The figure slowly opened the bedroom door, unsure if its hinges would squeak. Light sleeper or not, it wouldn't do to wake the victim before it was intended. The door was left open; better to have a quick escape route if needed, which was highly likely. With a few strides, the figure had crossed the room to reach the bedside of their victim.
Still sound asleep. That just wouldn't do.
"Wakey wakey," the figure whispered, poking the sleeper's shoulder. The only movement was the slight jostling caused by the prod. Trying again, with a slightly raised voice still yielded no response.
The figure sighed. They didn't want to do it, but their victim left them no choice. Laying next to the sleeper was an unused pillow, which the figure picked up slowly and set across the sleeper's face. For this tactic to work, the intruder needed another pillow, which they found tossed at the foot of the bed. It was smaller, but it would be suitable. From their pocket, they produced a small air horn, which was placed carefully between the two pillows now laying on the sleeper's head.
"You pushed me to do this," the figure said, now feeling less sure of themselves. The only upside to this was that the person sleeping was on their side, so the pillows laying across them were less likely to smother them. Taking a deep breath and praying to any god above that would listen, the figure quickly pressed down on the airhorn.
A number of things happened at once. The loud roar of the air horn was muffled by the pillows it was sandwiched within, but it had the desired effect of waking up the bed's occupant. Both pillows, the air horn, and the intruder were thrown backwards, creating a series of thumps on the floor. Sitting up in the middle of the bed was the now wide-awake occupant, looking more like a haggard banshee than the elleth it actually was.
Rubbing her face and looking around, she settled on the intruder. "You."
"Yeah, me. Wakey wakey, starshine."
"Why are you in my room?"
"Did you forget?" The intruder adjusted their clothes as they stood up. "We had a plan, remember?"
The elleth in the bed groaned, resigned to not getting anymore sleep that morning. "You're an asshole, Bernard."
"Well Ithilwen, if you'd wake up the first time I wouldn't have to do that, now would I?" He said sarcastically to her retreating back. "Suit up and make it quick."
Before she disappeared into the bathroom, Bernard was given the middle finger.
Haldir had once more woken up to an empty bed, but he was beginning to get used to his surroundings enough to know that Morwen had just gone downstairs to make breakfast. He rose, tidied the bed, dressed and ventured downstairs. It was right as he reached the hallway that divided the dining room from the living room that he heard shouting outside in the backyard. Any yardwork to be done had been taken care of days before, and there were none of the modern sounds of machinery reaching his ears. No, this sounded more like…fighting?
The closer he was to the back of the house, the louder the shouts became, and the more confused he became. Haldir grew more concerned when he looked out into the backyard, seeing that the sounds came from Bernard and Ithilwen. What had he done for her to strike at him? They had appeared to get along before; had it all been a ruse? Haldir had nearly stepped out onto the porch when he really noticed Bernard. The younger ellon was on the defensive, with large padded guards strapped to his forearms that Ithilwen was striking. The shouting coming from him wasn't crying out either, it was him egging her on. Whatever it was that they were doing, he knew what irked his sister, because she continued to strike the padded guards with enough force to push him back. Bernard would move back a few steps, get his bearings, and then shout at her again to keep going.
Deciding it was best not to interfere, Haldir shook his head and continued into the kitchen. He found Morwen facing away from him at the counter. Slipping his arms around her waist from behind, he kissed her temple and asked, "Could you explain why two of our children are yelling at each other in the back yard?"
She laughed. "So you saw them, then. Back when the girls were younger, Bernard enrolled with them in a kickboxing class. It was new and they were fascinated. Fast forward a couple of years, and the students have become nervous around Ithilwen in particular-" More of the household was waking up and filing into the dining room, and she paused to greet them. "Like I was saying, they were scared of Ithilwen because she…well…she kind of knocked the wind out of one of her classmates-"
"She kicked someone?!"
"It was an accident!" Morwen emphasized, nearly swinging the batter-covered whisk about. "After that, all three of them removed themselves from the class and Bernard took it upon himself to be their trainer."
Haldir moved around the kitchen to fix himself a cup of coffee. "Why is Fiona not out there with them?"
"Fiona's been more interested in yoga exercises lately," she explained, spooning batter onto the griddle. "It's not as high-impact, but it's just as strengthening. Ithilwen likes the opportunity to strike something. So if you happen to see them out in the yard fighting, don't worry too much about it unless you can see blood. They'll be fine one day, then at each other's throats the next. Just let them get it out of their system and they'll be back to normal."
"That doesn't sound normal to me."
Morwen shrugged. "Beats counseling. Now shoo, so I can finish breakfast."
As Haldir was being pushed out of the kitchen by his wife, his other two children could be heard coming into the dining room. Bernard and Ithilwen were clearly arguing about something, and from the ellon's latest words, he was pulling rank as the oldest.
"I'll stop calling you 'Little Tycoon' when you're stronger than me," Bernard said.
Ithilwen huffed and lifted her right arm to flex. "Look at this and say it again," she challenged.
Bernard mimicked her pose with his left arm, pushing the sleeve back to show that his biceps were much bigger than hers. "Say what again, Little Tycoon?" he grinned.
She puffed her cheeks out in irritation and swung her arm around his neck, moving to get him in a headlock. If it weren't for Haldir telling them to cut it out, she might have succeeded. Still, that didn't keep her from sticking her tongue out at her brother as she sat down next to Legolas.
Gimli, who was sitting on the elf's left, asked her, "Why were you up so early this morning, lass? Have another suitor of the past to beat on?"
"No," Ithilwen laughed, "I just felt like I needed a heavy workout this morning, that's all." She looked up across the table to see Fiona was ready to burst with a comment of her own. "Don't say it!"
"I wasn't going to say anything!" Fiona replied innocently. The glint in her eyes said otherwise.
"Careful, you're gonna get struck by lightning with that line."
The strawberry blonde had her hands up in a placating gesture. "Chill, dude. All I was going to say was that I imagined that Legolas would be all to willing to give you a heavy workout." Next to her was Aragorn, and his grinning was doing nothing to help her case. She could only imagine the twins' expressions.
From down the table Pippin spoke up. "What would be wrong with that? We've all seen that Legolas is a highly skilled warrior. Ithilwen would be in good hands-"
There was howling coming from the kitchen, and barely controlled snickering around the table. No one was looking at anyone out of fear that if their eyes met, the wouldn't hold it together. Pippin couldn't figure out what was so funny about what he said, even after Elrond tried to help him. "I do not believe that is what Fiona had truly intended with her statement, Master Took." Even hearing the muffled laughter coming from his daughter now, he rolled his eyes to the ceiling in exasperation.
"Anyway, I doubt Legolas is highly skilled like that," Ithilwen said offhandedly. She figured the only way she could get through breakfast this morning was to jump in with the teasing. Little did she know that Legolas had the same idea.
"Isn't effort what counts?" he asked her.
"Yes," she agreed, "But it can make for fumbling hands and a lot of uncertainty. You don't want to practice incorrect positions, do you?"
"And what would make it incorrect if one has never practiced before?" The laughter had settled, and now most of the table's occupants were watching the pair of elves see who could outdo the other.
"I imagine feeling a sharp pain with the thought, 'Well that isn't supposed to go there' would be a good indication!"
"The trainer would at least have a good understanding of the concepts before practice were to begin."
"That's like sewing while you're drunk. Sure, you get it in the hole. And you think you know what you're doing, so you get overconfident. Next think you know, you've stuck yourself with a little prick that hurts like hell, making you regret the whole ordeal."
Legolas was silent for a few minutes, and Ithilwen didn't think he had a comeback for that one. She had reached for her mug to take a sip when he spoke. "Someone with a steady hand, regardless of past experience, can always make a new situation bearable."
That mug in her hand clunked to the table, and her free hand went to cover her face. "That's it, you wore me down." she conceded. She'd have to remember that he was more clever than that in the future.
Haldir, it appeared, was the one to settle everything. "That had best be the only thing he's wearing you down at." It wasn't meant to be funny, but it brought out more laughter regardless as breakfast was served.
"What's the matter, love? Are your children trying to make your hair go white?" Morwen heard everything, of course. It was funnier to see the expressions Haldir would make when she asked.
"They're your children as well, and at the rate they're going, my hair will be whiter than Cirdan's when we return home!"
Arwen watched quietly as her aunt demonstrated the procedure for filling the large metal box. A pile of garments of similar color were pushed in its hole first, followed by a capful of blue liquid. Her aunt shut the lid next and spoke about the different settings, pointing to each knob or button. She learned that while there were so many options, it was easiest to simply stick with the ones that Morwen reccommended.
"How come you wanted to know how to run the washing machine?" Morwen asked her finally. "There's nothing like this back home."
"I wished to learn so that I could help with the household duties," Arwen said. "You have done so much for all of us; it does not feel proper to not offer assistance in return."
Morwen tutted as she gave her niece a half-hug. "Y'all don't have to do that, but if you really want to help, I appreciate it." She moved to the metal box next to the previous one then. "This is the dryer, and when this load of laundry finishes I'll show you how to get it going. It's a lot quicker than line drying, and more convenient in the winter."
"What is this bottle?" Arwen held up a plastic squirt bottle, and grew even more confused when Morwen laughed. "I don't understand-"
"Sweetie, it's not you I'm laughing at," her aunt sobered. "It's the bottle. I forgot it was even there. This…this is a running joke between me and the girls. A couple decades ago, I had bought a much older washer and dryer set. Both worked like you expected them to, although after a month the dryer decided to be tempermental."
"It came alive?" Arwen asked, horrified.
"Not exactly, but it did try to vibrate across the floor. Repairmen would come over, look at it, and find nothing wrong. One afternoon I came home from work to find Ithilwen sitting on the dryer as it ran, and it didn't move an inch. She told me she got tired of trying to hold it in place, so she sat on it while she did her homework. Well… the clothes got dry, but she didn't get her homework done." Morwen continued to grin as she looked at the bottle. "Eventually I replaced that set, but I couldn't keep either of them off the dryer for a while there, so I bought that bottle and filled it with water. I told them that if they didn't quit it I'd chase them off like cats."
Arwen still couldn't understand what was amusing about a metal box that would try to move about the room. She turned to look at the washing machine, which had begun to kick into it's cycle, thinking on it. What appeal was there in sitting on the box? Was it to feel tall? She decided that it would be best to ask her aunt, since she was more than willing to answer her questions.
"It's hard to put into words without being crass," her aunt said. Morwen suspected that Elrond could have been lurking, and really didn't want that kind of fight. "I will say this: if you want to give it a try, go right ahead. These machines are surprisingly sturdy, so you won't need to worry about breaking it." She decided to take her leave then, as Arwen wished to take care of the clothes that morning. No sooner had she made it to the doorway, Morwen stopped and turned. "This is going to sound weird, but…you're not a screamer, are you?"
The Queen of Gondor's eyebrows furrowed. "I do not believe so," she said hesitantly. What did that mean? Did she scream at the sight of insects? Not exactly, but they did unnerve her.
Morwen's expression turned to one of relief as she muttered, "That's good" before leaving Arwen to her duties. The elleth that remained in the mudroom stood there awkwardly, looking about her surroundings. It had been a long time since she had been around her aunt, and she wondered if this modern society had made her more eccentric than she once was. The devices were so peculiar, but they were also efficient. It did make her duty more of a waiting game, however.
Arwen placed her hand on the washing machine, feeling the vibrations change. It was peculiar. She looked to the dryer next to it, perfectly still. Curiosity got the better of her, and since she had time before the dryer had to be used…
Ithilwen was sitting on the floor of the den a while later, untangling cords from the game system she intended to connect to the TV when Aragorn called for her. "Yeah?" she asked, reaching blindly behind the TV with the system's A/V cables in hand.
"Might you be able to explain why Arwen is sitting with the laundry?"
"What?" She stopped reaching and turned around to face him. He stood at the doorway to the den, looking as confused as he voiced sounded. "What do you mean she's 'sitting with the laundry'?"
"Exactly that!" Now he looked bewildered. "I had been looking for her, and I find her in the mud room, sitting on that large metal box! I asked her what she was doing, and she told me she was sitting with the laundry."
The elleth turned completely around and sat flat on the floor. "Was the box she's sitting on have a door on the front?"
Aragorn shook his head.
"Then she's sitting on the washing machine," she told him. "My guess is she wanted to learn to use the washing machine, and now she's waiting on the clothes to get washed."
"That is all?"
Yeah," she nodded. "The box next to the one she's sitting on now is the dryer."
Her cousin ran a hand down his face and then shook his head, baffled. "Thank you for making that clear, Ithilwen. I still do not understand why washing laundry would make her so happy. She never seemed to enjoy it before."
Ithilwen bit her lip as Aragorn left, nodding to Legolas as he passed. She wasn't going to laugh. She wasn't going to laugh. She wasn't going to-
"What is wrong with Aragorn?" Legolas asked, frowning.
"Oh nothing," she tried to brush it off. She couldn't laugh, because then she'd have to explain, and there was no way she could do that. "He was asking about Arwen's self-fullfillment in washing clothes." A snort. Dammit.
"That doesn't make sense. Arwen always found washing clothes to be dull."
She snorted again. Dammit all! She tried clearing her throat, but it didn't work. She had to say it or she'd die, sure as hell. "I guess she never got a happy ending washing clothes before?"
Legolas' previous concerns about his mortal friend were quickly replaced by the concern he now felt for the elleth next to him, who had quickly dissolved into laughter.
"Here, hold this." Ithilwen passed Gimli the plastic controller she had uncoiled and connected to the square console. The dwarf looked at the device carefully, pressing on the different colored buttons and making loud clicking noises.
"What does this do?" he asked her as she pressed the power button.
She scooted back from the game console to sit next to him. "This is how we played video games before motion control," she explained. "The controllers have gotten more joysticks and buttons through the years, but it's pretty self explanatory when you get used to it."
"In other words she just smashed buttons until she figured it out," Fiona jeered from her spot on the couch.
"Well, you ain't wrong," she muttered. Ithilwen watched the screen and directed Gimli to press buttons through the main menu of the game. When the first level finished loading, she paused to explain the game itself. "So in this game you're going to get quests, a lot of which will ask you to drive somewhere. The great thing about this game is that you get directional arrows; if you're going the wrong way they'll turn red, so if you ever get lost, just follow them…"
Gimli listened carefully, as did the others in the room watching curiously, as the elleth walked him through talking to other characters, how to move, run, jump, and interact with the majority of the game environment. By the time he was ready to get into the pink car, he thought his head was spinning from all of the information. She kept it simple, assuring him that with practice it would come without thought.
He pressed the button for the character to get in the car, and slowly pulled out of the driveway…effectively hitting the car that drove behind him. Legolas laughed at him as he grunted, and Ithilwen reached behind Gimli to swat at the elf's shoulder. Gimli managed to get the car going in the right direction, though not without hitting or skimming the sides of other cars.
"Ooh, speed up and drive through that," Ithilwen told him, pointing to the car port with the glass behind it. Gimli pressed harder on the button and the car drove through a spinning gold wrench, effectively fixing any damage the car had taken, and then the sheet of glass. The car fflew through the air and landed further down the street, obliterating a tree and a few pedestrians in the process.
Then the character driving giggled, which made Gimli laugh. He laughed harder as one of the people he hit moaned out "This - is a really bad day!".
Fiona, who had been enjoying the expressions of the others in the room, felt it prudent to point out the meter in the bottom right of the screen. "Keep an eye out on that yellow bar. Anytime you hit something, be it a person, car, tree…person disguised as a chess piece, that meter will fill up. If it approaches red, you need to slow down and let it go down, cause if the screen flashes 'Hit & Run', you're going to have the cops after you. And they'll take some of your coins if they catch you."
"They'd have to catch me, lass," Gimli grinned, completely immersed in the game. "We dwarves are natural sprinters!"
Morwen could hear the sounds of crashing, laughing, and what she assumed was swearing coming from the den. That amount of noise could only mean that someone was learning how to play modern games. Luckily she didn't have any conference calls to take, or she'd be taking her laptop out on the front porch.
More shouts. 'Or maybe the end of the driveway,' she thought.
Really, all she had to work on was a few reports for the Records office. Between coming home and scaring her youngest child half to death, the massive house cleaning session, and then reuniting with her husband and kin, there hadn't been time. So getting a reminder email for the fifth time from one of the interns in Records was the kick in the pants she needed. It could have been passed down to her assistant to take care of, if she had ever taken on one. She was a higher-up in the company that had worked her way through the ranks over the years; even her superiors couldn't understand why she chose to do the work herself.
The truth of it was, she didn't want to have to explain herself to an assistant. From her experience in dealing with others' assistants, they had a tendency to become a more vital part of the hirer's life. She couldn't bring herself to get that close. She damn sure didn't want to have to lie about why she never aged if they stayed on for an extended length of time. No, an assistant would have made things too complicated.
So she suppressed a bored yawn and began to type. Morwen could still recall the days when she was being trained to use the typewriter. She found the keys on the laptop to be easier to use, even if the sensors were extreme. The day the offices had pushed out the clunky PCs to be used, Morwen had struggled. It had taken both Ithilwen and Fiona to help her use the proper typing positions, having been taught themselves in school. If it weren't for the efficiency, she'd have written her reports out by hand. 'Then again the interns wouldn't be able to read cursive,' she thought bitterly.
Sitting across from her was Haldir, who was quietly thumbing through one of the many books in the house. A quick glance told her it was one of the old college biology textbooks. He appeared to be engrossed in the book, if the look of concentration was a clue. Then again, it may have just been him trying to make sense of the structure of a plant cell. He never spoke about anything he was looking at, knowing that she was working. Idly she wondered if he was trying to learn about the things the girls had to find common ground with them.
That was a big concern she had been noticing. Haldir never mentioned it, and she never prodded, but she could tell that sometimes he wished he knew more about his children. He had missed out on seeing Ithilwen grow up, even learning that she had taken in two more children in her absence. Now he was being told to accept that his oldest daughter may have already found her fëa-mate, and she was growing more certain that her nephew had taken an interest in the other daughter. Furthermore was the matter of leaving this world. What would become of Fiona and Bernard? Would either of them wish to go to middle-earth? Would they be allowed to go to middle-earth? Hell, could they even be accepted into Valinor?
Was it any wonder that she hadn't started those reports until now?
Haldir must have sensed her anxiety rise, because he reached around the laptop to clasp her hand. "Something is bothering you."
"You have no idea," she whispered.
"I can imagine."
Morwen squeezed the hand he was holding. "I just have a lot on my mind. So much has happened in the last couple of weeks, not that I'd change it for the world."
"You're worried about our children."
She shrugged. "That's part of it," she sighed. "There's so much to be done before we leave, I don't even know where to begin."
"Would writing it down ease your mind?"
"It's worth a try. I don't want to leave any loose ends when we return home. The sooner we start removing our presence from this world, the better." Morwen paused, the realization hitting her. "I think I know what I need to do first."
Haldir frowned, not being able to tell if her expression were of relief or more anxiousness. "What would that be?"
"Well," she smiled, for the first time since that morning, "that once I submit these reports, I'm going beginning writing my two-weeks notice."
"Is that for the best?" he asked, unsure. "That would not hinder you, would it?"
"No, it'd be a relief!" she laughed. "In the company, I have the power to reccommend a replacement, so in the time I'll be preparing to leave, they can be promoted with a smooth transition! Much better than leaving without warning!"
Morwen looked absolutely giddy with this decision. She squeezed Haldir's hand again as she leaned over to kiss his cheek, then returned to her reports with renewed vigor. He decided not to question her further about it. She had made up her mind, and while he couldn't make sense of her "work", she seemed to have already figured out how to make it work.
The issue of her job was already decided and in the process of being taken care of in her head. That still left about a thousand other problems to contend with. Ticking one item off that long list was plenty satisfying though.
