Merry Christmas to All :-)
With a sigh, Earlene considered that they had a guest, that she had told Thanadir ages ago that she was heading to a destination she had never reached, and that as much as she still desired the attentions of her husband, she was on the verge of being physically drained. Bright blue eyes appeared over her face, hovering there. "You are feeling inclined to behave responsibly, meluieg?" he said mischievously.
Earlene laughed. "That is my usual inclination, my King. Though, I am grateful that this once, you led me astray. I needed this. I needed you. Thank you," she said, looking on him with open adoration.
"I am not done with you yet, wife," he said with eyes full of desire. "But I will concede that good manners dictate we should return." He lifted her easily to his arms and hugged her to him, rocking her. "I love you very much, Earlene."
Oh, how she did not wish to leave! But it was time, and there was the promise of more, later. "Len aníron," (I want you) she whispered, to feel his hold on her tighten a little more.
He smiled. "There is something else I must tell you. Lorna has had another...ordeal, today, that is private. We should treat her with extra kindness."
Earlene blinked at him, her mind already deducing. "And I had to pick today to add to your burdens, didn't I? I am so sorry, my Lord. I hope you understand, I was not trying to keep these things from you. I think I was trying to keep them from myself. I did not mean to have such bad timing."
"Meluieg, no...please do not think this way. I feel guilt, to have been caring for another while you were in pain."
She shook her head. "No. Do not. This was like...a boil, an infection. It chose its own time to burst; neither of us had any say in the matter." She gently pushed away, before leaning back toward him for one last kiss before dressing herself. "I will look forward to later, my Lord."
Lorna woke disoriented, at first not recognizing the cloud-soft pillow beneath her cheek. She was nice and warm, having been laid beside a fire, and it eased the strange ache in her chest.
The weird thing was that it wasn't an unpleasant ache - it felt rather like a wound had been lanced, and left her lighter. She'd felt rather the same thing when Thranduil and Thanadir took the rage from her: hollow, almost, but not in a bad way. The fact that she had a kitten sleeping under her chin no doubt helped her feel better.
She was beyond grateful, and yet part of her was disturbed - her rage and her grief had been part of her, in some measure and from various causes, her entire remembered life. Without them, who was she? What was she? At thirty-nine years old, she was going to have to adapt to a very large change. The thought was intriguing, but it was also scary as hell. At least she'd have help figuring everything out.
For so much of her life, she'd blundered on full-speed ahead, with little thought to what might happen if she failed. She was too old to be doing that now, though; if she fell off a metaphorical cliff, she'd land hard, and she was no longer young enough to bounce. She wanted to figure out who and what she was, but she didn't want to go changing anything in ways that weren't her. She was a tiny ex-con with a filthy mouth, who had said and done some things both horrible and wonderful. She still had the temper of an Irishwoman - she was just no longer in any danger of resorting to violence unless it was offered to her first. Calling someone a gobshite and telling them to get fucked was quite a step back from braining them with a pint mug for looking at her funny.
She sat up enough to look into the fire, pensive, lifting the kitten onto her lap and wrapping her blanket around her. The kitten woke up long enough to yawn, then curled up on her lap and fell right asleep again. While the thought of Liam and their accident was never going to be pleasant, Thranduil was right - it was a distant thing, no longer crippling.
Who am I? she wondered - and then, because Mairead was a Les Miserables fan and because her own brain was ridiculous, it responded with, I'm Jean Valjean!
The thought made her burst out laughing, and she brushed her fringe out of her face. Oh god dammit, now she was never getting that song out of her head. Ever. She hoped Thranduil liked show tunes, because he was going to be subjected to them whether either of them liked it or not.
Her stomach chose that moment to gurgle, making its demands for food quite well-known. Why she should be so hungry, she didn't know; maybe whatever Thranduil had done burned through the calories, even though she'd been still, or maybe she'd been asleep longer than she thought. Could she find the kitchens? She was pretty sure none of the elves besides Thranduil and Thanadir spoke English (and come to that, how did Thranduil become so fluent? She was pretty sure Thanadir hadn't known much - if any - before Earlene turned up...had Thranduil learned it just by telepathy?) That...was a fairly big accomplishment. English was such a weird bastard of a language that it was little wonder so many people had a hard time learning it. Then again, elves seemed to be some kind of linguistic geniuses, given how fast Thanadir had picked it up even in the brief time she'd known him.
How would she hack it, when it came to Sindarin? Lorna was one of those people who had an ability to understand a new language without an insane amount of difficulty, but as soon as you asked her to speak in it, it all went out the window. Tatiana's rather scary tutoring was the only reason she could actually speak Russian aloud at all.
Christ, she needed food. She stood, and nearly choked on her own spit when she realized Thanadir had been there the entire time. "Sweet merciful Christ," she said, her heart lurching. "You lot are too quiet for humans." The kitten, naturally, had to scale her chest; thankfully, she always wore at least two layers of shirts outside of summer, so it didn't hurt nearly so much as it would have otherwise.
She eyed him. Did it make her shallow, that she wasn't attracted to any of the elves? Was she really so narrow-minded, that the fact that they were so pale automatically put her off? The answer was probably 'yes'. It disturbed her that she could be so shallow, but it also made her worry: there was, after all, always a chance Ratiri was the same way, and preferred someone who looked like...oh, Siobhan. Should he, she could hardly fault him for it, especially given the way she was herself...hell. She wished she looked like Earlene.
She thought of Earlene with a pang of...not jealousy, because she liked Earlene too much to ever be jealous of her...but, well, Earlene was beautiful. There was no grey in her glossy dark hair, and her skin hadn't seen the kind of sun and wind Lorna's had. She was tall and she had a perfect figure, and she was basically everything Lorna wasn't.
And the thing was, until recently, Lorna hadn't cared. What she looked like was of little consequence; she didn't want men to notice her, so it was just as well that none did. Save for when she'd been with Liam, she'd always been one of the lads, and she'd enjoyed it. True, she'd been a lad with very long hair, but still.
Ugh, she couldn't think of this right now. Not when she was so hungry. "Could you take me to the kitchens, Thanadir? I'm about ready to eat the sofa, I'm that hungry."
Previously unnoticed by her, there had been a small bowl of fruit on a sideboard, and the elf immediately moved to begin slicing an apple. "The King and Earlene will be here shortly, and now that you have woken I will go to return with food. No one has eaten. But here is something so that His Majesty's sofa can remain uneaten." He smirked while handing her the plate. Of course all the apple slices were arranged in a perfect pinwheel pattern and were meticulously uniform in size. Elves. "Please excuse me, I will not need long."
Thanadir swept out of the room, nearly crashing into Earlene, who had a very guilty look on her face. However, seeing no censure in Thanadir's smile, she relaxed a little as she passed him. The "Queen" routine meant nothing to her; she knew perfectly well who actually kept this little empire, as well as her husband, on an even keel. "i Hîr nîn," (my Lord) she said to him respectfully, having decided that it was ridiculous to keep on unvaryingly with the heavily Anglicized "Your Excellency". Someday she would have to ask Thranduil where on earth he'd picked that one up. Now that she realized that the title had no Sindarin equivalent, that he had chosen to initially instruct her to say that to Thanadir made little sense to her. Though, to be fair, given the amount of effort that had gone into her just trying to remember 'i Aran nîn', could she really blame him? At any rate, his amused yet appreciative expression as he nodded his head in acknowledgement of her address at least told her that she had managed an appropriate choice. There was little doubt in her mind that an incorrect phrase would have met with a kind but immediate correction.
"Gelialennol vaer, Earlene" (You learned well, Earlene), Thranduil said approvingly.
"Defin, i Aran nîn", (I try, my King) she said with humility, before moving along so she could see her friend. "How are you today, Lorna? I'm fried and starving and am having predatory thoughts about Mairead's cake. Or a hot bath. A little of both, actually." She smiled and hoped that her humor was worth a damn just now.
Lorna tried to repeat the words under her breath, and of course her accent made a complete hash of all of them. "I'm better than I was," she said honestly, looking up at Earlene. "Your little friend here took a nap with me." The kitten had decided her shoulder was a perfect place to perch - which wouldn't have been an issue, except it had also burrowed its way into her hair, and was now purring like a tiny chainsaw in her left ear. Oh well. Cats were cute, it was how they got away with everything up to and including actual murder. "I'm just about starving too, though." She had no-so-discreetly managed to eat half the apple slices on the plate in very short order, but at least had enough manners not to lick her sticky fingers.
Earlene glanced at the plate. "I'd keep eating, if I were you. Don't tell me. Thanadir sliced the apple?" she asked with poorly concealed amusement and a sigh. "I think there is probably….nothing, he can't do perfectly."
"That isn't true, meluieg. There is at least one thing."
"Oh?" Earlene asked with a general tone of disbelief.
Thranuil noted that even Lorna looked highly interested in the answer...though he tried not to laugh as she surreptitiously ferried another apple slice to her mouth. Lorna, just eat the apple. None of us think less of you for being hungry, he said with mock sternness as he looked at her. "I will tell you but only if both of you promise never to let him know. At least, insofar as you have any control over the matter. He is still rather sensitive about it." The nodding heads from both women both gave their assent. With a grin, he continued, lowering his voice. "Thanadir cannot bake to save his life. During the most recent...era, when he and I were the last to fade, there was a brief time when we both still required food. Every day for two weeks he occupied the kitchens, trying to make heads or tails of dough and the stoves, and every day something resembling what I believe your kind calls 'hard tack' was the result. Any of your biscuits have been airy clouds by contrast, Earlene. There is a reason he enjoys your food as much as he does," he said, his eyes twinkling.
Earlene's lips parted. Baking is easy, she thought. Well okay maybe not easy, there is some knowledge and art involved, but it hardly requires a degree in aerospace engineering...poor Thanadir.
Lorna didn't quite choke on her apple slice, but it was a near thing. Jesus, even she could bake - not very well, mind you, nothing fancy, but her food was edible and even sometimes enjoyable. Part of her felt quite terrible for being relieved that Thanadir wasn't perfect, but, relieved she was.
She polished off the last of the apple, giving Thranduil a mock glower as she did so. He really did seem to enjoy winding her up - but then, she did make it a bit easy, and she didn't particularly mind. Big Jamie did the same thing - Thranduil was just better at it, and she blamed at least part of that on his eyebrows. With them, he was capable of facial expressions Big Jamie just couldn't pull off. It probably wasn't a talent he was aware he had...well, until now. Oops.
Laughing, Thranduil was saved from going further astray by the arrival of Thanadir, who bore a large tray of meats, breads and cheeses; there was also something that strongly resembled a beet and cabbage salad. Earlene was happy to see this, as it meant that the vegetables she'd ordered were actually being used and eaten. That and, she really liked beets and cabbage. The table was set and Lorna was pointedly encouraged to sacrifice manners and begin eating. Though, Thranduil's comment that just this once, they wouldn't tell her Gran almost earned him a kick under the table. Almost.
"So, I've got more news from Niamh," she said, at least managing not to chew and talk at the same time. "She's found a doctor who'll do exams for the ID's, and who won't ask any questions if we throw enough money at her. Downside's that she's in Dublin, so it's a bit'v a drive." She didn't look at Thanadir, but she didn't too. Dublin was almost two hours away, most of it on the motorway; she really needed an excuse to get him to drive around the village with her first - one that wouldn't offend his pride. As for Thranduil...yikes. With his telepathy, and Dublin being...Dublin...he might have an issue, too. They'd probably both be wanting a drink by the end of the day - hell, they all might.
The kitten chose that moment to creep down her arm, cross the table, and hop onto Earlene's lap, purring all the while. How such a tiny thing could make such a loud noise, Lorna had no idea, but she wanted one. If only she was able to take care of one...her jobs being what they were, she might well be away from home days at a time.
"Not on the table, Tail!" Earlene said in horror as the little fluffball plopped into her lap. "I am sorry," she said, even though there was no way anyone could have stopped it. She needn't have worried, because Thranduil was too busy shaking with suppressed laughter at the look on Thanadir's face. Amused, the King broke off a small tidbit of meat and offered it to the kitten. Earlene's eyes widened. My Lord, you will teach him to expect human food while we are eating, if you do that. With respect, I sincerely...discourage this. She felt helpless...it was soooo not her place to correct him here, but she'd spent hours reading on what not to do with a pet cat and this was close to the top of the list. A light frown passed over Thranduil's face, which she caught. At least I managed not to say it aloud.
So you did. He sighed. I suppose you are right. Though, what is the point of them if they cannot be spoiled a little?
Earlene decided it was wise to completely avoid answering. "How far away is Dublin, Lorna? Will it be possible to care for the appointment and meeting with Niamh on the same day? That would be wonderful….I hate to have you carting us all over Ireland yet I see little alternative."*
"Close to two hours, depending on traffic," Lorna said. Less, if I drive like normal, she thought, but she wasn't about to say that aloud. "I'm sure we can do both the same day. Niamh got really accommodating once I threw money at her." She hadn't actually heard that specific tone on...well, anyone, once Lorna told her that cost was no object, followed by a thousand euros as a retainer. "I'll try to get my hands on something better than Mick's van, but I'm not sure what else I'd find that'd seat all'v you comfortably." Much as she'd always been unhappy about her lack of height, at least she didn't have an uncomfortable time sitting in cramped places. Liam, one drunken evening, had said, You're not small, you're storage-compatible. How odd it was, to think of that memory without it hurting.
"I thought the van was fine. It ran and it's local; hard to ask for much more than that without having to get ridiculous and buy our own vehicle that you'd still get stuck driving everywhere. Were you comfortable in it, Thranduil?"
The King nodded. "Obviously I have no other experience for comparison, but I can tell you that it is considerably more comfortable than an elk or a horse."
Earlene put her improvised sandwich down for a moment, because...well, she'd never thought about that. Not remotely. There are times I wish there was wine here, she thought, with a light shake to her head.
"There is wine here," said Thranduil aloud. "Would you like to try some?"
Earlene stared at him. "There is? How could...oh, never mind. If it won't make me grow a third hand, yes, I would. I like wine. Do you drink wine, Lorna?" Earlene realized that this had never exactly come up in conversation; she just assumed everyone in Ireland would rather have beer or something stronger yet.
Lorna didn't actually make grabby-hands, but she thought about it really hard. "Sometimes," she said. "Big Jamie's not so big on it, but there's a few in the village that like a glass of an evening. I couldn't much tell you a good wine from a bad, though, unless it's straight vinegar. Mairead bought some when she and Kevin had their fifteenth anniversary, and I thought it tasted like cough syrup. Not that that was a bad thing," she added. She'd actually been quite proud of herself for not getting into the bottle later and drinking the whole thing.
Thanadir spoke. "i Aran nîn, sa inc ma? Ti firith." (My King, is that a good idea? They are mortals)
It took Earlene a moment to puzzle out what was said, and then her eyebrows arched. Then again, assuming her husband did not wish to kill her, he probably had a plan. And Lorna could probably drink pure ethanol and still go dancing. But, she decided to simply ignore that Thanadir had actually said anything.
"Ú-gosto, Thanadir" (Fear not, Thanadir). Standing and going to the sideboard, he broke open a sealed bottle of wine. He poured a tiny amount into two glasses. As in, about an ounce each, before filling two other glasses.
"I am letting you taste it as we drink it, because I know you are curious. Beyond this, though, I cannot provide it in good conscience without first watering it down. Even for you, Lorna, this will be very, very strong. Its properties go beyond alcohol content, shall we say?" He placed the glasses in front of them.
"Why do I feel like I am being handed a chemistry experiment?" Earlene asked. After what she'd just heard, she basically decided that the safest thing would be to simply wet her lips in order to gain a taste of it. Raising the glass, she smelled it and was immediately astonished. While she was used to the complexities of wine, this was amazing. It was as if grapes and berries and flowers and wood flavors and the entire wine universe was all in there. It had a deep, dense burgundy color and she did not know if she should be worried that it had an astonishing opacity. And the flavor was...trouble. It was delicious beyond anything that she had ever tasted and god she wanted more...but felt afraid. But she just had to have more of it. She had to. She let herself swallow half of what was there, savoring the incredible taste. Looking up at Lorna, she was curious to see her reaction.
Being thirty-nine rather than nineteen, Lorna didn't just slam it back right off. She followed Earlene's example and tasted it, bit by bit, and immediately wished she could have an entire damn barrel of it. If this was what wine was supposed to be like, she didn't wonder why so many spent so much time rattling on about it. And then it kicked her right in the teeth.
She'd always been a fan of the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series, and before she registered what left her mouth, she said, "Is this like a real-life Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster?" Holy shit, her head hadn't felt this floaty since she was a teenager - half like the top of her skull was trying to unscrew itself, and yet it was not at all an unpleasant sensation. It wasn't quite like being properly drunk, either; warmth traveled through her veins, like liquid sunshine, leaving her more at peace with the world than she'd been in ages. She was so relaxed in her chair she felt a bit like a noodle.
Earlene immediately began giggling. "Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster? I haven't heard that one in years. Lorna, do you remember the Vogon poetry? 'And hooptiously drangle me with crinkly bindlewurdles, or else I'll rend thee in the gobberwarts with my blurglecruncheon, see if I don't!" At this point the giggles morphed into nearly uncontrollable laughter; Earlene was having trouble catching her breath. "And Marvin the Robot? 'Brain the size of a planet, and all I get to do is open doors?' "
Earlene might have registered that Thanadir was shaking his head in dismay, if her eyes had not been clouded by the tears of laughter running down her cheeks. It was a full-blown episode of hysterical mirth. "O freddled gruntbuggly," piped Earlene, laughing harder still. Thranduil swiftly removed the glass from his wife as he caught the seneschal's frosty look that said 'I tried to warn you.'
Lorna burst out laughing. "And the whale," she said. "The whale and the petunias that thought 'oh no, not again'. I want to go to the restaurant at the end of the universe." It normally took a very, very large amount of alcohol to get her truly drunk, with the result that she rarely had been in her life. Now, however, she was completely ossified, and so relaxed she was close to boneless - which meant that when she twisted around in her chair so she could rest her feet on the back, she nearly slithered right off and onto the floor. "Though I bet they don't have a decent cheeseburger, all that way from any planet with a self-respecting cow." The thought only made her laugh harder, even as she struggled to untangle herself from the mess that was her own hair. Rather like a spiderweb, it had caught her - and unfortunately, her attempts only led her to fall right out of her chair after all.
"Oops," she said, still too much of a noodle to even register anything like pain. "That was-" She hauled herself to her feet, more or less, and blinked hard. Everything appeared to be very gently rocking, like a ship at sea, her balance completely shot. "What the hell's in that wine?" she asked, giving Thranduil as suspicious a look as she was actually capable of, under the current circumstances. "It's like...special brownies, only, y'know, wine." She dissolved into laughter all over again, and got the fantastic idea to haul herself up over the back of her chair - fortunately, she was light enough that she didn't just tip the whole thing over. She did, however, get stuck like that briefly, unable to go forward or back, eventually pitching head-first onto the seat. "...I meant to do that," she said, through a fit of giggles.
Openly glaring at his King, Thanadir rose and gently guided Lorna back into her chair. "Boe annon nen andin" (It is necessary to give them water) he said to Thranduil, who was genuinely surprised that the miniscule amount had so swiftly yielded this result. Earlene had mostly dried her tears and was beginning to manage intervals during which she didn't laugh, until she exclaimed "Forty-two!" after which both women immediately started up with fresh peals of mirth. Thranduil hastened to pour them water into unbreakable drinking vessels, encouraging both of them to drink. Thanadir deduced that the key to success would come from getting each of them to stop reflecting on their shared humor, since they were obviously egging each other on to new rounds of laughter. He turned Lorna's chair so that she had to look at him, and waited until she could listen to his instructions to drink the water. Thranduil saw, and did likewise with Earlene. And nobody noticed that Tail took the opportunity to jump back onto the table, and was now standing in the center of the platter of food, happily chewing on a long slice of roasted meat. It took the better part of five minutes for the water to be consumed, but afterward Lorna and Earlene sat quietly with only brief and occasional eruptions of humor. Their faces were plastered with beatific smiles as they both took renewed interest in their food.
With wide eyes Thranduil was the first to notice the kitten, which he whisked into one hand (meat slice and all), and placed on the floor before his seneschal could catch sight of it, counting himself extremely fortunate that he had escaped detection. When Thanadir finally did return to his meal, he immediately drained two thirds of his glass in one swallow. Right about the same time, Earlene sat up and said to her friend, "You brought cake!"
"I did," Lorna said, still weaving a little even where she sat. "It's a Mairead cake, so it's extra good, and at least it's big." She was utterly starving again - why did elf wine give you the munchies? Did it have some of the same properties as weed? If so, no bloody wonder the elves liked it so much. She wondered if it would be possible to duplicate the effect with some substance that wouldn't, you know, kill them if they had more than a sip or two. Unfortunately, despite all her connections, she didn't know anyone with the background in chemistry that would be needed to figure that one out. "Would this - okay," she said, looking at Thranduil, who still appeared as though he were rocking slightly, "if this was like, diluted and baked into brownies, would it still get people drunk without poisoning anyone? Because it would make some seriously tasty brownies." The richness of the wine, with its trace of sweetness that wasn't too much, would go fantastically with chocolate, and there was so much alcohol in it that she doubted it would all bake out.
Thanadir rolled his eyes. He did not need to ask what a 'brownie' was to understand that this had been a terrible decision.
Clearing his throat while trying to maintain his waning (if not outright tenuous) hold on the dignity of his table, Thranduil opted to change the subject. "I shall serve the cake," he declared, noting that Thanadir had finished his meal and that Earlene was idly sweeping her finger across her plate, mopping up crumbs to lift to her lips. He un-boxed it carefully and cut into it as he'd seen Mairead do previously. Holding the knife at the angle for the second cut, he looked at his seneschal questioningly, asking silently if the slice was large enough, and sighed as he moved the knife in an ever widening angle until the subtle frown transformed into the hint of a smile. I will never hear the end of this, thought the King, even though no words will ever be spoken. Transferring the substantial slab onto a plate, he passed it over to Thanadir's waiting hands before slicing much smaller servings for the women. For himself he took the barest shaving and placed it on a plate; he fully intended to have several glasses of wine instead.
"Oooh, custard filling!" declared Earlene. "It's a shame that Mairead doesn't run the bakery, no disrespect intended to your friend Siobhan. Do you know, I thought the chocolate syrup she used in those buns could have been of a far better quality?" Just at that moment, she heard a vaguely strangled noise come from her husband but elected to ignore it...the cake was too delicious and she was still starving.
Lorna, naturally, went and straight-up inhaled half her cake at that, hacking like a deranged TB patient as she fought to bring up the crumbs. Even now, she had just enough presence of mind to do her best not to actually waste her slice, because that would be a crime. "Given some'v the things she'd like to use that syrup for, I'm surprised it wasn't," she said, in between coughs. She'd somehow got frosting on her nose and her chin, and trying to wipe it off just succeeded in smearing it further. "Apparently she can get a bit...creative, though I still maintain there's places syrup just shouldn't go. According to Molly, her term is 'chocolate popsicle'." She tried not looking at Thranduil - she really did, but she couldn't help it, and then she was choking and laughing at the same time, tears springing to her eyes as a stitch developed in her side. At least she managed to say no more than that, and thus avoided embarrassing Thranduil or Earlene any further (though she wondered, as she wheezed, if he was actually capable of blushing or not).
Earlene paused, her fork hovering over her cake. Thranduil looked sideways with trepidation as Earlene's analytical mind flared to life. Even under the influence of the elven wine, she did not miss a thing. Looking up to assure herself that Thanadir showed no signs of looking on in her mind at this exact moment, her gaze returned to her cake. She sent one thought only to her husband: Busted. Whether he knew that idiom or not remained to be seen, as the corners of her mouth barely turned up in a smile. Aloud, and with a completely straight face she said, "well, it's good cake, and there is certainly nothing wrong with a well-made cream filling." Before anyone could react, Earlene deftly changed the subject. "Lorna, who was the handsome man you were chatting up at the pub, is he someone you know?"
Thranduil silently rose to pour himself another glass of wine, returning with the bottle of it to the table as Earlene looked on in silent envy. It had been almost cruel, to be allowed to taste something so wonderful that she so obviously could not have without the consequence of an early demise.
Well-made cream filling...of course that set Lorna off again, though this time she managed to contain herself soon enough. She was still giggling, however, when she wiped her face with a very nice napkin, and managed to speak. "I'd just met him," she said, sipping water to clear the last of the crumbs from her throat. "He's Doc Barry's cousin. Hasn't got any idea how to talk to women, but I don't know how to talk to men, either, so we're even there. I actually want to talk to him," she added. "I haven't wanted to talk to a bloke in years, not like that. There's something...something about him." It was quite apart from the fact that he was bloody gorgeous, too; she'd seen her share of attractive men over the years, but he was the first one she'd wanted to get to know. She was actually rather relieved Ratiri could be so awkward; it meant she wasn't alone. "He's a doctor himself, apparently, though he didn't say why he'd come to Baile, I get the feeling there's something he's leaving behind." There were only so many things I needed a change could mean, after all. "If I knew more about him, I'd ask him to do the exam on these two, and save the lot of you from a trip to Dublin. If he's too observant, though, he'll notice too many things that don't add up for you two to be human, and that'd be...well, I don't know if it'd be bad or not, but I'd rather not risk it. Dublin'll be...well, it'll be an experience, but it's safer." Even now, she was giggling every so often - just more quietly.
Calling Dublin 'safer' than anything was a bit hilarious, but it really would be an experience. It wasn't that she was afraid the elves couldn't take care of themselves - what she feared was that they could do it too well. Humans were, after all, quite fragile compared to elves; one too-hard punch could probably break some bastard's face.
We are more than capable of not leaving a swath of destruction in our wake, Lorna. There was a hint of irritability to his tone, which hardly seemed reasonable since he was on what, his third glass of that miracle elixir? Lorna rolled her eyes.
Earlene spoke. "When do you think we'll be able to do this, Lorna? It sounds like this will be an all-day adventure. Do you know how, erm, thorough of an exam this is likely to be?" Earlene knew enough to know what places a health exam on a male could include and did not envy the ellyn the idea of fingers. There.
You've never been to Dublin, Lorna said. The destruction might find you, whether you like it or not. You only think you've seen drunk Irish people on a rampage. If you don't believe me, take a look at some of my teenage memories. Aloud, she said, "Niamh said any time in the next week'd be good, since the doc knows we've got money. From what she's said, it's not that invasive - no 'turn your head and cough' sort've thing. The just want to make sure the person's healthy, doesn't have a heart murmur or anything like that. Peeing in a jar to check kidney function's probably the most invasive thing you've got to worry about." Fortunately. While she figured both elves could put up with a more, uh, thorough exam, they'd hate it, and she wouldn't blame them. Some things were their own special brand of hell. At least they'd never, ever have to deal with a pelvic exam. The mere thought made her twitch.
"Well, then, my King, what day do you think would be best? Most human institutions function on having appointments in advance; we should schedule as soon as possible for the sake of orderliness."
At the word "orderliness," a smile broke out on Thanadir's face, and Earlene worked very hard not to burst into more giggles. While the effects of the wine were ebbing fast, she was not yet free of its grip. Averting her eyes, she focused instead on her last bite of cake.
Thranduil was now halfway down his fourth glass, and appeared completely unaffected by the beverage. Truthfully, his mind was currently occupied by the disturbing imagery of rectal and pelvic exams he had just seen in the two women. In what barbarity did these humans engage? he wondered to himself. "You choose, Lorna. As you are the one who must drive us, it makes far more sense that we bend our time around your availability."
"Mick's not got anything on the books tomorrow," Lorna said, still giggling a bit. "I'll see if I can get us in tomorrow afternoon or so. If I throw enough money at this doctor, I'm sure she'll do whatever the hell I want." Heading into Dublin in the afternoon also meant the traffic wouldn't be too heinous, and if they got out soon enough, there wouldn't be rush hour on the way back, either. It wasn't just the elves' nerves she was worried about, either - driving like an actual sane person was surprisingly difficult for her, and managed to set her on edge. All her aggressive instincts clamored to be let free, but with passengers, she just couldn't be that much of an asshole, even if two of them hadn't been quite new to driving in general.
"So just to clarify; doctor, meet with Niamh who then can presumably be able to file this paperwork, and...Lorna, you need to tell us of any expenses you are paying. You aren't to be using your salary to cover anything at all for us...petrol, clothing you end up buying...anything. And I wondered, my Lord, if Lorna and I could return to the cottage after lunch to discuss...human things."
Thranduil's eyes narrowed at his inability to easily see what 'human things' amounted to, but as the beginnings of his fifth and final glass of wine had finally mellowed him (final, only because the bottle was now emptied), he consented. A barrage of very rapid Sindarin from Thanadir commenced as he began to clear the table. Earlene was beginning to suspect more than a little that as she gained in ability, the two of them were deliberately speaking faster and faster when they wished her to not understand. Which made no sense, as they still had telepathy but...elves.
"Sounds right," Lorna said, eying the empty bottle. Someday, she wanted to experiment with watering it down, and see what happened. "I've not told Niamh anything but that I've got two ID-less men and I can pay for her to get them whatever they need. She shouldn't go asking any personal questions, even if she's curious." Which she probably would be; even to one who didn't know the elves weren't human, there was something just...different about them, something indefinable but almost palpable. Human things...she wasn't sure what that meant, but in conjunction with their current conversation, she was afraid it had something to do with pelvic exams, oh god. No, Lorna hadn't had one in twenty years, nor was she going to ever have another one, thanks so much. There were things that went in places things like that just shouldn't go, and all of them were cold, and she had no idea why any woman would do that more than once.
"Then we will excuse ourselves; thank you very much for the lunch, Thanadir, and the cake, Lorna." With a gesture for Lorna to follow, they departed, leaving the two elves to...whatever important business was at hand. When they were out of the warren of tunnels and into the main cavern of Thranduil's Hall, Earlene finally spoke. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to not think about Zaphod Beeblebrox around a telepath? I mean, I'm guessing you do, but…." her giggles pealed through the otherwise vast and silent chamber, causing a few random elves to look up from their occupations and smile. The mortals were interesting, and well-thought of.
"I've given up trying to not think'v any certain thing around Thranduil," Lorna said. "It only means I wind up thinking'v it in more detail than I would otherwise. I'm glad my brain amuses him, because I've got no control over it whatsoever. I think the term is 'word vomit'." It was much better that he start laughing than start looking ill, or irritated. She wasn't actually sure what the hell she was going to do, should she and Ratiri ever actually manage something...she thought Ratiri was quite pretty, but she doubted Thranduil would be terribly thrilled by whatever appreciative thoughts she had about the man.
It was a swift walk through a pleasantly sunny afternoon back through the woods to the cottage, while they chatted and laughed more about favorite science fiction books and shows they'd both enjoyed. The aftermath of it involved a promise to have a movie night with buttered popcorn and Monty Python and the Holy Grail, elves or no elves. Where "Hitchhiker's Guide" cracks and jokes left off, movie quotes began until the two of them rolled inside, having laughed until it was becoming painful. By mutual agreement, they set aside the topic before they both needed over the counter pain relievers to manage their aching sides.
"So the not so big-deal reason I wanted to return here is to finally make good on the Sindarin, if you're still in any kind of a mood to take a look at it. I was hoping that they'd stay in the Halls because….for all they obviously speak it better than I do, they don't entirely understand what it's like for a native English speaker to tackle it. I'm quite possibly being an idiot, but I thought I'd have a better chance of explaining it to you while being less intimidating. Though, I have to say, Thanadir is one hell of a tutor. Thranduil is of course brilliant, but he doesn't stay as focused and disciplined like Thanadir does when he's teaching, and he can also get a little more impatient. Thanadir, no matter how badly I'm screwing up, never takes a misstep but...god he can be stern and demanding, and I always feel like I'd rather die than disappoint him or waste his time. That's my short two cents on the elves and their comparative tutoring skills, anyway. And the last thing? No matter how often I remind or beg the two of them to speak slower around me so I can hear them, they forget. That or they're speeding up deliberately, hell if I know."
"Thanadir sounds like Tatiana," Lorna said. "She was my cellmate in prison, and she taught me Russian. Every time I got something wrong, she'd smack my knuckles, until I gave up and lamped her out. Not a solution that would work with Thanadir." Even if it would work - if it probably wouldn't hurt herself rather than him - he just had that face. She could easily see Thranduil getting a bit cranky, too - the problem with having someone who was genius at something was that they didn't properly comprehend why something that was easy for them wasn't that easy for everyone else. Her eyes narrowed. "Speeding it up? If we can speak it aloud enough, they won't be able to get away with that for long."
"I'll confess that speaking it is my weakest skill" she quipped while setting the kettle on to heat. "I do better with what I can see on paper in front of me, and the sounds they have and the rules of pronunciation are of course...well, you'll see." She gestured for Lorna to sit at the sofa, reasoning that they currently had the entire coffee table free for spreading out papers. An intimidating stack of papers and books hit the table with a plunk. Earlene sat, and pulled out a few things. "Though I've been rubbish at getting together with you about this, I did plan well enough to get you your own materials started. The two main things here are a large printout that covers nearly all the relevant grammar, and a dictionary. What do you have for a computer...is there a laptop or notebook you have to use? Because if not, you'll need one of those too."*
"I've got a laptop," Lorna said, eying the papers. "It's at Mick's right now." Okay, this was a lot to take in, but she could do it. Typed things weren't really an issue for her anymore; she might read a bit more slowly than normal, but not by a very great deal. So long as she kept plugging along every night once she'd got home (or rather, back to Mick's flat) she'd be able to get through it in a fairly reasonable amount of time. The alphabet for Sindarin would be another story entirely, but she'd imagine everyone had some level of trouble with that. It wouldn't look odd if she just had a bit more than most.
"There are other papers here too. One is a chart of their alphabet. The others are verb charts; shortcut reminders to how to conjugate verbs in the various tenses...but they are only general guides because of course there are exceptions. And I'm going to totally back up here. I'm used to thinking about information in a certain kind of way. I don't expect that you do. Don't worry about what you might not have learned yet; it makes no difference. We will start wherever we have to. Did you get along with grammar, in school? If I go on about participles and adverbs and the like, does that work?" Earlene suddenly felt awash in waves of awkwardness, because there was absolutely zero truly good way to ask someone about their level of education without coming off like a goddamn snob. But at the same time, she had to have some idea of where they were beginning; it wouldn't help either of them if she was speaking Greek the entire time she tried to explain this shite.
"I know nouns and adverbs and that," Lorna said, neglecting to mention that she'd learned it all in prison, not school. "Participles...not so much. I went to school in the shitty south end'v Dublin - our teachers weren't that worried about what we learned or didn't learn." And she'd left school at fourteen, but even if she hadn't, she doubted she would have learned that much. "They didn't figure any'v us would grow up to need to know that much. None'v us were going to be doctors or the like." Unbeknownst to Earlene, Lorna was feeling rather awkward, too, because there was no way Earlene could understand the school system of 80's Dublin, and how little almost everyone had cared about the kids on the south side.
"Ok, no problem. By tomorrow I'll have a printout for a reference list of parts of speech that will include examples of what-in-hell is meant, in plain English. Unfortunately, this being an offbeat and supposedly invented language, the only worthwhile grammars out there explain themselves as though you know all that already. And I've got to warn you too, there are a lot of crap websites out there, which just makes it harder to tell the ones that are worth looking at from those that aren't." She stood up to head off the kettle, which was about ready to shriek. "The only other thing to say just now is, come at this without caring about it too much. It's got some quirks that are going to send you straight down the bottle of your strongest stuff if you go at it like I did, feeling like I had to have it all learned in a week. There are fun exercises that just involve short phrases, things people actually say to each other...take in those first. It will make the parts that are truly no fun seem less godawful. And Thranduil reminds me a lot, the entire point of this is that all the other elves like as not won't learn any English; he wants me to be able to talk to more than just him and Thanadir." Her sense of feeling awkward had only expanded as she spoke; it was time to just shut it before this turned into a church sermon.
"It can't be worse than Russian," Lorna said, and hoped like hell she was right. She picked up the top paper off the stack. "Christ, I know more about Russian grammar than English. Fucking accusative case made me want to murder Tatiana and the entire prison." If she could sort these all out aloud, and associate each with a taste or a smell, it would make her life much, much easier. This section was by necessity going to be associated with this fragrant black tea. "If I make a hash'v it at first...well, that's how I learned Russian. I was awful. I got the bones down, then worked out the details later, though I never did manage to speak it as well as I understand it - seriously, that fucking accusative case can fuck off and die in a fucking fire. It's the same with Welsh; I can understand it well enough, but speaking it I sound like a drunken sailor. Then again, my accent's so heavy that I have a hell'v a time in any language. I was trying to repeat the words I heard in the halls, and I'm pants at it."
Earlene debated if she should say this, and then decided...Yes. "There's something else, too. That alphabet was invented by an elf that lived a million years ago, Fëanor was his name. He was apparently dark-haired, gorgeous, talented and brilliant beyond all description and he went about as bad as an elf could go. The things he did led to elves murdering other elves. Specifically, if I understood right, murdering those who were the ancestors and kin of Thranduil's people. All these years later, it is still a sore subject for him, and by pure bad luck I blundered right into the middle of the emotional core of what happened. He...let's just say it wasn't a pleasant day around here. The language we are trying to learn, Sindarin, is different than the elven language Fëanor's lot spoke. That was called Quenya. It was older, more developed, and arguably prettier than Sindarin….and a lot of Sindarin words come from Quenya. But in Thranduil's youth, one of their kings banned people from speaking Quenya. I can't say as any of this could matter in your learning, but I just wanted you to know that this...political and emotional pitfall exists. And that if you ever come across something called the Oath of Fëanor, it might be a good idea never to practice reading it aloud here." Maybe she shouldn't have told all that to Lorna, but she meant well. She'd never fully gotten past seeing Thranduil's anger, and did not want her friend to ever experience that if she could somehow help her to avoid it.
Lorna winced. "Did he flip out?" she asked. She could scarcely imagine hating someone so much that the mere sound of words could piss you off - not even her father had pulled that one off, and she wondered, as she'd wondered several times, whether or not living so long wasn't a double-edged sword. When something awful happened to you, you literally had eternity to let it stew, and probably only get worse with years. And if this Fëanor had straight-up murdered some of Thranduil's family...yeeeesh. That would be a bit more than a sore spot. "It seems so mental - all this being something real, and almost nobody knowing. I wish that Tolkien bloke was still alive, because I'd love to ask him a lot'v pointed questions." Obviously he wasn't someone who'd met an elf and learned all this from them, or Thranduil probably would have known about it...how damn weird. It would do her head in, if she wondered about it too much.
"I guess the best comparison would be if The Troubles had been caused by just one person, and the by association that man's sons and daughters. Imagine how everyone on the wrong side of the violence would feel about that name...and if there was a speech, or a declaration, that they used to stir the violence, how you'd feel about hearing it no matter who said the words. I need to read more, but Fëanor made all seven of his sons swear an oath that led to all of the bad that happened. And it was all over three jewels; amazing jewels that captured light like no other and that only he had learned how to create. And yeah, Thranduil flipped out. But at least he did better than I did. The one time I got that mad at him, I hit him as hard as I could. All he did was yell and leave. And….Jesus, that was TMI. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have ever said that. If there is any chance you could somehow forget I mentioned that, I'd appreciate it. I'm never going to not feel like crap for what I did."
Lorna's eyebrows went up. "Earlene, allanah, I'm a bartender," she said. "Believe me, I've heard worse. Hell, I've done worse. I can't say I've ever hit my boyfriend 'cause I was furious, but I've hit a load'v other people, half the time with more than my fists. You don't seem the sort to lamp someone out - what's the word? Premeditatedly?" She seriously couldn't imagine Earlene smacking someone out of malice aforethought, unless she were actively in danger. "At least you didn't break his nose with half a brick. I mean, I doubt that would actually work, but at least you didn't try." And that, boys and girls, was why she worried about taking the pair of them to Dublin. Should someone come at them with half a brick or any other improvised weapon, the 'someone' would wind up in a world of hurt. Arrogant as it sounded, if Lorna didn't stand a chance against one of them, it was unlikely anyone else would, either - and moreover, would have no idea what they were up against. And if someone tried to pull some shite with Earlene...well, Lorna didn't even want to think of it. So long as they were out of the city before the pubs were emptying out, she'd be less worried.
She had hit Liam, though, several times, but always when he was waking her from a nightmare, and yeah, she'd felt like crap herself, too. He'd always told her it wasn't her fault, that she literally had no idea who he was, and while he was right...still. That it should happen at all, no matter who she thought he was, made her cringe. But she had a suspicion, one she didn't want to voice, mostly because she was pretty sure she didn't need to: Earlene had to have got so furious with Thranduil over 9/11. Hell, he'd outright said her state of mind was his fault, but Lorna had never wanted to pry, because even she had some personal boundaries. That...yeah, that was something that would warrant getting violently, crazly angry over, without a second thought. And this Fëanor...how were the elves not giant, walking balls of neuroses? Or were they, and were just incredibly good at hiding it?
Earlene laughed softly. "Well, I'm still ashamed, but, given that I broke my hand doing it while I didn't hurt him in the least…" she sighed and shook her head. "And no bricks were involved. Honestly, the only time I've ever gone after someone was Sean, at the party. It's not that I'm incapable of getting that mad. And the other time, the time I was grabbed outside the pub...I never had a chance to do anything. I didn't have to; the necklace did worse than anything I could have managed. I never did know, what happened to that man," she said, as she caught the look of wary confusion on Lorna's face. "In all the fun, maybe no one ever explained this?" asked Earlene, tilting her head and pointing at the glinting diamonds around her neck. Seeing Lorna shake her head No, she sighed. Well, as long as it's TMI day, she thought.
"I'd not heard'v that at all," Lorna said. "I'd only thought there was Sean." What was this necklace? She'd thought it just a very pretty gift; she hadn't realized it had anything to do with Earlene's protection - Ian had said that it meant she was protected, but not exactly by what.
"Before the night I met you, I'd been to the pub one other time. My first night there. I'd had a grand time, all the lads were in there and I had a wonderful hour or so talking to them. Went outside to unlock my bicycle to ride home, and since I wasn't in New York, I'd totally dropped my guard. Next thing I know this man came out of nowhere, and had a hold of my arm. He was big, much stronger than me; he'd gotten enough of a grip to leave a huge purple bruise. Before I could think, scream, fight, anything, it was like all the light was leaving his eyes; he dropped like a stone. I honestly thought he was dead. Then the lads came out, saw him. All I could think was that I didn't want them to believe I'd just killed a man, but Ian just took it in stride. He said in so many words, 'he's not local, go home, we'll take care of this.' And I never knew anything more about it. I didn't get a huge explanation later, but Thranduil made it clear that this...does something, to anyone who would lay a hand on me. He said it didn't kill the man, but he wasn't conscious either. I think I have to be in some kind of proximity to Thranduil for it to work; he said it confers his protection." She snorted. "You know, just in case all of this isn't already weird enough for you...but I can't say I minded."
Lorna was troubled. Deeply troubled. What the hell would happen if someone made a grab for Earlene in Dublin, in even a semi-public place? Hell, what did the necklace - and hell, that was a whole other can of worms - decide was too much danger? Or would it...take some kind of holiday, if Thranduil himself was around? Because if it decided to zap some arsehole in an alley, she'd have a hell of a time trying to explain it away. While it was unlikely anyone would try anything, given Earlene would be in a group, one never knew. Just...how did it work? She was fully aware there was one hell of a lot she didn't know, but in this, it seemed Earlene didn't know much either. Thus far, Lorna had make a policy not to ask questions that weren't her business, but in this case, there was information she felt she needed to know before they went out into the world. While Thranduil might tell her to sod off, she was asking anyway, first chance she got. "Did he say anything else about it?" she asked.
Earlene's forehead furrowed. "He told me it is called the Necklace of Lasg'len; it isn't just any old piece of jewelry. It was made by dwarves, and is a family heirloom. The metal on it, it isn't white gold or platinum, but mithril; some priceless element of their ancient world that now isn't to be had any longer; it's harder than the diamonds. And...now that I think of it, I think his exact words were that 'to touch me with harmful intent carries a high price.' If you're asking how it works, I cannot exactly tell you. The only other thing is…" she paused, and looked at Lorna. "I'm trusting you to not be weirded out. It doesn't take a genie to realize that you would not want to be stuck with many of the things to which I have agreed, and that's ok, that we're different. But I'd hate to feel like that divide between us is so big that I have to be afraid of what I can say to you. I don't need you to agree with or even like all of my choices, but I do need to feel like I can be honest without sending you running screaming the other way." She heaved another sigh. "I am under a command not to remove or even try to remove the necklace. Only Thranduil can take it off me, or put it on. Other than that, there is nothing else I can tell you, though he might explain more."
Truth be told, Lorna was weirded out a bit, but not too much; by now she knew Earlene enough to know she hadn't signed on for this for the wrong reasons. "I'll be honest with you," she said, "sometimes it does make me a bit uncomfortable, but I'm getting used to it, because you really aren't me, and this isn't the kind'v situation I'd be afraid'v, if Thranduil was human. I've still got my gut reactions, but I...know better?" she offered, uncertain how to phrase it. "I mean, I get - really get, now - that you haven't got a problem with the whole...you know," she gave a vague wave. "I need to stop looking at things through my own experience, and I'm starting to...sort'v. It's not easy. What'd send me screaming the other way doesn't bother you, and if you're not bothered by it, why should I be? So long as you're happy, that's what counts. Though...you sleep in it?" she asked. "I'd think that'd be bloody uncomfortable." It was a beautiful piece of jewelry, but she'd think it would leave...indents, or whatever, and it couldn't be comfortable to shower in, either.
What remained difficult for her, though she was working on it, was the whole 'command' thing. Inevitably, all her life, as soon as someone told her to do something, she'd gone out and done the opposite, just to be a little shit. She really did only have her own experience to go by, and learning - truly learning - that not everyone had her issues was taking some work. Which, she'd spent thirty-nine years with her issues, and she'd known Earlene and Company for what, a fortnight?It would come, with time. Earlene was a smart woman, and she wasn't cowed; that was what counted. (Although Lorna wasn't sure she would ever get used to the 'my lords' and 'my kings', simply because she was Irish and there was just too much history there; she got around it by pretending she didn't hear it.) Earlene seemed entirely fine with calling Thranduil 'my king', so there was nothing wrong with it. It wasn't like he was forcing her. It grated on Lorna's twenty-first century Irish ear, but so what? She wasn't the one affected. What had surprised her immensely was finding that, in a few ways, she was actually quite narrow-minded - but then, these were situations she'd never found herself in before, and couldn't have had any way of predicting. And Ireland had such a centuries-old hatred of monarchy that her initial thoughts really weren't any surprise.
Earlene chuckled. "Well, since we're having honesty hour-and thank you, for what you said; I haven't made tons of friends in my life, but even I've managed to figure out that a friend to whom you can't really speak your honest mind is really only an acquaintance. But anyway. Yes, I sleep in it, and it only rarely digs in. I seem to recall that trying to wedge myself against the bathtub was an issue." Her voice dropped by a few notes. "When this was first placed on me, I resented it and liked it all at the same time. It felt like a very beautiful dog collar. But that was before I understood anything about it. Now, it reminds me of Thranduil. Maybe everyone isn't this sappy but, I love him. And when he's not near me, it feels like he is, because of this." Her hand laid over the jewels. "Now, I actually start to come slightly unglued when he takes it off. How things change," she said, shaking her head. "Love is strange."
Lorna's romantic experience was so severely limited that she couldn't quite comprehend that. The words 'dog collar' sent a rather unpleasant shiver through her, though that one wasn't actually based on her own experience, but that of a friend. Part - a very large part - of why she'd initially been so skeeved out by some aspects of Earlene and Thranduil's relationship was that she'd known a woman who'd been in a supposed S&M relationship that was in reality completely abusive - complete with actual dog collar. Seeing that this was not the case had taken a bit at first, because she had no other frame of reference. "It really is," she said. "Sometimes it takes a few years, like Liam and I, but Mairead only knew Kevin a month before they'd fallen for each other. They've been together close to twenty years now. I think, when you meet the right one, you just...know. Maybe not right off, but it's like something in them calls to you, you know?"
"Ohhhh yes. Um, it's more than you might imagine." In spite of what had just been said between them, Earlene once again weighed the wisdom of what she was about to say to Lorna but decided to continue her disclosures. "Were you told yet, that the decision to be intimate with an elf can't be undone? It's more than being in love. He and I are literally incapable of turning aside to other partners, physically or emotionally. It is difficult to explain but...an unbreakable bond forms. Our first time, I could literally feel something move through my mind and body, tying me to him. And while I have not been with a human man, I'm pretty sure this is not what happens. It is apparently an aspect of elven marriage. I was told what would happen, warned, before we...but I hadn't truly understood. How could I? There is no frame of reference among us for this. But like with everything else, I now wouldn't trade it for anything."
Lorna turned that one over in her mind. "I think...maybe I can," she said. "Imagine, I mean. Liam and I, there wasn't anything actually binding us but each other, but neither'v us ever would've turned to anyone else. There were other people I found nice to look at, but it was...abstract? I didn't have any desire to actually do anything, or even think of them as, y'know, sexual beings. Liam was it, right up until I saw Ratiri. He's the first bloke I've been attracted to since Liam."
She laughed a little. "Liam's and my first time...it was my first time ever, and he didn't exactly have much experience, so the earth didn't precisely move. There was a lot'v laughter and we got the condom wrong at first, but later...I'll not understand how different it would be with an elf, but I'm not sure it's as different as we might think. When you love someone, it's like nothing else matters, and you really wouldn't give it up for anything." She paused. "And Liam had a really fantastic arse. I mean, really fantastic. We were roadies for Judas Priest for a while, and he had these leather trousers...brilliant, it was." The memory made her burst out laughing, actually, because at one point he'd got stuck in them, and been highly embarrassed when she'd had to literally peel them off him - before they'd started any kind of relationship.
Earlene began giggling uncontrollably. "Sure god, you've no idea how good it feels to hear I'm not the only one with stories to tell. Judas Priest? Thranduil was my first. I guess you could say that my job didn't leave me with a lot of room for relationships. It wasn't that I didn't want someone, I just never blundered into that person. Maybe I was far too easy to seduce," she said ruefully, "but when you're almost forty before anyone even tries…" she shrugged. "I'm not going to feel apologetic about it. I know he isn't your type but to me Thranduil is perfect. Beautiful, like no one I could ever imagine. And what he can do…" her cheeks began to turn red. "Okay, I do not need to turn into a complete tell-all here, I'm sorry." She laughed again. "Though I don't feel drunk any longer, I wonder what the hell was in that wine. Sure seems to have loosened my tongue," she giggled again.
Lorna laughed. "You want to talk about 'blundered'...Liam and I shared a parole officer. We kept meeting up our first year, then, once our parole was up, we went to England and went touring, just as friends first. I'm not even exactly sure when it turned into more - one day, just did. And Judas Priest...that's how I learned to play guitar, actually. How and when. It was way too fun, even if half the time we were slogging around in mud."
She shook her head, leaning back on the sofa. "Earlene, does it make me shallow, that I don't think Thranduil and Thanadir are attractive, y'know, like that? I mean, objectively they're both lovely, but they don't do a bloody thing for me - does that mean I'm shallow? I think it means I'm shallow, and I'm worried Ratiri might be the same way. I don't look like you, or like Siobhan, though God knows my hair's got better." She picked up her braid, running her fingers over it. It was certainly better than nothing.
"Shallow? No. Physical attraction is incredibly...specific, I think. In general, dark-skinned men have never done it for me; though I will allow that in the same way, Ratiri that you met strikes me as very handsome in an artistic kind of way. I had to turn shades of red a few days back, explaining mortal women to Thanadir. We've become closer than I'd expected to be. I somehow found the guts to tell him that were I not bound to Thranduil, I would find him incredibly appealing. It's obvious to me that I think most elves are desirable. Or I would, if I were capable of feeling that way toward another of them. It's like you said, no one but Thranduil will ever do anything for me. But back to Ratiri...I don't know him, but I've made my living in part by being exceedingly good at reading the body language and mannerisms of others. That man found you attractive. He radiated it, actually. While I cannot read minds like my husband can, that was plain enough. You do know that you are very pretty, right? You have a face and body that is positively elfin. And your eyes, Jesus. You look like you flew out of the pages of a book about fae. I look like a damn lawyer. I know that I'm a certain kind of attractive. But that's the thing; we're all a certain kind of attractive. It just depends on who the one is that's looking."
"It's obvious to Siobhan, too," Lorna said, trying not to laugh and failing. "While I don't know that she actually shocked Thranduil, she did surprise him a bit. Woman's a right pervert, and apparently she's even worse inside her head." She couldn't help but smile, even as she swirled her tea in her mug. "Did he? I'm such shit at talking to men, but he was pretty bad with me, too, so at least neither'v us was better than the other. I'd wondered how a man like that could be so crap at talking to a woman, but I think he's like me - I think he lost his first, and that was that, for ages."
She looked up at Earlene. "Elfin?" she asked. "That's bit ironic, given...well, everything." It was not, to her knowledge, a word anyone had ever applied to her in the history of ever, but she'd take it. It certainly beat 'scrawny' any day of the week. "You don't look like a damn lawyer, though - well, unless you're in your suit, but then that's entirely the point. You wear all these elf clothes like you were born to; Christ, I'd half suspect you were an elf myself sometimes, if I didn't know better. You...sometimes you move like them, too, you know? Usually when I see you in the halls, so maybe I'm off my nut, but I don't think I am." Had Thranduil noticed that? He had to have.
Really? Earlene had no idea. Though, there was no doubt that in her heart, she felt like she belonged with and to the elves, to a depth she wouldn't have believed possible. "And here I thought it was just because of Thanadir's skills as a tailor," she joked, looking down. But there was no doubt that the words were said with honesty. Honesty...that reminded her.
"Lorna, I remembered something I'd meant to tell you, about Thanadir. Please don't hate me for saying all this. The thing in the pub in Baile, with your niece? It was a valiant rescue attempt, and you had no way of knowing this, but elves don't lie. Especially Thanadir. If I hadn't gotten him out the door when I did, you would have seen the full force of the King's Seneschal. He may have the pitiful puppy dog look much of the time, but trust me, that is not who he is. There is a lion behind that façade, with fairly firm views on what is acceptable and what isn't. I had a long talk with him explaining why you lied to try and get rid of Niamh; he understood and isn't upset at all. I loaned him my da's wedding ring, to stave off problems in future. But I think if it comes up again, we should just say he's 'not available' if asked, and no more. I also spent two hours, teaching him how to recognize how people act and practicing how to politely and not-so-politely turn down being hit on by both women and men. If it happens again, he's prepared. He may not look it, but he is more than capable of asserting himself."
"Oh Christ," Lorna said, wincing, "That would have ended...so, so badly. Not violently or anything, but...ugly." Seriously, the thought made her shudder. The people of Baile were a good lot, but if they saw what they would assume was an outsider giving shite to a local, there would have been Words. Rather nasty words, many containing four letters. She wished she was a better liar, that she could have put Niamh off without making a total hash of things. "But - the elves, they're pretending to be humans. That's a pretty major lie." Were the elves massive rules-lawyers?
Earlene looked at her with a rather intent expression. "Good grief, I never thought of that angle. Some lawyer I am. I wonder how they would respond to that observation?"
At that exact moment the door opened, and Thranduil entered, smiling. "I hope I have allowed you sufficient time for 'human things'?" he teased.
Both women's eyes rolled, but Earlene was first to retort. "I thought we did pretty good, having a private conversation about personal topics knowing you hear everything we say. For a human, that takes a lot, I hope you realize."
Thranduil looked at both of them with affection and humor. "I do," he said softly. "Do not ever believe that you are both other than very much appreciated," he said with a raw sincerity that was almost embarrassing to hear.
Using the lull to change the subject, Earlene pressed on, with a tone of respect included in her question. "I wondered if you would be willing to answer Lorna's remark? How do you reconcile not lying with a rather strong need for a certain kind of deception?"
The humor fell away from his face, and he sat down in the chair opposite them, slumping just a little. His long legs stretched out in front of him, almost clear under the coffee table as he picked aimlessly at a button on his tunic. "Ah, that," he said with chagrin. "I think the topic might be better understood if the words were changed a little. No exact law or requirement hangs over our heads for this; it isn't as though one goes to elven prison for speaking a lie. But as with many things, it is deep in our hearts to choose to be truthful. You must understand that ages ago, our world was undone by two who lied and deceived first the elves, and then men; Morgoth and his slave Mairon. The bitter fruits of that era made a lasting impression on the consciousness of all of us, as a race. So it might be better to say, Earlene, that elves strongly prefer not to lie. You of all people are aware that I have employed deception when I felt that there was a great need; and there were consequences for my choices. Does that clarify?" As he concluded, he looked on with a smile, seeing the stack of instructional materials in front of Lorna. Feeling mischievous, he picked up a pencil and a notepad.
Earlene nodded. "It is my mistake. I did not clearly understand this nuance, and a conversation I had with Thanadir gave me the impression that it was far more of an absolute rule. I must remember to be careful; his English has improved so very much I forget that I should ask discerning questions."
"No harm is done," he said kindly, handing the notepad to Lorna. "I see that you have the chart of our letters. Can you work out what this says?" he asked, with a twinkle in his eyes.
Smiling, Earlene glanced at the word. Their character for "L" was among the most distinctive and easy to remember; she did not need to think about the three consonants to realize what he would have written. Though, she was still jealous of his handwriting; her own script still looked, in her eyes, like a second grader's attempt at art class.
Lorna really, really wished she could have stopped the utter dread that stabbed through her. Shit, shit, abort, abort! She'd have a hell of a time even if the letters were in the Roman alphabet. She scanned the chart, hoping like hell it would just...jump out at her, but no such luck. Wait...was that -? Probably not. Fuck. Anger stirred in her, mostly at herself: she'd been so certain she'd be able to wrangle this on her own, where nobody would actually know just how bad this was.
Thranduil's face betrayed no outward reaction as he spoke silently to his wife. Earlene, do not respond in any manner to what I am about to say aloud. "Lorna, forgive me. I did not realize that you have a time constraint this afternoon, I did not mean to hold you up with my silly word games. We will see you tomorrow, to go to Dublin? May I ask what time we are to be ready?" His gaze was calm and level.
It was odd, just how relieved and unhappy she could be all at once; relieved, that Thranduil had given her an out, but unhappy that he'd worked this out in the first place. Elves probably had no idea what the hell dyslexia even was; shit, even a lot of humans didn't understand it. "I'll come by at around ten," she said. "That will put us in Dublin at around noon. If all goes even half-ass to plan, we should be on our way home by three." She doubted the doctor's appointment would take that long, and Niamh wouldn't hold them up. "We can pick up some take-away from a pub for the way back. Mick won't mind if we eat in his van so long as we don't leave a mess." Unfortunately, she was entirely certain Thranduil wasn't going to let this...this, go, but at least she didn't have to deal with it right now. Thank you, she said. You can - you can tell Earlene, if you feel like it. Just...once I'm gone. She can explain it loads better than I could.
As Lorna walked to the front door, the words came clearly into her mind; You are correct, mellonenin, which means, my friend. With this difficulty too, I can help you, when you are ready. It is not your fault, Lorna. Good luck, for now. The tone faded out with the sound of a smile, if such a thing was possible.
She'd trusted Thranduil this far, and he'd never let her down; he did not, she knew, judge her, which was more than she could say of a lot of people. She trusted Earlene with it, too, but couldn't actually admit it to her face. Good luck to you, too, she said, a slightly bastardized farewell. I'll be out in the morning. Papers in hand, she headed out toward the edge of the forest, determined to spend some time studying on her own, so she wouldn't have that embarrassing problem again.
She noticed the mail in the box, halfway to spilling out. Though she didn't want to pry, she couldn't help but notice the letter on the top had a U.S. postage stamp. Probably something from Earlene's work. Hey Thranduil, the post's here. I've stuck it back into the box. Something on top Earlene might want to see - it's from the States.
Once Lorna had been gone for the better part of a minute, Earlene looked up in amusement. That would be one of those 'necessary deceptions?' She smirked.
His eyebrows arched at her. Yes. Surely I have made no secret of being far more inclined to deception that my beautiful and morally stalwart seneschal? His eyes sparkled like a child caught with his hand in a cookie jar by a parent with no intention of offering discipline.
"You have not," she said with humor. "I have always assumed it somehow went with the crown. And I am hoping I may speak aloud?"
His head dipped in a nod.
"Would you like tea?"
His head shook from side to side, his eyes never leaving hers.
"May we have a conversation that will have greater complexity than Yes or No answers?"
Again, a nod, though this time he could not repress a grin, chuckling at her mock exasperation. "Give me just a moment, meluieg," he said, rising and inexplicably walking out the front door. Earlene hurriedly gathered her Sindarin materials and returned them to the shelf, lest anyone get the incorrect idea that she was eager to study just now.
Her husband returned swiftly, handing her a stack of mail, though he could not resist riffling through it in fascination; he had not seen much of this 'mail' before.
Earlene looked through the stack and immediately froze when she saw the letter from America. Thranduil noticed that she went slightly pale.
"Meluieg, what is wrong?" he said, moving at once to her side and seating himself. He placed his arm around her in concern.
Her chest felt tight in spite of herself. "This is from my brother. From Aidan," she whispered. How in the ever-loving fuck could this come today? Why today, after everything that just happened? Didn't she deserve just twenty-four hours to enjoy feeling free of everything he'd ever said to her? Shit. As much as part of her wanted to toss it in the wood stove, she knew she couldn't. The asshole was still family. Maybe. Delicately, she slipped her finger under the edge of the flap and worked it open, after she noted the postmark. It was dated back in February; this letter had been forwarded more than once. Not a surprise; he was not even thought of, in terms of who she'd notified as to her departure.
She pulled it out, it was a Valentine's card, which immediately generated a noise of disgust. It appeared to be one of the sort that came with solicitations for donations to charitable organizations; unsurprisingly, no discernible care had gone into its selection.
"Earlene," she read aloud, unsure if her husband's talents extended to reading a physician's cursive handwriting. "It has been a very long time." You bet your goddamn arse it has, Aidan. "I am sorry, for what happened that Christmas." But not sorry enough that you could apologize sooner than thirteen fucking years later. "My life has changed, though still in practice. I have a daughter now, born this last Christmas. I named her Alannah, after Gran. She has dark hair and eyes, like you." Earlene's suspicious nature immediately went on alert. No mention of a wife, no photo. "I want you to meet her. I tried to look you up in the City, and was told you'd moved abroad. I hope this reaches you. My contact information is below. I know that things haven't been the best between us but we are still family, Earlene. -Aidan" This reeks like a fishmonger's cart, she thought.
Placing the card on the table, she turned to Thranduil, to seek the comfort of his arms. I had been about to ask you if we could talk about what I've been feeling recently, and how you would feel about my returning to New York for a short visit. I took it for granted that if you didn't outright overhear the conversation, that Thanadir would have talked to you about what I told him some days ago. That discussion just got tied in a knot.
His hand stroked the back of her head. I heard. I have been waiting, meluieg, for whatever was held inside of you to have a chance to make itself known. And today, it did. And I can see, though I will ask to hear it from you to ensure I understand, that you are asking me both as your King and your husband, if I would allow you to briefly leave, to return to New York for a short time in order to explore your emotions?
She nodded. That would sum it up. I feel a desire to visit places I thought I did not need to see again, meet up with colleagues I have left behind. I do not fully understand this myself, but what you have healed within me has left me different. Becoming yours has also caused change. As has everything that has happened to me in this life which I never could have expected. I understand in a way I did not, before, how much I was hiding from myself, how much I imposed rules and order on myself to form an identity. It is all falling away now, and… she sighed, unable to finish.
And you feel as though you are no longer certain who Earlene is?
Another nod. "And now this," she said, gesturing at the letter. "I've no idea what this is about, but every instinct I have tells me that this is far more than what is said here, and that it does not necessarily mean anything good for me."
His arms wrapped around her, and pulled her to him. "As your King, Earlene, my answer must be No."
A knot formed in her stomach, but began to ebb quickly. She had stopped resisting her circumstances weeks ago, and if this was her King's decision, so be it.
"You misunderstand me, meluieg. What I cannot allow is for you to go alone. You are my wife, and my queen. But...this brings me to a related topic. I know it is no secret to you that Lorna and I communicate a great deal. Her thoughts are so different than yours, and I learn. It disturbed her considerably, that Thanadir or I guard you at all times, by one means or another. She felt that it was intolerable, demeaning, and a range of other undesirable attributes. I was very much interested at the strength of her feelings, when I have felt no such objections from you. The only thing I have ever sensed from you is that it was something about which you would rather hide from your fellow humans because you knew they would not approve. I explained my reasons to Lorna, and to her credit she listened. But I also promised her that I would discuss this with you, and take your opinions into consideration."
Earlene blinked at this onslaught. Well, she'd known they talked, yes, though it was slightly weird to realize that she was the subject of some of those conversations. Erm… she reached up and held onto his forearms.
"Is there a question contained in here?" she asked, not understanding what was wanted. His observations were correct but…? "Are you asking me if I really feel differently than I feel?" That was terrible phrasing, but at the moment she was at a loss to do better.
"Yes."
"You want to know if I want more freedom, less oversight, than what you have decreed for me?"
"Yes."
She filled her lungs to capacity before allowing all the air to escape in a sigh. "The problem is, the answer to your question is Yes, No, and I Don't Know, all at once. This is a difficult thing to explain, please be patient. I vowed to obey your laws and commands, when I swore fealty to you. Strictly speaking, those words leave no room for discussion. If you tell me I must do something, I must; otherwise I break my vow. I knew this when I spoke the words. When I first arrived I did not envision wanting to go anywhere or do anything; I came here to quietly live alone, not being aware of just how impossible that was going to be. I had no way to know that I would fall into something extraordinary and outside of human understanding. Being guarded and monitored is not something usual, to modern humans, though it is not absolutely unheard of. As a modern woman, I am not supposed to want anything like this; I am supposed to want freedom and independence and self-determination. Yet I gave those things away to you, with almost no resistance. If I had to say why I did this, it would be that something in you called to me. You gave me a chance to fully cross into your world, and I accepted the cost of doing so. I also know that even had I waited and taken longer to consider, the outcome would have been the same. You and Thanadir feel more like family to me than any family I ever had. Maybe because of this, I do not mind being guarded. Were I guarded by different elves, I might feel differently; I cannot say. There are times when I would like to be alone more than I am, at home or in your Halls. And it does feel strange to have to ask to go somewhere when previously I just went; no human adult would choose this. But, I feel safe with elves. I like being with you and Thanadir because you know how to be quiet. You allow me to feel like I am alone, even when I am not. I looked out for myself all my life, and now I don't have to any longer. And either way I have no choice, so it is hard to know why I am even thinking about it." She looked down, and spoke with softer words. "You told me, the day I struck you, that I would learn that the only freedom I have is in having no choices, that I would learn to accept my position. Your words seemed cruel then, but, I believe that I have learned. It took time to understand, it is no different than for Thanadir. I have seen that your word is law to him as well; he surrendered the same rights and freedoms, and does not suffer in his service to you."
Thranduil listened carefully, trying to sift her words and her emotions. "What I am hearing is that you are almost wholly content to be under my authority, having accepted that your happiness has taken another form. But that there are still times, and I believe I saw one just a moment ago, when you yet wish you could do as you pleased. It is easy to keep your vows when you are isolated with the elves, but harder when confronted with the customs of the human world. And that you would like to have more time in which to enjoy a sense of solitude."
"Yes."
He rocked her gently while he held her, considering. "The last one, I can grant easily. I can see in your thoughts that you were used to having a great deal of time alone, and that coming here has reversed that, and it is not your preference. But that even now, you are uncertain how much time you wish."
Earlene chuckled even as she nodded again.
"The other...meluieg, I wish you to know that I do not think you incapable. I know that you lived your entire life without incident in a vast and complex city of men; that you understood how to avoid danger and that you even had some means at your disposal to protect yourself. But as I tried to explain to Lorna, you are mine now; my responsibility and under my care. Were anything to happen to you, even through no fault of yours or mine, I could not bear it. If you feel that you must return home, we will go as a family. I realize that there are papers and requirements and obstacles, but unless I am much mistaken those will soon be behind us. If you wish, we could even invite Lorna. And as your husband...you will not be meeting with your brother alone. He has done enough damage and I will not allow him to do more. Not to mention, I will not miss an opportunity to see his heart and understand what on earth is wrong with him."
"I intend to go a little farther than that. With your consent, I will contact him. I will also have him investigated; I have connections. I do not believe for a moment that this visit is about any real desire to repair our relationship. And Thranduil...I fear it may be a great deal worse than that. That he mentioned a child, did not mention a wife or a mother, and out of the blue writes that he wants me to meet my niece?...something is very wrong. And while I do not wish to jump to conclusions, this is Aidan."
"You fear on some level that this is an attempt to coerce you into taking his child?"
"Actually, yes, I do. He never made a secret about not desiring children. He wanted a wife, partner, however you wish to call it, but made it clear on more than one occasion that he never wanted to be a father. Though, people can and do change their minds on that as they go through life. I may be one hundred percent wrong, but I intend to go into this meeting fully researched for every possibility at which I can guess. Because again, this is Aidan."
"And if your guess is correct?"
Earlene snorted. "Then we would both need to answer the question of how we felt about undertaking twenty years' responsibility and beyond for raising a child that is not ours. A fully human child, in the midst of an elven realm. At a time when I have not even been able to determine if I want you to give me a child of our own," she trailed off.
He tilted his head. "You feel that one thing might trigger another, so to speak?"
"It would not be outside the range of potential emotional responses to such a situation."
Turning her, he effortlessly adjusted her in his arms so that they could face each other. "There is much yet to know before any conclusions can be drawn. It may be that you are incorrect, and that the letter asks no more than what it says. I think that we should keep this possibility private between us, for now. If Lorna and Thanadir need to know, the time will come. Just as I do not share her private matters with you, the same is true in reverse; she knows nothing of your past with your brother. But I will break one small confidence to tell you that Lorna was pregnant once, and lost the baby in a tragedy. It devastated her, and I hope that she will tell you in her own time. I tell you now so that you can understand that for her, anything about this subject would be volatile, intensely emotional."
Earlene's eyebrows raised. "She lost that baby when she lost her husband, didn't she?...don't answer that. That poor woman." Earlene shook her head. "I will be honest, Thranduil. When I think on children, I vacillate. There are times I think about carrying your child, raising a young one with you, and it fills my heart. To know the experience of carrying something that is yours, in my body. Of seeing your happiness, and having the joys of watching my son or daughter grow. Then there are other times when I look at how full my days are now and I wonder how it could even be possible, or where the time would come from."
"Our days will not always be this unsettled, Earlene." He leaned forward to kiss her forehead. "Right now there is much to be done. Gardens, appointments, papers, learning languages and culture, finances, establishing identities. Sooner than you think, this will be behind us, and we will be far more occupied with living our lives. Enjoying our lives. I am not unaware, that you have struggled with what you would call a 'lack of peace and quiet.' While I obviously cannot promise that you will have the life here you once envisioned, I can tell you that something far closer to it will arrive in time."
Thranduil reached now and hugged her to him, feeling his heart swell with joy. It appeared very, very likely that he would father another child. Earlene only needed a little more time, to see the leanings of her heart for what they were.