he heaved himself up, one hand on his desk.
He nearly fell over again, but I caught him before he toppled. We didn't say anything as I helped him over to the pile of blankets and cushions that served as a bed. He didn't even say anything as I helped him pull his shirt off and lower himself down onto the bed. I didn't know what else to say myself, so I just arranged his blankets over him, made sure he was comfortable, and then gazed at his face for a moment. His eyes were drooping.
"Are you sure all you need is rest?" I asked eventually.
"Aye, lovely one, I am. I will be fine within a few hours."
"You better be," I muttered. "Or I'm going to be pissed."
He smiled weakly at that, but then his eyes went unfocused, half closed, and his breathing became slower and more even. I'd never seen Elves sleep before…I wondered if I did that now, of if I still hung onto the human habit of closing my eyes completely. I know when I was little I would sometimes sleep with my eyes open – scared the crap out of my mum too. Whether or not I did now…that remains to be seen.
Pardon the pun.
When I was sure Glorfy was gallivanting about the realm of dreams, I rose from my crouch beside him and went over to his desk, picking up his silver backed mirror. Sure enough – and I almost dropped it when I saw my reflection – the bruise and nasty paste was gone, leaving only smooth and unbroken skin. I flexed my shoulders a little and found that the result of being smacked on the back with the blunt end of an axe was gone too, leaving my movements free and unrestrained. This, I realized, was perfect! I quickly smothered my giggle, though, because I didn't want to wake Glorfy. I wanted him to be in tip-top shape when he woke up, because I had plans.
No, I'm not going to tell you what those plans were. You'll just have to guess for yourself, now won't you?
To keep myself occupied, I washed my hair in the left over water, though it was now a little cold (and dirtier than I care to think of), and put some cleaner clothes on so I wouldn't have to run about in Glorfy's robe. The soft shirt that I put on was Glorfy's though, and was hopelessly huge on me. Not that I minded in the slightest, that is. Even if the neckline had some odd ideas about how far down it was going whenever I bent over.
I wrote a little more to catch myself up while I watched Glorfy sleep, but eventually I got restless and moved around the tent, picking up the various bits of clothing I'd left scattered before moving into the outer portion of the tent to see what I could do about the mess of armor and paper that Glorfy had made before Elrond had shown up.
I started with the paper on the floor first, piling it together. It was when I was nearly finished that the first picture caught my eye.
Pictures? Oh, aye, pictures. Seems my Glorfy-kins has an excellent talent with a pencil…especially when he's drawing…me…
My eyebrows shot up when I realized just when these pictures had been drawn. Especially the most recent one…of my back…and my leg on the desk… It wasn't finished. I guess this was what he was doing when he tripped, but…wow. They were excellent, even though I had been the unwitting model for his art.
I wondered if I should be mortified or shocked or upset, because he'd drawn me without my permission. That thought was put down as quickly as it popped up. Who cares? I was flattered that he thought me a worthy subject to draw. Besides…the number of times I'd drawn people based on hot celebrities just don't bother counting.
I piled the pictures – drawn on parchment likely horded – together neatly and then set to work picking up the pencils and the box they'd been in before Glorfy had dropped it and then tripped over the crate he'd been sitting on.
The armor was a bit more of a problem to arrange. Do you know how hard it is to pile that stuff without it clanking? And especially when it's that farkin' heavy? A total pisser, that was, but I did it anyway because the other alternative was to stand in the middle of the tent and do nothing at all.
And, of course…I could go to sleep…
Later, later…definitely thoughts for later, or else I'd never get the damn armor picked up. I'd end up rushing it, and it would clank and be noisy, and wake Glorfy up, and he needed his rest.
He needed plenty of rest.
And, come to think of it, rest might just be a good idea. I yawned and stretched…and froze as a thought hit me, and hit me hard. Something was wrong with Fiona.
To this day, I don't know where my feelings like this come from, but I think they're related to Fe's uncanny ability to find me when I'm hiding, or the numerous occasions when we'll speak as one. But wherever they come from, however I knew, Fiona was emotionally distraught and it was something I felt I needed to see to.
So, without any boots, without changing into my own clothes or doing anything with my hair, I sped out of the tent, startling a pair of guards that I hadn't even noticed and who didn't even yell after me until I was already a good distance away, down the row of tents towards…
I didn't even know where I was going. My inner dialogue pointed out several times that I was being silly, but there was still the felling that something was not quite right with my twin. So I ran on. And ran smack into Fiona being escorted by Elrond back to wherever it was she was going, and looking quite…subdued? Relieved? What the hell had happened?
I asked her as much.
"What's the matter?" Fiona asked when I finally panted my question at her. "Why aren't you dressed?" She frowned as I caught my breath. "What happened with your face?" she asked before I could get my own questions out. Elrond didn't help matters any by grabbing my chin and examining my face in the mid-afternoon light. His blue-gray eyes widened a little bit.
"Glorfindel," he said after a moment. I couldn't understand the tone in his voice. Something between anger and annoyance and…fear? Nah…not fear.
"Yeah, he pulled some healing-speeder-upper thing on me," I said, backing up so I could reclaim my chin and talk to my twin. "Fiona, what's the matter? Why were you emotionally distraught?"
"What?" she asked, obviously confused. So I explained to her why I was running about the camp in an oversized shirt belonging to one of Gilly's generals, and she explained to me why she'd been emotionally distraught just now. Because she'd arrived at the main pavilion just in time to stop the Alliance from breaking up and had had to gather a great bit of courage about her to do so.
I nearly sat down with relief when I realized it wasn't because Isildur had tried anything else, or because…well, I didn't really think there were any other reasons. I was just glad that everything was all right.
"Don't do that," I said when she was finished.
"Do what?" she asked.
"Scare me like that. Even if you don't really know how, just don't."
She smiled and shook her head. "I'll try," she said, "if you promise the same." I smiled myself.
Elrond interrupted us, as usual. "My Ladies, I believe it prudent for you to return to the tents from whence you came," he said.
I nodded, thinking of a sleeping Glorfindel I was just itching to snuggle up to.
"Wait, though," Fiona said, looking between Elrond and I. "Elrond, would not now be a good moment for that…" her face started going red and I had to wonder just what was going on now, "…um…discussion?" she finished.
Elrond watched her curiously. Watched me curiously too, probably wondering why I wasn't blushing too along side my twin. Truthfully, I had no idea at the time what it was Fiona had planned. Elrond's eyebrow went up. I have yet to work out if that is a good sign or not.
"My orders were to escort the Lady Anórmír to the Lord Gil-galad's tent," Elrond replied, a trifle dubiously. "Can this discussion wait?"
I looked to Fiona. She was the one who knew what was going on, after all.
"Might we sit awhile in the antechamber of my Lord's tent?" she asked after a moment.
"Glorfy's sleeping," I added, though not really sure if that had any bearing on the matter that was apparently about to be discussed.
"Can we not sit and speak of it until my Lord returns?" I really had no idea why Fe was so intent on this.
Either way, Elrond nodded, and moments later we were off to Gilly's tent.
I wish Fiona had never brought this up.
Well, that's not entirely true. I'm exceedingly glad that I now have all the facts, as it were, about Elf birds and Elf bees, but…
I suppose Elrond was the best person to ask, because Elrond is, after all, a healer. Healers know these things. But I think it probably would have gone better if another female had explained it. But, to the best of my knowledge, there weren't any other females in the camps (I'm still not sure about this, so don't quote me), which left Elrond here as the best source of information about…
Okay, I'm just going to be blunt. Elf sex. That's what we were asking about: Elf sex. All the how's and what's we could think of. Elrond was gracious enough not to laugh, and he actually gave direct answers about the whole lot of silly questions we had, however much they were worded along the lines of, "what…I mean…well, obviously you…do Elves have…um…" and were usually the cause of many, many blushes on our parts.
I think Elrond's ears went a bit pink at one point, but…could have been the lighting.
Anyway, Fiona got really quiet after Elrond announced that bonded couples could hear one another's thoughts and speak to one another that way, and through that bond the female readied…well, 'for begetting' was how Elrond put it. I had to do most of the asking after that, and I swear that they were some of the hardest questions I've ever asked.
Eventually Elrond just took pity on us and explained everything he could think of, covering all bases. Fe and I tried to push some of the colour out of our cheeks, but it was slow going.
Especially when Elrond starts going on like this:
"The normal cycle of an Elven maiden in heat" – in heat! – "lasts for seven days, where in the chances of her begetting a child are extremely high."
Seven bloody days! Good mother; that has got to suck. But wait, there's more!
"During this time, a maiden will lay with her bonded mate as many times as is required for…"
I let his words continue, unheeded. I couldn't have really paid much attention just then anyway, because the tent flaps moved aside and the high king himself strode into the tent, quite obviously surprised to find the three of us sitting there, with our faces various shades of red. I thought Fiona was going to pass out from the embarrassment of it all.
Gilly, though, thankfully has a sense of humor about some things. He just grinned at our discomfort.
"Please," he said, moving about the tent. "Continue with your discussion."
"Um, I think – " Fiona and I started at the same time, and then shared a look and a frantic giggle.
"Later," I said firmly, to keep Elrond from starting up with his bland discussion of exactly how one goes about the task of 'begetting'. I rose – a sudden urge to get some fresh air striking me just then – and had to adjust Glorfy's shirt about my shoulders before I gave Fiona a hug.
"We'll talk later," she said as she returned my hug. "Thank you, Elrond," she said after we pulled apart. "We may wish to…" her face started going red again, "go over some details later."
"As you wish," Elrond said with a small bow. "My Lady Minaimîr, may I escort you to the Lord Glorfindel's tent?"
I nodded, waved jauntily to Gilly, cast a look that said, "be good" to Fiona and slipped out the tent with Elrond close behind. I couldn't help grinning as I wondered what Fiona and Gilly were going to get up to. And then had to shove some particularly nasty – to my mind – images out of my head before they made me too ill.
It helped that Elrond didn't say much on our way back over to Glorfy's tent. There was much that was going on in my head, not the least of it the information that Elrond had just imparted. My mind kept drifting over to thoughts of the most deliciously gorgeous Golden Elf awaiting me in my – his…why do I keep thinking 'my? – tent. Well, he was still sleeping, so I can't really say 'awaiting', but…
I couldn't help but sigh, which earned a slightly amused look from Elrond. A giggle got a more amused look a few moments later, when I considered surprising Glorfy with my newfound knowledge. I think Elrond almost smiled that time.
Elrond left me at the entrance to the tent. One of the guards was missing, and I had to grin at the thought that he was running about the camp searching for me, when I was right here. Still though, I had to feel bad for the poor Elf. The other had obviously been guarding Glorfy the entire time I was away. I grinned at him, largely just to see what would happen. I think he smiled in return, but…well, you can never tell with Elves.
"Lady Minaimîr." Elrond's voice stopped me partially inside the tent.
"Yes?" I turned.
"For future reference, wearing a thicker garment would perhaps be wise."
I frowned, a feeling of dread sneaking in. I looked down.
With a frozen grin and a toneless, "thank you for escorting me, Lord Elrond. Our talk was very interesting," I let the tent flap drop and then tried very hard no to fall over.
It hadn't occurred to me that I wore a rather thin shirt. And it hadn't occurred to me either that my hair was wet, from washing it.
Oh bloody hell.
Glorfy was still asleep when I got to the inner sanctum, as I liked to call it, and the sight of him drove any thoughts of our discussion with Elrond, or my somewhat see-through shirt right out of my mind. At least, I think he was still asleep. His eyes were half open, and I'd never seen Elves sleep before, so I waited a few moments before folding the covers back slightly and crawling under to see if he'd move or say anything. When he didn't, I just snuggled right up to him and heaved a sigh, head on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat loud and soothing to my ears.
After a while, I yawned. I hadn't even realized I'd gone to sleep…
…Until a feather light touch to the tip of one ear startled me so badly that I nearly hurt whoever it was who'd touched me. Having been woken once in the middle of the night and dragged off had left me more wary that I realized, but I quickly noted the source of the touches this time to be one Glorfindel of the Golden Flower, and smiled at his somewhat startled expression.
"Sorry," I murmured (muttered, really, but…whatever) and wriggled my way closer into his arms. "Startled me."
He shot one of those spine-tingly smiles at me and tightened his arms. I wanted to sigh in contentment, and so I did. Best way to wake up ever – in the arms of a super hot Elf who sees you as his hope.
"Feel any better?" I asked, one hand moving up to trace that wonderful jaw line of his.
"Like a new Elf," Glorfy replied, and I had to smile at that. "The more so for your presence beside me." Nearly split my face in two with the next smile.
"Glad I could be of service," I replied, my unoccupied hand finding a ticklish spot on his ribs. He shot up into the air fast and before I realized what was happening, had my arms pinned above my head, his hair falling long over his shoulders to tickle my face with the ends.
I never thought – well, really, never allowed myself to think – that I'd ever see so wild a look in anyone's eyes, least of all him, and least of all direct at me. But there it was, and there I was, and he was grinning like a fiend, and…
"You know, I learned a few things from Elrond today," I said as conversationally as I could manage, trying to shift my arms to get them loose. Now that I was free of my bruises, and that Glorfy was all nice and rested, things were most definitely 'looking up', as it were.
"Really?" Never thought a word could sound so much like a purr. "What of, melyanna?"
"Well," I began and then hesitated. I could feel heat in my cheeks, and it wasn't entirely from my sudden embarrassment.
"Ah. You learned of begetting."
Why do they have to use that word? And why do I have to be so damn embarrassed about this? And how the hell did he know? But I didn't get to muse further, because Glorfy was…well, taking other business further.
"Do you need further instruction?" he asked.
I found myself unable to answer. My tongue was literally stuck to the roof of my mouth. It was an uncomfortable situation, despite the very comfortable weight of Glorfindel that held me pinned to the cushions and blankets and rugs.
"Shall I take that as an 'aye'?"
It was all I could do to nod. I tried pulling against his hands when one let go, but to no avail. His deliciously long fingers slid slightly over the fabric of the shirt I wore, barely making contact with the skin beneath. 'Torture' doesn't even begin to cover what I went through just then. Several words don't begin to cover that, so I'm not going to even try. I'll leave that to your imagination.
He stopped when he reached my hips and then favored me with a mischievously evil grin.
"Did you enjoy that?"
No words. I'm a woman who prides myself on having words, who tends to think in stories and has many words with herself on numerous occasions. But, at that moment, there weren't any. I couldn't even say "yes", which is really what I wanted to say. Either that, or "do that again!" All I could do was stare up at him and try to calm my breathing down and…
"My Lord Glorfindel!" someone was shouting. There was the sound of tent flaps being moved aside, and then…
And then, Gildor shoved his head into the 'inner sanctum'. And froze.
"Yes?" Glorfindel all but growled, releasing me and sitting up, taking most of the covers with him. How I wanted to hide under those covers!
"The…um…the Lord Elendil, that is…um…"
"Out with it, Gildor." Now he was growling. I put my hand on his arm, in the hopes that he'd remember that a) I was there, and b) he wasn't to do anything stupid. He turned and looked at me; I tried very, very hard to keep the colour from my face, to keep the embarrassment from blurring my mind and to keep the disappointment to an absolute minimum. Just when things were getting interesting! But still, I wasn't going to let him do anything stupid, like kill Gildor just because Gildor's timing was most unfortunate.
Gildor turned his back and let the flap drop. He seemed to find it easier to speak when he wasn't on the receiving end of a dangerously annoyed Glorfy Glare.
"The Lord Elendil wishes to speak with you."
"What of?"
"I know not, only that he insists upon meeting you in the command pavilion as soon as is possible."
I felt like growling myself. Instead, I sighed and leaned my head against Glorfy's arm. "Go," I said.
"You are sure?" Glorfindel asked, quite obviously just searching for any excuse to abandon his need to see to Elendil and spend the remainder of the night (for indeed, the sun had sank while we'd slept. Someone had come in and lit a couple of lanterns) ensconced in the tent.
"Yes, you loveable blockhead, I am. Just be damned quick about it, or I'll have to put my newfound knowledge to the test when you return."
"I expect no less, Minaimîr," he said with a smile and kissed me. I think it had probably meant to be a chaste kiss, but…well, I hadn't seen him for a few days, and I'd been wounded something nasty recently.
"My Lord?" Gildor was starting to get anxious.
Glorfindel broke away. "I am coming," he said, and I had to force down some very naughty thoughts at that. I have a dirty, dirty mind, at times, it seems, and my hot Elf doesn't help that very much. With another kiss – on the forehead, this one – Glorfy rose and grabbed the first shirt he came to, and shoved it on. I flopped over onto my stomach and watched him, chin in hand, a silly grin on my face.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I'll tell you when you get back."
"Whatever you say, melyanna," he replied. He fastened his cloak about his throat and with a flourishing bow, slipped out of the 'inner sanctum'
I had to giggle, though, even if I was extremely disappointed. How long, I wondered, until he noticed that he'd put on my shirt?
When Glorfindel did return, a small eternity later, he looked extremely annoyed.
"Elendil wishes to see you fight, melyanna, in controlled circumstances."
"What the bloody hell for?" I wasn't going back to the battles. I wasn't. Well, only for two reasons: 1) Fe was – I wouldn't let her go alone into that mess; not for a million dollars, and 2) Glorfy was down and I – as he put it – was his only hope. And even then, I'd probably die horribly.
"He has come to the conclusion that one sent by the Valar must be trained."
"I'm not going near that battle, Glorfy." I gave voice to my thoughts. "Not unless Fe or you need me."
"I would not have you so near a battle again, melyanna. Not for a sight of the Two Trees."
I stared at him. I'd read enough of The Silmarillion to know what he meant by the Two Trees. But I kept my peace on that.
"Well, I hope you told him my military career is quite over," I said, though I suspected the opposite. From the looks of it, there would be another good seven years before this was over, and there were doubtlessly going to be so many more encounters with death on both our parts that we'd never want to go near meat again.
"I informed the King as to your standing. He seemed to feel that it did not matter, that if we are to win this battle, then the help of the Valar must not be scorned."
"Well, if I was really sent by the Valar, don't you think they would have told us before they dropped us off?"
I must point out, however that my brain was not really working at that point. Not only did Glorfy stand in front of me, looking damn hot in his agitation, but the shirt he'd thrown on – mine – was stretched tightly across his chest and arms, and looked more like it'd been spray-painted on. I had to wonder how he'd even fit into it and not notice anything wrong. But I was drinking in an eyeful, and so lost track of what he was saying.
"Minaimîr?"
"What?" I asked, blinking in surprise.
"Were you listening? I said that the Valar do not always make their intentions known as they act, if indeed they intercede in our world at all."
"Oh. Sorry. I was staring at my shirt being stretched out of proportion by your deliciously formed muscles." Did that just come out of my mouth? I think it might have.
The look on his face was – to be cliché – priceless. I thought his jaw was going to fall off. And then he looked down at his arms and seemed to notice for the first time that he was not only wearing my shirt, but that the sleeves stopped before they made it past his forearms.
His face went the colour of apples combined with a hint of crimson and perhaps a little bit of sunset red too. The only other person I've seen half that colour has been me. And perhaps Elrond earlier, when he was imparting his wisdom. Either way, precious Elvish dignity or not, there was no way I could have kept back the laugh that bubbled it's way out of me just then.
And then, something miraculous happened. After a moment, Glorfindel laughed too, with a golden laugh that I don't think had been heard this hearty for a long, long time. He laughed so hard he had to sink to his knees and hold his sides. It was all I could do to not to fall over myself.
He bent forward to support himself on the ground. He laughed so hard that he couldn't even support himself properly. The shirt of mine that he wore ripped along the seams. We only laughed harder…until I began to notice that his smooth, creamy skin was showing through the holes…and that his hair was wild about his face…and that…I was so close…
Slowly, we calmed, until our hearty laugh was more tremors through our shoulders, half uttered giggles as we stared wild-eyed at one another.
"You tickled me earlier," he said. I swallowed hard.
"I did," I whispered.
"I told you once to not touch me there unless you wish to invite retribution, melyanna."
"You did." It was all I could manage.
And the next I knew, Glorfy was kissing me again and then…
Well, to put it tactfully, what happened after that isn't any of your business. But I did learn a lot more about Elves than Elrond could have taught me with a book filled with complete illustrations and diagrams.
Learned a lot about life in general that I hadn't really realized too. Like, for instance, Glorfy Is Merciless Upon Those Who Tickle Him. And, my all time favorite, Never Tickle a Male Elf Without Expecting Repercussions.
Not that I really minded the 'repercussions' of tickling Glorfindel the Golden. I just woke up the next day extremely giddy and with the sneaking suspicion that there had been something that I'd been missing out on, but now was…clued in. It was hard, afterwards, to think that even that morning I had wanted to wait, to not do anything that could have this result but…well, I guess that 'I'm not ready' excuse was too feeble to last in the face of such a beautiful creature. And that knowledge is the most wonderful sensation…save a few. Like…well…hee hee hee!
Anyway, Glorfy and I are now…um…closer…than before. Much closer.
So close, in fact, that I can hear what he's thinking. I'm pretty sure that this is what Elrond meant when he was yammering about 'bonded pairs' in the midst of all that talk of begetting.
But the one thing that I was most grateful for was that, this time, no one saw fit to barge in. It truly was the 'reunion celebration' that I'd been waiting for.
Hee hee hee!
Melyanna. Glorfindel has called me that name more times than I can count, but I had never known what it meant until we…'bonded'. 'Dear gift', I am to him. If only I knew an endearment in my own native language (English, as you know) that would be as special to him as 'melyanna' is to me! And this beautiful word, with it's beautiful meaning, echoed lightly inside my head from the absolutely gorgeous Elf who is my 'bond mate', as Elrond referred to them, and who – at the moment – is out doing whatever it is that generals do, while I…I sit and write.
So I thought love back. I know that doesn't make any sense, but…well, that's what I was doing, and he seemed to know because…well, traditionally, in books, there would be talk of 'knots of emotion' and so forth. I'd never been telepathic before now, so I guess those descriptions work to give a close approximation of what it's really like. I can't describe what it's really like because…it's one of those intuitive things. You know when they happen, but other than that…no words in the English language – or in the Elvish, that I've come across – can really express what it means to share this sort of bond.
Hee hee hee!
I know writing out my giggles isn't as effective as you hearing them. But saying, "I just giggled," over and over again is just poor writing; I have a reputation.
Anyway, to get back on topic, it occurred to me after my…(hee hee!) bonding…why it is that Fiona sometimes cocks her head to the side slightly as though she's listening to something, or why it is she and Gilly will look at each other with enough expressions on their faces for a thousand conversations, but never a word passing their lips.
Waaaaait…does that mean…?
Nah…she would have mentioned if something like…
Okay, maybe she wouldn't mention it. The embarrassment would probably kill her, not to mention it's an intensely…well, personal happenstance. It wouldn't surprise me in the slightest if she decided to try to keep it to herself. And I say 'try' for a very good reason.
Because I know her too well. If she and Gilly had bonded like Glorfy and I (hee hee!) then there would be Signs, and I don't just mean the occasional silent conversation with Gilly-boy. I'm talking Signs. Occasional bouts of giggling, blushing for no apparent reason…
…Like me, whenever I think of…hee hee hee!
See? I can't even write an insinuating sentence without giggling like a schoolgirl on crack. This is fun.
But back to the story. It occurred to me just now that I'd gone off on a tangent.
As I was saying, thinking emotion and writing about how you're thinking emotion are two…I don't know. But I thought love and all sorts of things that go along with that at my Gorgeous Glorfy, and I got amusement in return. Gentle amusement, really.
What's funny? I asked. Here's another process I can't describe: the actual sending of thought-words from one mind to another. I'm not going to even try with this – my brain gets scrambled thinking about anything more complicated then…men. Nothing is more complicated than a man. Well, besides Calculus. And then, not if you're one of those enviable types who can look at numbers and see a pattern, which I am most certainly not. I can't even add simple digits without a calculator.
Good mother! My mind wanders more now than it did before my…bonding. Back to the story…
Your tone of mind when you write, Glorfindel replied. You concentrate so hard, and then your mind is taken quickly by memories of…he trailed off, and I got images instead. Images of…hee hee hee! I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks at the thoughts of those images, and I tried to suppress the blushes. But, then again, I was alone in our – now that we'd…bonded…the tent was indeed 'ours' – tent. I stopped trying to suppress the blushes that no one could see and thought about all the ways I was going to get back at Glorfindel, deliberately letting him 'hear'.
Really, Minaimîr, is that necessary? Glorfy asked after a particularly…um…risqué image involving handcuffs, some oil, and a couple of feathers appeared in my mind and was instantly transferred to his. And, by the way, I now know what name my Golden one gave me, all that time ago, means. 'Unique treasure'. Why didn't he just tell me back then? I asked him, but I only got a grin in response. I'm going to have to catch him off guard next time, which is going to be hard considering…
Minaimîr?
Sorry, I replied. My mind wandered again.
You need to learn focus, melyanna, he chided gently. Or else you could cause my mind to go wandering with yours. A journey I would welcome, but my King would say otherwise if it occurred in the midst of a council.
I replied with the telepathic equivalent of sticking my tongue out and got a chuckle in return.
"Rhiannon?" Fiona called from the front of the tent.
"I'm back here!" I answered. Fiona's here, I added to Glorfy. Just a minute.
As you wish, melyanna.
A moment later, Fiona stuck her head into the 'inner sanctum.'
"Hey," she said. I turned on the folding chair in front of Glorfy's desk to face her. She stopped, and gave me a considering look, head to one side. "There's something different about you."
"Umm…my face is no longer bruised all to hell," I ventured. Hah. She didn't tell me about her bonding, so I'm not going to tell her about mine…for now. At least, until I get excited about it and can't contain it any more. "And I can move my shoulders." I grinned and demonstrated.
Her eyes narrowed. "Yeah," she said slowly. "There is a glow to your face. Must be that healing trick that Glorfy pulled."
Healing trick indeed. Well, she was right in some ways – Glorfy does know some…tricks.
"Probably," I replied. I couldn't help but grin. My face was probably bright red too, but I was hoping she'd just think it a result of thinking about Glorfy.
"You bonded him!" Her eyes had gone wide with realization. Her hands went to her hips in an unconscious gesture. I don't think she even realized she'd done it.
I froze. I realized vaguely that my arm had frozen in place and the pen was dripping something awful onto the desk.
"Hah!" she continued when I didn't immediately answer, and the heat in my cheeks could rival Mount Doom's magma chambers. "You did! You bonded with Glorfindel!"
"Well you bonded Gilly first!" I retorted hotly. "And you didn't even bother to tell me!" I tried not to feel too wounded at that. It's not as though I'm the trust worthiest of people (if ever there were an understatement…), but I am her twin after all.
"How the bloody hell do you know that?" Fiona asked. Her jaw had dropped and colour had drained from her face.
"I'm your twin," I replied simply. "Not to mention, you run around half the time looking like you're having a conversation with him when neither of you are speaking a bloody word. And you got all quiet when Elrond was blathering about 'bonded pairs' being able to hear one another's thoughts. Don't worry, though," I continued, perhaps a trifle bitterly. "I understand why you didn't tell me. Eru knows I would have blathered the story out at some point before this war is over." Besides: people need their secrets. They need to have things they can keep separate from the common world. It's one of the fundamental reasons why communism doesn't work. But that's a side thought.
We stared at one another for a while, both wondering who would be the first to apologize. I stood from the folding chair I was sitting on and moved in front of her.
"I'm sorry."
Twins to the bone, we said it at the same time.
"Anyway," Fiona said eventually, surreptitiously wiping away a tear or two. She wasn't the only one. She released me from the hug. "It's nearly time for lunch – you hungry?"
My stomach growled, answering the question for me. "Um, yeah," I said with a giggle and a sniffle. "I can't remember the last time I ate. I think it might have been the rabbit."
"Urgh! Don't remind me!" Fiona shook her head, cringing.
"Sorry."
She shook her head again and grinned. And then sniffled.
I closed the book that Elrond had given me to write in and put the stopper back in the bottle of ink I'd been using. It's taken some getting used to, but this old fashioned style of writing is fun. Even having to re-dip the pen (quill, really) every couple of minutes isn't as frustrating as it could have been.
We left the tent together. I couldn't help but notice that everything outside had taken on a new glow of it's own. Colours seemed richer against the dark black mud of the ground; sounds were clearer – I swear that I could hear what was happening over in the Laiquendi's camp, and not just because of my new Elf ears either. Everything just looked so…new.
Is all well, melyanna, Glorfindel asked, startling the crap out of me. I caught myself looking around for him, to see if he was really standing over my shoulder.
Yeah, I answered when I realized he wasn't actually there. Fiona was giving me a knowing look. Everything's good.
Are you sure?
Don't worry. Sisters argue. It happens. All's good.
Then I am glad, he said. And then his presence…faded. Or something. I dunno. I don't quite know how to describe it. It's just another one of those things.
"What are you grinning at?" Fiona asked after a while. She was grinning herself.
We'd been walking in silence. I looked up at her, startled. I'd been off in my own little world again.
"What? Oh…nothing, really," I said simply. "Just…"
"Glorfindel?" she asked shrewdly.
"Hee hee!"
"I thought as much."
We walked in silence again for a while. I could feel Glorfy chuckling in the back of my mind again, but I didn't care.
"Rhiannon, what are you doing?" Her eyebrow had risen.
I stopped twirling. "Dancing," I said simply. I started singing a tuneless little song as I danced down the rows of tents. Passing soldiers – Elves, mostly – stopped as I went by, mostly to smile and shake their heads before returning to their tasks. One or two of them looked disapproving, as though I should dance in a place so sombre. No doubt they thought that, surrounded by so much death and destruction, light-heartedness is too…disrespectful to those who'd died. So I grinned at them.
What can I say? It felt good to be alive. Oh, aye, death and destruction have been happening. I'd seen it first hand when I'd charged the battlefield with Fiona. But I'm alive, and so help me, I'm going to have fun while I still can. Anyone who's been reading this journal will no doubt know that quite well, by now, but there were a good many in the camp who couldn't have.
People need to laugh. It's a lot better than crying.
"Could you quit that?" Fiona asked with a smile, though a tad testily. "I need to talk to you."
I stopped mid twirl and looked back to where Fiona was. She caught up quickly.
"What's up?" I said, wishing I could dance some more. But we were nearing the dining tent anyway.
She explained her plan over lunch, in a hushed voice, and as quickly as possible. There was only one thing I could say, when she finally finished.
I sighed, the food on my plate forgotten, and put my head in my hands.
"Fiona," I said firmly when I finally looked up, "you're bloody nuts!" She winced and I realized that I'd spoken a little loudly. I looked around, and tried to keep my voice down. "This plan is even stupider than something that I would come up with! It's the dumbest damn plan you've ever had! Not only are we going to end up dead from this, but – on the off chance we make it back alive – our respective Elves are going to kill us just for trying! Do you have any idea what this'll do to them?"
She sighed, and looked down. "I know. But what else can we do?" I shrugged. What I said next were, perhaps, the hardest words to ever come out of my mouth. To this day I do not regret them.
"When do we start?"