A/N: Thank you so much, guys, for sticking around although it has been a while since I have updated a chapter. This one was written in series as I am still dealing with a shot of writer's block and am not sure how it turned out. But still, I hope you guys enjoy it. I'd love to hear from you so leave a review.
JJAndrews: Thank you so much for the review. That was a really deep way of putting it tho, Glad you enjoyed it. Hope you love this chapter too.
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HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY! R&R.
Chapter 20: The end of the Beginning.
A raven flew along the horizon, swaying against the mellow breeze of Rivendell as the first light of the day filtered across the dale. The warm glow of sun imparted a placid shine to the scenery, its radiance pleasant against the sweltering heat of the outside world. Inhaling another sharp breath, I willed myself to move. I turned on my heel and the sudden movement made the room swirl in an array of ambiguous colours. I remembered with sudden clarity my effort to starve myself and knew that I had to eat something. I grasped the panel of the window, leaning my back and closing my eyes in an effort to calm down this sensation. After another ragged breath, I stood straight.
Looking around the room my eyes fell on the last of the clean clothes I had and with a reminder to wash the dirty pair I was wearing currently and the one I had changed out of a few days ago, I grabbed this one. The lock of the door opened with a sharp click and I winced at the creak of the door, suddenly wanting to isolate myself again. I shook my head at the chaos of my own thoughts and ignoring the grumbling of the stomach started to walk to the bath. I closed the door after me, ensuring a lock before opening the tap. The slightly warm water felt pleasing to the cold and sweaty touch of my palm and I sighed in pleasure before stripping bare and letting the water run over me. The washing away of the grime felt heavenly but the weakness in my limbs reminded me no to stay too long. Giving up on soaking in the bath I settled for that sort of shower and came out soon to dry and dress. I folded my clothes and looked around to find a basket having my previous ones and threw them in there making a mental note to come and take them just as I eat something.
I padded across the large bathroom and opened the door. The simple movements seemed to be too much and the made my head spin and my limbs tremble. I leaned on the closed door for a moment to regain my strength, no matter how little there was to retrieve. I pushed myself from the door and walked down towards my room. The mirror at the junction of the hallways made me stop abruptly. It took me a moment to fathom that the person staring back at me was actually me myself. My hair was unkempt from not brushing in so long and they hung in a wet tangled mess on my back, a few stray strands escaping to frame my pale face. My eyes were red, puffy and swollen, there were circles beneath them from the lack of nutrition. I was thinner than before, the defeated set of my shoulders causing a lump in my throat. The brown orbs stared back at me and with a ragged breath, I took in the hollowness in my gaze.
In a moment of impulse, I pressed my hands at my cheeks, reminding myself of the promise I had made not even an hour ago. A promise to live. And thus I felt the lump melting away as I saw a strange sort of conviction burning beneath the ocean of distress. That single string of fire burning away in those brown orbs and I felt my shoulders straighten. I will mask all that insecurity behind that strong set of my jaw and the masked expression if only to give hope to myself.
In a sudden attack of weakness, I saw the world go black and I shut my eyes putting my hands on my knees. My heartbeat sped up and I took one too many breaths to calm myself down. It was not the time to contemplate, first I had to survive. I leaned across the wall and pressing my side to it started walking slowly down the hallway. Just one more turn and I will be in my room. My steps were irregular and jerky and my hand trembled even though they were pressed against the wall for support. I felt another round of blackness as I turned the corner and not feeling the strength to take one more step, I slid down to the floor.
My ragged gasps were not enough to mask the sound of disbelief I heard and my eyes flew open. I registered the face of Calyniel as it loomed in front of me. She made me stand to lean on her for support and guided me down my room to the coffee table. With no little sense of gratitude, I saw the tray of food along with a steaming mug of what seemed to be coffee. Sparing another glance at her worried expression, I began to eat. My hands worked with fervour at the meal in front of me and during my spree, I somehow registered the sigh of relief emitting from the person before me. Had I looked up I would have caught the smile breaking across her worried features but I was too busy devouring what was in front of me to notice. Although my stomach lurched at the sudden assault I felt my vision clearing of the blackness and I registered my surrounding more acutely, finally feeling my senses renewed as I finished with the food.
I chanced a look at Calyniel. The pleasant smile on her face masked the worry reflected from her eyes. I could see the alertness in her stance and the hand that twitched on the table as if she was wondering when I will finally faint. The worry, care and support that I had procured till now was the reality, a fact that filled me with sudden warmth. I had already set up my mind and I was going to fulfil that determination.
I placed one pale hand over hers, shaking her from her slight stupor. A question filtered through her eyes but she remained quiet. I appreciated the sense she had of the situation and gave a small smile.
"It'll be alright," my voice was soft, as if moulding itself with the serenity of my surroundings, "I'll be alright."
Now I only had to realise the conviction in my voice into substantiality.
Once. Twice. The stone skipped on the water three times before befalling poor fate. Angling down to pick another one, I slumped on the boulder and shifted my wrist. It made a record of five skips before sinking to the bottom. Uttering a dismayed sigh I fell on my back. Not a good idea while sitting on the boulder, for now, I was in a 90-degree position, with my legs raised to the sky. My locks stuck to the cool dampness of the grass, their mangled ends prickling the exposed skin of the neck. I raised one hand, sighing softly as the fingers treading through them released some stiffness. The sky above me was clear, too clear for my tastes, not even a speck of white cloud could be seen. The depth drawing and sucking my mind into its soothing quiet. I usually was not a fan of the chirpiness of the morning air, but in the subdue calm of Rivendell, I simply couldn't mind such natural luxuries. These unknown pleasures masking my worries and plans until for a moment I could pretend to be alone in the world with just my surroundings as my companion.
The pleasures were undeniable- Or not. I thought, sitting abruptly as a bird went down its business near my face, missing by just a few inches. "Fuck!" I groaned jerking abruptly and pushing my legs to the side to maintain my balance.
A soft laugh erupted from behind me and my head turned so fast that I had to groan as a wave of pain hit my neck.
"Your agility would be quite useless if you had to groan at your stiff muscles every time you made a move." Drawled a familiar voice, laced with amusement and underlying disapproval.
I fixed him with my own stare. "So can we get to the fact that this is the third time you've stalked me."
I was awarded by a charming curve of his lips before he sat on the boulder. I leaned back on my hands to look at him.
"It could hardly be called stalking," his voice was soft, complementing his serene surroundings. He pondered a few moments before fixing me with his amused orbs. "though if it were then maybe twice not thrice, Miss." The last word drawled out as if in mocking and I gaped at his change in moods. How could he be an elf and still so different from the sheer kindness of elves with his defiant attitude? His eyebrow arched finely as he struggled with his smirk. "After meeting with Lord Elladan I'm surprised at your reaction to me." Looking at him I feigned innocence, "Why! Lord Elladan is quite the gentleman- I mean gentle-elf." His mouth twitched and for a moment he looked as if thinking of another retort before he leaned forward and clasped his knees.
"Mockery hardly becomes you, Lanette."
"Arrogance hardy becomes you, melon nin" I parroted, marvelling at the twitch in his brow at my high pitched tone.
I fell on my back, taking care to steer clear of the bird droppings. With both of my pants down at the laundromat, I could hardly change before tomorrow and I didn't particularly relish the idea of a huge stain on my back for a whole day.
The silence was companionable, despite the fact that this was the third time I had ever met him. Looking back at his figure, now shifted towards the waterfall, I felt the gratification that one can only feel in the company of an old friend. How he did that, was beyond me.
We sat in that silence for a while. I closed my eyes, admiring the soft caress of the wind across my skin. The summer in Rivendell was nothing short of a mild breezy spring, with the variety of vegetation growing along the ground and the breathtaking flora blooming in abundance, their fragrance calming on the nerves. What I remembered of Bree was nothing short of torture. With all the moisture, drinking and weed, the bar was impossible to stand in. The sweaty, wet dresses clinging to the skin flashed across my mind and I wrinkled my nose feeling serene as my loose shirt allowed the flow of the wind across the skin.
Looking back at my companion, I coked my head to the side.
"How exactly did you find me, Filvendor?" my voice was soft, wanting to converse but too lazy to delve deeper. A look flashed through his eyes, too quick for me to decipher. His gaze turned sly as he looked down at my sprawled figure.
"There are not many in the solemn peace of Imladris that cause a commotion when they walk." I nearly huffed at the tease in his voice. The melodic tone of his voice was tilted in amusement and I had learned from just one meeting with him two days ago that he was a tease jumping on his prey with practised ease. It was nice tho, seeing as he was so different from the concerned motherly looks that I had come to hate in only the week I was associated with them. I settled for shaking my head in exasperation, in hopes to convey my annoyance although there was no feeling behind it. I rolled onto my feet, brushing off the grass and stretching. I could feel his questioning look on me as I stripped off my boots and padded to the waterfall. It wasn't long before he joined me, the cool water pleasant against our feet.
"You're already aware of my name, although I don't remember enlightening you during our little ramble on the pathway." I looked at him from the corner of my eye and then shrugged. It wasn't as if no one could have told me his name.
"Calyniel was eager to say." I must've grimaced seeing as his contemplating look was on me. Recently the names of my well-wishers left a bitter taste in my mouth. He seemed to understand, as is eyes flickered in sympathy. I looked at him sharply and he realised my silent plea as the sympathy was quickly blacked out. I was glad that he chose not to mention my feelings. "How is it?" he inquired, more about the general coping with the people rather than the emotions. I opened my mouth to reply but the words felt closed in my throat, a similar sinking sensation deep in my chest. I ran my tongue across my dry lips,
"It's... fine." he would be a fool to not pick up the hesitation in my voice. His gaze flickered towards mine but he remained silent. A warm breeze filtered across and I closed my eyes to feel it as Ipondered over the truth.
"Stuffy, I'll say.", after a while, knowing for a fact that he was wanted me to speak my mind. It was the same with him last time, with his friendly and teasing demeanour he kept up a front while coaxing me to tell him the details. And for that I was thankful. Immensely, to have someone to share with. "Everyone I come across is on their guard. Those looks, murmurs, apologies..." I trailed off struggling to find the right words. I sighed and grabbed a stone to skip across the turbulent water. It sank horribly.
"It feels as if they think I'll..." I murmured, my gaze fixed on the water. What did it feel like? I wondered. The first time Calyniel had greeted me with the worried gaze and motherly affection it was appreciated. That day I could not even walk properly, much less converse. It was a good feeling to have the caring presence around. The first time I had a walk through Rivendell, I had felt no less than a clown show, with all those looks directed at me. By the third day, I had been left shell-shocked when Calyniel had refused to leave me with my breakfast even though she was clearly needed elsewhere. It wasn't her insistence itself that was shocking it was the fact that her gaze had flickered briefly to the knife in my hands and then to my wrists. The look was fleeting, easily overlooked if one was not staring at her. I had been livid at her train of thought but had tried to explain the best to her that I wanted to Live, not to die by my own hands. Maybe because of the rage in my tone or the determined set of my shoulders I had seen a brief flicker of acceptance. I was given my space but more often than not I found some elf or elleth conveniently present when I was walking somewhere alone. It also made me wonder if Lord Elrond had found something in the prophecy to make me worthy of this attention. I had mentioned this to Filvendor once and he had just shrugged his shoulders, "You are the wielder of Agnaria, one of the greatest craftsmanship of all ages. That is enough to warrant his curiosity. Don't you think?" he had said and I had agreed wholeheartedly still wondering at the amicability of the situation.
"Break on a moment's notice?" his voice pulled me out of my reverie. It took me a moment to realise that he was completing my previous sentence.
"Yes!", I said, my voice rising in frustration, "As if.. as if I'm really fragile and depressed."
"They're not wrong Lanette." I turned towards him sharply. He was looking towards the front, away from me.
"You do look the part."
"I'm not-" Sighing he fixed me with his stare, the blue of his orbs narrowed in contemplation.
"I know that you're not. That you're trudging forward despite the many difficulties but you look the part." The tone of his sentence suggested a big 'but' that he hadn't expressed and yet I could feel.
"Your body is weak, still nourishing itself on the lost nutrients. Not just during those three days but even due to you minimal diet in the previous months." For a moment I thought about remaining quiet, agreeing with the truth in his words. My diet had been imbalanced for so long and recently I have been feeling signs of growing weakness but the way things were currently going it wouldn't be long before I would be healed.
"It's nothing to be worried about, tho." my tone was nothing short of a whisper as I sighed, my shoulders slouching in defeat.
"That is not what worries us, Lanette." It made me perk up and I looked at his figure from the corner of my eye,
"It's your spirit, your aura of life that has weakened during the course of the past week. The loss and grief of such magnitude is not something healed so easily." That had hit home. I shifted uncomfortably, turning my face to look at the top of the hill as the water gushed down from it. Just because I was too passive these days did not mean I wasn't trying. Just that this dull ache in my chest didn't seem to be settling anytime soon, no matter how many times I would tell myself to move on. I had made a promise with myself and I had no intention to go back on it. Although I knew that not dealing with anything was just another way of giving up, I couldn't bring myself to take the first trudge into this new life. Basically, because I did not know what that step was supposed to be.
Filvendon looked at my scrunched face and I found the weight of a hand on my shoulder. Looking up I saw a genuine smile extended on his face. One that softened his features and crinkled his eyes. One that comforted me in a way I wasn't sure possible.
"It'll take time but one day it'll be fine. They'll realise it soon." Coming from his mouth, I knew it was bound to be true. Still, I shrugged, getting up and drying my feet.
"I feel at a loss," I said, later as we were walking back towards the valley. He stayed quiet turning his head towards me, an indication that he was listening.
"A loss of what to do. Where to start? How to cope?" I was stating my earlier confusion. It was less of confusion and more of a predicament as to what I was supposed to do. I had once heard that every little thing starts because one takes a step forward towards it. nothing comes by itself. It is that one step that triggers the chain of reactions we call life. But right now, in this peaceful valley by the name of Imladris I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do. What does the prophecy say? Why do I have Agnaria, when I know not how to wield it properly? Why was I going round and round but most importantly what was I supposed to do so that all the things will be clear as day?
And now while walking with the one person I had come to trust the most in such a short span, the one I could sometimes see the reflections of me in, I hoped for answers. The answers that had once spurred me to move from Bree, go around the world and return to this magical bearing of elves. Those were the ones I needed, perhaps, to do what I was supposed to do.
"I feel like I must make the first move. Take an initial leap to make it all work out but I'm not sure what it is that I'm supposed to do."
Filvendor contemplated my words. His eyes were far and unfocused. I slowed down my walk to match his steps as he seemed to be slowing down himself.
"Do you believe in fate, Lanette?" The question was so unexpected but so inevitable that it threw me for a loop. Unconsciously, my steps slowed before coming to and halt as I stared at this back. He didn't seem to be turning around any time now. Fate, I thought, chewing at my lower lip. I had thought about it a little since I had a lot of time these days for contemplating life and choices. I had thought perhaps, this all that is happening in life, maybe it could be called fate. I had thought about it without reaching a probable conclusion because at that moment I wasn't exactly sure what was it. Something that governed our life or something that shaped our life according to our decisions? Something that spurred us to act or something that was spurred by us into action? Just what was it? The Fate that played the key role in our existence?
He was still waiting for an answer as I looked up. Somehow beneath the general grace of his figure, I could see the shoulders tense in anticipation. I chewed on my lip as I thought of the answer, my mind ending in a blank. Such a small question but still enough to render one speechless.
"I should," I started, my voice dropped in hesitation. "I mean because of all the prophecies and the described fate and such, but I sometimes struggle with the concept."
He remained quiet for a moment as if wondering what to say. I took two steps, stopping by his side.
"I believe that it shall be the torch to guide you," he said, a playful smile playing by his lips contrasting with the centuries of knowledge in his now solemn eyes. He looked forward again and I rushed to catch up with his sudden pace. We walked in silence until we reached my quarters. His words played in my mind and I wondered what he meant by it. I turned to thank him for his company when he said,
"Fate is not merely sitting around and waiting for your life to play out. It is the courage and will to do what you may, to your full capacity and then wait for your work to bear fruit." I raised a brow at his explanation. Every time I met with this elf, I was left with more things to ponder about,
"To follow down the path carved by your own heart, that is what shall be the end to your worries."
"Do what I wanna do? huh." I murmured, the words calming me more than I thought. Were all my worries just a matter of over-thinking? Was I just to be myself and do what I want to do? Was it always this easy?
"It'll all work out in the end," I said. A small quirk of my lips followed. His eyes narrowed in question.
"Do you believe that?" and just like that the first smile in a week was dropped. I lowered my eyes to the floor, trailing the crack on the marble.
"I'm still trying to." and I truly felt that I was.
I turned around the corner only to come to another long winding hallway. Huffing I stomped down the path, my steps echoing loudly in my wake. According to Calyniel, the laundromat was somewhere along the lower level of the area. Now if only I could come across a staircase or something, I thought only to bristle in exasperation. It wouldn't take a genius to realise that I was lost in the great maze of halls.
I turned around another corner and another and then another until I reached a crossway. Turning right I reached a beautiful archway leading to a terrace. The balcony was unlike those I have seen, with it's dome ceiling raising above and the marbled floor carved beautifully making a splendid piece of art. There was a large round table in the middle with a chair pushed back and variety of scrolls scattered about. Feeling as if I was intrusing I traced back my steps.
I was about to leave when a mop of curly brown hair peeked from behind the table, their back towards me and hunched over their work. I thought to leave without disturbance but something about their stature caught my eye. That something, noticeably, being their height. I took a step around the table only to stop midway as they perked up at the sound of my steps. I shoved down the guilty feeling of having to disturb the work they seemed so engrossed in and swallowed thickly as two pairs of deep brown eyes settled over me peeking from behind glasses on an old wrinkled face.
"Um." I started applauding myself on the eloquence, "I'm sorry to intrude but do you know where the laundromat is?" The furrow of the brow and the faraway look of thought was wiped out as a warm smile settled on the face. The wrinkles intensified to show a lifetime of good humour.
"Oh! It's right around the corner, down a staircase, then a left, a right, another staircase and a little walk across the courtyard." I blinked once and then twice before finally making out a strained smile. What was that right and left and two right down the yard?
"...I see." I said nodding in thanks, "Thank you very much."
Turning to leave I paused near the door, a faint blush creeping up my neck. Actually I hadn't gotten anything and still, something about this...person reminded me of grandparents turning their disapproving gaze from above their glasses to stare at children for being fools. I twisted on my ankle and wrung my hands at front. A shy smile caught up to my face.
"Actually, could you repeat that?" His eyes twinkled in amusement as if he had been expecting such a reply. Then he waved his hand, small and pudgy and sauntered over to the large desk.
"Don't mind, child, it will be of no use."
"I'm sorry?" I asked, confused by his turn of words.
"The master walked by a few minutes before, I highly doubt that you shall find it open." Oh. Dang.
I had really wanted to take a nice long soaking bath with the lavender oil Calyniel had spared for me today.
"I-" I hesitated, chewing on my lip.
"Is master the only person who runs the laundromat. I mean no aides?" Logically there must be a few aides at least. Rivendell was by no means a small valley and even if there was another laundromat running on the far eastern side, still only one elf running for half the valley was sort of unbelievable.
"No, child, no!" the man replied, sifting through the papers and suddenly coming to halt as he surveyed something from the top of his glasses, then he turned towards me, a pleasant smile still warming his face, "It is Thursday. They only return clothes today. I hear master's son was called for something by the Lord." and then as if looking for any witness he continued in a whisper, "Seems quite scandalous actually." before swatting his arm and laughing it off, leaving me a bit speechless.
He padded over to the other side, looking at the book he was working on and turned after a moment, as I shifted on my feet waiting for his sentence to be completed.
"So he shall be the only person there," he said as if suddenly realising my presence.
"I see..." I murmured, my plans for the nice bath squashed quite horribly. With nothing to do the next few hours until the lunch with Filvendor, I felt quite lost. Maybe I should visit the waterfall, although I had been spending a whole lot of time lying there...
"Um, anyways thanks for the time Mr..." I trailed off waiting for his cue.
"Bilbo. Bilbo Baggins." recognition passed through my brain and I smiled at him. So this was the famous hobbit of Rivendell.
"Mr Baggins," I said politely inclining my head. He waved off the formality, his gaze fixed on something over the paper and by now I was itching to peek over. I saw his eyes shift towards mine briefly,
"No, no, Just call be Bilbo." and then he went to the staring contest. I took two discreet steps to the left so I would be able to watch the object of his scrutiny if I tiptoed a bit.
"As you wish ." I murmured, coking my head to the side as I made out the drawing of Minas Tirith.
"And you must be Lady Lanette," he replied, turning his head sideways towards mine. I smiled politely,
"Yes, that's me. Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you too, child!" he laughed, the sound jovial against the tranquillity of the surroundings.
"Is that Gondor?" I said, a moment later as I wondered whether I should take my leave and how to do it without sounding rude. His eyes snapped towards mine and this time I was under the scrutiny of his gaze as if he was wondering why I haven't left yet. I was wondering that myself, a faint colour rising in my cheeks in embarrassment.
"I'm sorry, I was just wondering if you've been there." I finished lamely with a slight hand gesture that ended with my hand hanging limply.
"I haven't," he replied a moment later, a slight longing buried in his voice. Longing to see the parts of the world which can only be obtained by an adventurous soul. I would know, I thought, because half of my family had the same passion. "Although a man on my journey had been the native. I find it hard to write about cultures I have not seen personally." A writer? That was a bit new but seeing as his speech was so nice and comforting maybe it wasn't so much of a shock. I smiled at the frown on his face,
"Oh. There is nothing much. I assure you." I said my tone light as my eyes took in the detailed sketch of Minas Tirith, its grand structure rising magnificently and captured in a beautiful detail.
"Have you been to Gondor?" I shifted my gaze back to my companion and nodded in confirmation. Quite the busy days those have been. Full of work, responsibilities, cares and...hope. My eyes closed for a fraction on the last word. The words that had previously ignited a fire now cold and hollow.
"I stayed there for a few months before coming to Rivendell," I confirmed and stepped forward as he motioned me towards the table. His eyes were now filled with a light of curiosity,
"Oh, my! What an adventure you must've had!"
I nearly laughed at the childlike wonder that found its way in the deep quiver of his voice.
"It was pretty decent." He turned his gaze towards me and stared up with his short stature,
"Say, child, can you spare me a bit of your time?" It was a bit sudden and I looked at him in astonishment. He smiled the same warm smile that made me relax as easily as being in the company of old friends.
"It's awfully boring here sometimes but a bit of fresh company is bound to liven up the things."
I shifted my eyes to the large volume he was writing. I was admittedly curious which was surely reflected by my stance but seeing as I had initially encroached upon his work I smiled down at him, in what I hoped was politeness,
"I don't want to intrude." He waved off that remark without another thought as he moved around turning the papers and clearing the table before dragging the chair towards the opposite ends and waving off my tries to help.
"No, no child. It's a personal request." and then he turned towards me as if remembering something just yet.
"And you haven't had your second breakfast yet, right?"
"My what?" I blinked at him.
"Oh, you poor soul. Haven't yet been introduced to the joy of life. Let me ask the chef. Those macarons..." and he went out of the door, down the hallway all the while muttering to himself and leaving me gobsmacked in the balcony.
"You didn't!" I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth to prevent crumbs from flying out as I listened to Bilbo's tale. To his credit, he had returned a few minutes later with a large tray filled with bakery goodness and a fresh pot of tea. It had been albeit four hours previously and the bakeries were now cold but no less delicious. My hand played with the many cookies on my plate, which Bilbo had insisted on filling every half an hour with a comment about my pale expression and tired bags. And seeing his enthusiasm I hadn't had the heart to tell him about the sugar rush I was probably on right now.
Instead, I listened to the tale of his masquerades and adventures with the company of Thorin Oakenshield, a character I would've loved to meet had he been alive yet.
Bilbo had initially had me recount my tale of Gondor, in hopes to find the true inspiration for his writing. I hoped that I was helpful as I saw his eyes twinkle merrily as I told him of the festival I had attended giving me his rapt attention. One thing had led to another and this is how I found myself hours later, listening in amusement to his tale of the (failed) conversation with the dragon, which ended with a far off look of loss that made me bow my head for I knew that look all too well. He snapped out of it as I argued about the talking powers of a dragon his voice insisting but still light and jovial,
"I certainly did child! A wholesome and cruel creature it was with fangs sharp enough to cut glass and scales acute enough to wound with a whip."
I laughed once more as he recounted his tale of some troublesome children back home, as he called them and I told him of my own escapades back home although they were not as dangerous or as adventurous as his, they still served to our amusement and I realised right there that speaking with Bilbo about home had reduced the pain to a dull ache of memories, pleasant and sad but not fatal.
We sat in companionable silence for a while as I sipped on my cold tea, trying not to gag at the ruined flavour.
"You're different lass," Bilbo said a moment later as I got up, brushing off the crumbs, and raised an eyebrow at the sudden observation which I supposed couldn't be helped when you speak to an only human in the land of elves and only modern woman at that I thought, my lips curling into a smirk, "a nice company to be had about oneself." he continued in a pleased and welcoming voice. I gave him my own smile before pushing the chair back into the table.
"I should leave now. Have already taken up too much of your time." I said remembering the lunch with Filvendor, hoping that I wasn't late yet.
"That is what I should say! I had an awfully pleasant time in your company."
"Me too," I replied, my voice loading with genuine pleasure for truly his company had lightened my mood that had been sour for too long now.
"Hopefully I'll get to see more of you around, aye lass?" he asked his eyes crinkling in question and I gave an enthusiastic nod.
"Hopefully!" I replied twirling on my feet to give him a wave before disappearing down the corridor with a pleasant warmth in my chest and a sweet taste in my mouth.
"Do you wish to accompany me?" Filvendor, currently looking through the large tomb of elvish mumbled, his concentration set on the book in front of him. I looked up from the delicious pastry I was currently picking apart at his concentrated look. His furrowed brow and intense complementation made me start. I couldn't be imagining voices now could I be? With perfect sleep, healthy meals and morning yoga (the habit I had picked up after roasting my mind over contemplation of my situation had helped soothe my mind, thus the newly found habit.)
"Where?" I said, more to be cautious than meaning the question. His lips curved into a smirk quickly replaced with stoicism as he leaned forward on his designated seat.
"For a little masquerade around the Eastern plateaus, maybe even venturing into Bree." My head snapped towards his in a moment of incredulity as the weight of his words settled over me. I couldn't help the rush of inexplicable joy that I felt, smiling a toothy grin in his direction.
"Bree? Are you serious?" I was rewarded only with a nod from him. I felt jittery suddenly having an urge to get to my feet. It was no secret that my life in Bree, those first few months of my arrival had been the most peaceful of all the months I had spent here. Looking back to those light and carefree nights I really wanted to visit even if only to taste Raforta's cooking and Butterbur's lame jokes again. Still, there weren't many elves venturing into Bree and I stopped to stare at Filvendor, causing a raised eyebrow out of him.
"But!" I asked, my voice laced with incredulity, "But why?" I really hoped that the answer was favourable to me and that it won't cause some unexpected trouble-
"Lord Elladan sends scouts about the area, ever so often-" Well, don't mind then, I thought as I heard his words. My last encounter with him was nothing less than a spat, a spat over my own abilities that had left me staggered. He was a jerk, that's for sure but there was a sense of authority and leadership in his stance that spoke of his title and something buried in his eyes that could make one's skin crawl in fear, even if his voice was carefully bordered on tranquil and passivity of the elvish race. I've come across a few elves here in Rivendell but rather than the monotonous features there had been some emotions carefully hidden but still sprayed beneath the surface but with Lord, Elladan...his eyes were a little too cold and commanding. Too unfriendly for my liking and I was sure that I had hit off with him on the wrong foot. Me getting tangled up in a mess was sure to act in my disfavour.
"If it's for scouting and Lord Elladan put you up to it then asking me to come along isn't the best idea you've come across." His eyebrow twitched as I cut off his sentence monotony and I hastily apologised.
"Okay, sorry. You were saying."
He took a deep breath which to my chagrin was bordering dangerously on an impatient sigh.
"I've got some... business there. It is pretty harmless for I'm not ordered to scout otherwise I wouldn't have considered such an option." His slight hesitation with the word business didn't go unnoticed but I chose to not voice my concern as I stared towards him from the corner of my eye. If he thinks it's harmless then... but one can never know with him and business, really?
"Really." I had voiced out my thought, I realised as my own voice rang in my ears.
"Really." he parroted, a noticeably annoying habit he had picked up in the last few days.
"I-" I started a thousand thoughts running through my mind but I squashed them as an oversight. These days I was just overthinking too much, maybe something spontaneous was what I needed? It was decided "I would love to!"
"Thank you so much Filvendor!" I said turning towards him, letting my eyes speak for my honesty. He looked away, the subduction on his face as he tried to keep the smile off his face which was betrayed by the slight curve of his lips.
"I expect you to be ready by dawn, it's better to leave at the first light," he replied, going back to the book in his hand.
"You got it," I replied with enough enthusiasm to make him twitch. "Tho, I should think of a gift for Raforta, at least."
"Spice" replied Filvendor, "Take a bag of spice," he said and ducked just as a quill flew towards his face for his ridiculous suggestion.
Ok maybe not so ridiculous, I thought as I saw him take out two horses from the stable because in that little time and with limited (read: no) money my options were also limited but there was an elf coming with me so maybe her quenching her curiosity would be the gift enough. I smirked lightly, ducking my head behind the horse to hide it before I got up, stumbling and fumbling and pretending to ignore the snort from behind me.
We started on our journey at a fast pace which was reduced to an unseemly trod just as we went out of the vicinity of Rivendell. I shifted on my seat in impatience casting yet another glance at the serene expression of Filvendor. Deciding that we've had enough I turned towards him, the reigns of the horse grasped lightly in my left hand.
"Shouldn't we pick up the pace?" I asked my voice bordering on a snap. It was a due reaction from trotting for the past hour when we could've already travelled about thrice the distance.
"I quite like the serenity of our natural environment." he said turning towards me and his expression similar to a 'don't you agree?'. Which I did not agree with the still and hot wind beating at my face and the shirt clinging to my body with the profusion of sweat.
"No, I-" I started to reply but stopped as he came to a halt. His shoulders tensed and there was an alertness to his stance that made my skin crawl. With my eyes glued to his figure I barely made out his shout to lean left as the first orc came into my line of vision, making my stomach drop like a stone, heavy and uncomfortable in my gut.
The arrow whizzed past my ear, missing its target by mere inches as it curved into an arch and embedded the ground behind me. Filvendor had jumped into action before I could even formulate a coherent thought. His arm reached for a dagger and with a swift flick, the weapon was thrown. The next thing I saw was the corpse of the archer(the only one in their pack, as far as I could see) falling with a thud. He steered his horse towards the left. Seeing the pack moving towards him he landed on his feet before drawing his sword. My stallion neighed uncontrollably, stomping its feet in the face of the new threat. I got off before I could be thrown on the ground. I cursed as I drew the long knife, its weight feeling foreign in my hands. I had no idea how to use the weapon that could be my lifeline. It was short and curved suitable for close combat and looking at the bulky figures engaged in battle I was sure I wanted to avoid just that. My gaze sought out Filvendor who moved with the grace that could only be associated with the elvish blood running in his veins. His movements were agile and swift, slashing down his opponents with a cold commandment, barely blinking a lash. From the corner of my eye, I saw two others approaching me. I shifted the weight on my feet, took off the bag and moved away from the commotion. Desperately I rummaged into it, hands grasping at the bag of exotic spices meant for Raforta, although I was sure that after this encounter our path will be retraced. The guards had to be informed. Orcs this close to Rivendell was surely a bad news.
I threw the bag on the ground, the string of the spice pouch lose beneath my fingers and grasped the knife parallel across my arm. The orcs fastened their steps lunging for my front. I moved to the left dodging the heavy attack of the first. Twirling a bit and emerging from behind I slashed my knife at the second's arm just as the other one turned around. The cut wasn't deep but it was enough to cause hesitation on his part. The first orc, took that moment to lunge with his sword and I flicked the string of the pouch. The pouch opened towards its eyes and I only heard the cry of agony as I ducked to the right. Grasping the opportunity I slashed at its shin, cutting the flesh deep to the bone. I jerked the blade and stumbled on my feet, taking in the movement of the second orc from the corner of my eye. I barely ducked as it came barrelling towards me which might not have been the best option as the sword grazed my shoulder. With the adrenaline rushing through my veins and the heart-pounding painfully in the ribs, it came as an instinct to ignore the pain. Taking my chance I dug the knife in its hip and rolled to the side. The knife dragged across the flesh, cutting into the meat. Standing up behind him I raised the knife above my head and impaled his chest with all my might. The sickening smell of blood oozed out, the sticky substance seeping into my hands. I blinked twice, the moment of hesitation cut short as the first orc came forward. His left leg was immobilized, slowing down his movements enough to let me pull the knife out. The knife slipped out of my bloody hands. My mind went into an overdrive. I knew that I couldn't possibly pick up the knife. Grasping onto the straws my arms reached out grabbing the falling orc by the shoulders and twirling to the front pushed it with all my strength. The momentum of the incoming orc caused him to impale his own comrade. The sword came out of the other end of the chest and I scrambled for my own knife to take advantage of the moment of immobilization. Looking at the orc whose hands bend around the hilt to draw the sword from the right, I rushed to the left and spiked his neck. The blood gushed out making me gasp in terror as I took a step away from the falling bodies. The knife still jutted out from its neck as it fell on top of the other dead orc.
With no other immediate threat, I turned to look at Filvendor killing the last of the standing orc. Relief at his alive figure was immediate and engulfing as I stumbled towards him. His bloody sword was held limply in his hand as he bent down to retrieve a dagger, dragging it across the grass to clean off the blood. I was just a few steps away when suddenly his shoulders stiffened. The next thing I saw was the flick of his wrist as the dagger rushed towards the stumbling archer. I watched in horror, my body still in fear and blood cold in my veins as he turned only to stumble backward at the force of the arrow sticking just beneath his shoulder.
'At least it was shoulder' I thought, in a moment of relief which was quickly stashed at his stumble. Rushing to his side I grasped at his other arm, roving a critical eye over the wound. If the arrowhead was long then maybe... No, I shook my head. It had to be thin. If the arrowhead had penetrated the jugular vein then his arm would not survive by the time we reach Rivendell.
Don't strain on it.' I murmured, instructing him to hold his weight as I plucked the arrow that had missed me a few minutes ago. I nearly sighed in relief as I compared it to the length embedded in his shoulder. "We can get back to Rivendell, and I can treat you," I said, contemplating on the procedure. He whistled to call his horse, his face contorting as he stumbled forward. I knew that the pain would be unbearable but the way he was stumbling about. "Shards," he croaked, closing his eyes for a moment. "It has glass shards joined to its front." It took me a moment to digest the news. If the shards were small enough and could penetrate the bloodstream. My face paled at the realisation.
"We have to leave." my tone was becoming high with a sense of urgency. "We got here in an hour, on a normal pace. What if we race towards it?"
His face nestled into the horse's coat to stabilise himself. "He can get us there in twenty, no fifteen minutes." I furrowed my brow, not voicing the concern I was feeling. The bumps and furrows in the road could cause the arrow to penetrate deeper, the wound will be worse by the time we reach Rivendell but if I took out the arrow now, the bleeding will surely lead to his death, not counting the shards that will remain in his flesh. The arrow had missed its mark by a centimetre, a centimetre that can easily be replaced during our journey.
I shifted my gaze to his stumbling figure, "Can you get on the horse?" He didn't need to be told twice as he jumped on the horse, his previously elegant movements bumpy and shaking. I grabbed his arm to prevent him from falling and got up behind him. My arms snaked on his sides, one grabbing the reign and with the other putting my hand onto the unpenetrated part on the arrowhead. His hiss of agony was expected but my hand remained. "Sorry, but this is the chance I have to take." I murmured against his back.
"Get us home, Mellon nin. Get us home!" His voice, no more than a whisper, was laced with agony. The horse seemed to understand the desperation of its master because it ran like there was no tomorrow.
His pace sharpened and the sound of feet hitting the floor snapped all the elves into action. Their gaze flickered to his impatient stroll as they tightened their packs on horses. He could understand their unease at his anger but with the danger of orcs this close to Rivendell he wanted to be about and moving. When it came to those vile creatures there was nothing that could pacify his nerves. With an impatient click of his tongue, he turned to fix his sharp gaze onto the newest recruit approaching from the hill. "Where is he?" his voice was calm betraying the anger building up inside his bones at the tardiness of their specified healer. The recruit cast a wary glance towards him before snapping into attention. "Lord Elrond is with the healers, something about a new medicinal paste..." he trailed off at the narrowing of Lord Elladan's gaze, "They'll be here in less than ten minutes." he finished, giving a bow and placing the bag of Elndior, the healer and walked to stand beside his horse.
Lord Elladan cast a furtive glance at the small balcony that acted as their storage house his gaze snapping to the cot resting in the middle, the same cot that had seen the blood of too many of his comrades in recent times. His musings were cut short due to a yell from outside and with the agility and grace built into him from centuries he moved outside. All of his men were ready with their swords and he cast his eyes towards the small blob that was approaching, wondering for a moment at the confidence of the intruder.
This all was cut short, although, as the horse neared enough for their eyes to make out the slumped figure embraced in a pair of arms. He snapped to attention as it drew near snapping instructions and wandering with dread at the paleness of his friend. He opened his mouth to set instruction before a voice beat him to it, the distinct tone of Lady Lanette loud and clear above the ruckus as she descended from the horse covered in bruises and blood but casting a worried gaze over to Filvendor as they hurried him to the cot.
"Is there a healer here?" she asked, her hands already moving around to examine the wound as my lieutenant with his basic knowledge moved forward towards her. He drew her back expecting grief and panic from her eyes instead freezing as they saw cold command and authority as she demanded them to follow her lead, which everyone did, knowing from experience that such looks didn't lie.
It is then he wondered whether all that she had said previously while looking into his eyes with the fire of honesty and determination had been a lie and he couldn't help the sour taste that observation left in his mouth.
"Get me those!" I said, my voice bordering on a yell. The elves rushed him to the cot and I washed my hands from the water offered by an elf with enough sense to gauge the needs. Looking at the bag I was left hesitant. There was a small knife for surgeries (I hoped) but there was contained a large array of needles some even curved from the front. A scalpel, a tong and small pieces of metal string gave me a nearly perceptible sense of relief.
I turned on hearing his whimper, time was already running out. But the risk of surgery unsanitized was too much. "Alcohol," I asked, "Do you guys have alcohol?" Elladan was left speechless for a moment. "No, Lady Lanette, we do not indulge in such pleasures on-" His voice was cut off as a bottle of liquor was thrust into my face. The look on his face turned stony but I was glad that he refrained from talking probably from the rush of relief I felt. I washed my hands, dipped a clean handkerchief and handed it to the elf on my right, the same one who had been helping along. "I have the knowledge, but just basics," he said as if reading the question presented in my eyes. "Then you know what to do," I replied, my voice taking on the crisp demeanour I usually used during surgery. A self-defense mechanism to not get too involved.
"Shouldn't you wait for a professional-" Elladan started but was cut off by a simple condescending "Out!" from me. He didn't move but his mouth clamped shut, the lines of his face hardening in emotion.
Taking the scalpel and knife I positioned them on the top of the wound. "Grasp the shaft," I instructed, "pull it out at the first opening, do not let it sink." From the corner of my eye, I saw the nod before the knife cut into the flesh above the arrowhead. I pulled apart the side by the scalpel and he pulled out the arrow, smoothly enough to make me realise that it was not the first time. The curse that left his lips was unexpected and my gaze shifted to the shards glued to the top half of the arrowhead. "Is any piece out?" I asked, shifting to get the twister. "One. Maybe two I think." Instructing his to hold the opening I shifted closer to the wound, the shard of the glass lying tantalizingly over the torn flesh, just above the large vessel glinting in the newly found light. I shifted the forceps and saw the elf's hands twitching in hesitancy, reflecting my own jumbled feelings. If I pressed it down rather than taking it out, it could be bad, bad enough for us to resort to gruesome measures. The tongs reached just above the glass as a spurt of blood splashed on our faces. I cursed just barely, keeping my position undeterred. With a light hand, I squeezed the instrument and took out the shard. A relief of sigh nearly escaped me before my eye made out a smaller piece, barely visible but stuck behind the tissue nonetheless. The elf seemed to have noticed my gaze as a sharp breath escaped him. "You can't!" he said and as if the world itself agreed with him, another spurt of blood splashed over. Blood during operations was never a good sign. Blood after bleeding for nearly 20 minutes was always a bad sign. I took in a breath to calm the nerves that were nearly getting frazzled and said with a conviction and authority that contrasted the helplessness I was feeling inside, "We can!"
I shifted over to let some light in that range and took the chance to delve to take the piece. Everyone watched with bated breath or maybe it was just me with my breath struck somewhere my throat as I hooked the piece in the curved needle and willed it not to fall, thanking all my stars when it safely fell on the side plate with its counterpart.
There was no time for celebrating as his vitals were already in a disarray. "We need to stitch him up," I murmured thinking of the way to do this without suture. Was I really willing to take the chance with the thread? "Fire!" came a voice rushed from the doorway. I looked up to see another elf joining us in the room and from his stance, he must have been the healer. "Are you going to perform cauterization?"
He nodded and I bit my lip, knowing that with these limited resources it was the best way. "We only need to cauterize the small portion of tissue directly affected by the arrow, to prevent the internal bleeding, the rest can be healed with stitches," I said, moving around to let him take a look. I wasn't even going to wonder at the fire that appeared at a moment's notice and gulped as the scalpel heated over the flame. Filvendor was not exactly unconscious and there were no analgesics available to relieve his pain right now. I nearly gulped at the twitch of his fingers as the hot scalpel made contact with his skin, the loss of blood preventing a huge reaction but my profession forced me to assess over the situation with a stoicism that even I felt proud of. I cast a critical look over the thread and needle he had brought, their size and material too uncanny for my liking but now was not a time for contemplation, it was a time to trust the judgment of the healer more advanced in his time than me. With a swift thrust, the thread passed through the needle and without missing a beat I stitched up his wound, my hands calm with every suture. The whole ordeal was over before we knew it and I cast a worried hand over his wrist to check the pulse, finding it too irregular for my liking. His face was pale, even too pale for elves and his body had a certain quiver to it. "Something to fight the pain, and infection," I murmured, knowing that the healer will hear my words.
"Rest assured Lady Lanette," came his voice, soothing and melodic in the wake of my pounding heart and irregular breath. "I shall make sure he lives, you have done enough to ensure his survival." I cast a hesitant look over the pale figure but moved away dutifully as the healer came around the bed to paste up the herbs I knew nothing about. Seeing him at work I relented, it wasn't as if I knew anything about the medicine. It was time to sit back and let the professional do his duty peacefully, I had done all that I possibly could've. I was just glad rhat he was sure enough that he would live. It was all the confirmation I required right now.
I turned, only to come face to face with Lord Elladan. His face was unreadable as ever and there were serene surroundings to him that made the hair on my neck stand up, Although the same quality in the other elves left me speechless with awe, his strong personality left me speechless in fear and apprehension. He wordlessly led me outside, letting my half partner tend to the few wounds I had received. The cuts and bruises, the pain of which was previously masked by the adrenaline pumping through my veins were becoming magnified as the effect wore off.
It wasn't until the elves were bustling about and Lord Elrond had arrived to take a look, commanding the elves with ease of a practised leader that I was left alone with Lord Elladan. I stared at the flora blooming on the horizon, too tired and achy to begin a conversation.
"I see that you are not a lady of your words?" came his soft voice, cutting like steel through my musings. I turned my head towards him, my eyes roving over his features. His face was calm, serene even, betraying nothing of his emotions. "What?" I asked, not quite registering his meaning. His eyes shifted towards me, two pale orbs that were laking of the soft care of the elven race.
"You said that you were not practised in the medicinal arts." The realisation dawned on my face as our previous conversation flashed through my mind. I turned my head away, uttering a soft sigh. "I didn't lie, Lord Elladan," I started mashing up the grass under my feet, "I'm a doctor," I said, looking up into his eyes, letting my honesty be self-explanatory through my eyes, "not a healer of Middle-Earth."
He contemplated my answer with the same blank look and I almost turned away before that commanding voice spoke from behind me.
"Then Lady Lanette," said the voice of Lord Elrond, "is it not time that you became both?"
The sudden tensing of my shoulders spoke for itself. A hesitant smile found its way on my face as I turned back to face him. My mind was in an overdrive, my conversation with Filvendor replaying through. I had wanted a starting point, something to point at the start of the journey I was going to partake in and what better way to start it than the field that can become my biggest asset in survival.
Therefore, when I turned my face towards Lord Elrond, my eyes spoke for themselves as I thought, 'Not a bad idea, Lord Elrond.'
'Not a bad idea at all!'
To be continued...