Chapter 34 - The one least expected
Elanor sprang forward with a wordless cry, at the same instant as Georgia stumbled towards her. They collided with force, arms clawing one another close with desperate fury that almost carried the younger Ravenscroft girl off her feet.
"Georgia!" Elanor gasped, steadying her sister and squeezing her thin frame as tight as she dared.
"Ellie," sobbed the other, arms moving feverishly across Elanor's back as if to make sure she was genuinely real. "Oh Ellie, what's happening—I can't—Ellie—I think I'm los—"
"Shh," Elanor murmured, the soft reassurance almost drowned out by the thudding of her heart beneath her ribs.
Georgia's here. Georgia, here. Georgia.
Breathe, Elanor, don't forget to breathe.
Georgia's here. How could… Georgia.
Breathe!
Georgia…
Elanor, breathe…
Georgia!
Elanor pushed her sister away until she held her at arm's length.
Focus. Now is not the time for hysterics.
"Georgie," she whispered, rubbing the girl's shoulders. "Come on, just relax. Everything's ok. We're among friends."
Georgia's grimy face was now damp and streaky. She was weeping uncontrollably, her hands scrabbling at her face and neck. Hazel eyes were red-rimmed and full of bleary exhaustion and fear.
"C'mon Georgia, it's ok," Elanor repeated, pulling her sister back against herself. Glancing over Georgia's shoulder, she caught the eye of Boromir, who was watching the situation as if he were profoundly glad that he were not the one comforting a weeping maiden.
Wouldn't be the first time he's had to do that to a member of my family…
Faramir stood beside his brother, and as Elanor raised a helpless eyebrow at them the younger of the two seemed to gather his wits. He hurried to a nearby lounge, removed the various items scattered across it, and gestured that Elanor and her sobbing relative might take a seat.
"Thankyou," Elanor breathed, gently pulling Georgia towards it and urging her to sit. She wrapped her arms around the other girl's shoulders as if she were comforting a small child and not her seventeen-year-old sister.
With Georgia's filthy head pressed against her neck, she was able to observe Boromir and Faramir. The younger embraced his brother warmly, and they spoke quietly enough that she could not catch the exact words over Georgia's moaning. At the conclusion of their discussion, Faramir smiled and gripped Boromir's forearm. The latter responded in kind, before departing through one of the doors leading out of the sitting room, tugging his cloak off as he went.
Georgia continued to shake in Elanor's arms. Forcing herself to remain clam, Elanor watched as Faramir engaged in a hasty tidying of the room before tugging on a piece of string which hung near the door. A servant appeared. Faramir issued an inaudible command. The servant disappeared.
It's ok. Georgia's here. Georgia. Breathe. She's here, she's ok. You're ok. Don't panic. Georgia's got that covered. Just chill out, Elanor. Breathe. Focus. It's alright.
The servant reappeared. Faramir took the tray of tea which she provided and carried it with surprising deftness to a low table within easy reach of Elanor's left hand. As he placed it silently on the wooden surface, he smiled sympathetically and withdrew through the same door as Boromir.
For long minutes, Elanor held her sister mechanically, occasionally rubbing her arm with absent fingers and whispering some combination of "shhh" and "it's ok".
What on earth… what am I going to do… Georgia's here. Georgia. How did…
You'll find out soon enough; she's always had enough words for two people!
It seemed as if Georgia would soon run out of tears, for she wept passionately for longer than Elanor could have believed possible. When her tears were spent, she contented herself with quivering and dry sobs. As her breaths finally slowed, Elanor prised herself free and gently pushed Georgia to sit up on her own.
She was an absolute mess. Snot now mingled with dirt on her once-pretty face, and the green dress she wore was a sorry sight compared to it's earlier state—even having endured a week's worth of constant wear at the festival. Rubbing her eyes with filthy hands, Georgia exhaled shakily.
Then, for the first time in six months, the sisters simply observed one another.
As baffled as Elanor was, it was like cool water in a desert to see Georgia's face. She drank her in, feeling her blurry mental image renewed in high definition as she noted the dark lashes, brown skin and well-shaped mouth which she had forgotten in their separation. Every freckle was reprinted in her mind, every minor imperfection becoming clear and utterly beautiful. She wanted to demand every scrap of information her sister possessed—and perhaps would have, six months ago—but she stilled her tongue. If nothing else, she had learned patience amongst the Elves of Middle-earth.
Georgia, for her part, seemed equally enraptured by sight of her sister's face. She reached for Elanor's hand and gripped it like the key to her sanity.
"Are you ok?" the elder asked tentatively.
"No," Georgia breathed. "Ellie, it's—it's so weird, it's gotta be a dream. I thought I was crazy, 'til I saw you here. Please, tell me I'm not losing my mind!"
"You're not; trust me. It's all ok."
A fresh batch of tears threatened to overwhelm Georgia, so she nodded silently and bit her lip. Elanor slipped an arm around her shoulders once more, mind working rapidly.
She's absolutely wrecked… goodness, was I this bad when I got here?
Pretty much.
Thanks.
Just hurry up; she's going to lose it again if you don't get her somewhere quiet and let her sleep it off. Explaining anything right now is just going to break her.
"Alright, here's what we're going to do; I'm going to find Fa—someone, and we will get you bathed and clean and fresh and find you somewhere to sleep, alright?"
"Ok," quivered Georgia.
"You must be hungry, too. Here. Fa—the servant brought tea, and sweet cakes." Elanor removed her encircling arm and reached over to pass Georgia an assorted collection of scones and pies. "Eat these; I'll be back in a moment."
Rising, Elanor moved tentatively towards the door. She presumed that this was Boromir's suite, and that the central sitting room in which she stood led to various other private apartments. The last thing she wished to do, given her previous experiences with the Gondorian man, was stumble upon him half-naked in the bath. Still, Faramir had followed him, and she needed to deal with things swiftly, before Georgia broke down again. She had just made her mind up to enter despite the potential for disaster when the door swung inwards and Faramir himself emerged.
Seeing her standing before him, he raised a questioning eyebrow. Elanor stepped closer and lowered her voice.
"She's distraught, my lord. Is it possible that she might be given a room somewhere, and a bath and clean clothes? I cannot speak with her at present. I do not want to inconvenience you, but—" Her expression was helpless and bewildered, and Faramir softened as he stood before her.
"You need not have asked, Lady Elanor. I shall send for a servant to fulfil your requests. Whilst I am myself confined to the Houses of Healing—and have perhaps angered the Warden by my sudden and unannounced departure—I am aware that the same may not be said for you. I shall arrange for apartments for you both, close by that you may be near should she require you," he said, half-bowing. His expression was full of compassion and thoughtfulness, and Elanor could have cried with gratitude.
"Thankyou, my lord."
Faramir inclined his head and touched her briefly on the arm as he slipped past to speak with a serving woman. Elanor glanced back to where Georgia was slumped upon the couch, numbly holding an untouched pie and staring into nothing.
"Come on, Georgia," Elanor soothed, realising that pressing her to eat was a pointless endeavour. "Come on. Off to a bath, and then to bed." Grabbing the young woman's hands, Elanor tugged her gently to her feet. By she had coaxed her across the thick carpet, Faramir had returned with a matronly servant in tow. The woman, clad in a gown of neat midnight-blue wool, immediately took charge with gentle firmness.
"Do not fret yourself, my lady," she said, falling in immediately on Georgia's other side. "We shall soon have you quite well settled. Come now."
Elanor shot Faramir a grateful look over her shoulder as the servant guided them down the corridor. They shuffled down several corridors, before entering a tomb-like wing lined by identical black doors. The woman flung open the first and ushered Georgia inside. Elanor followed meekly, rather glad to leave the managing of her sister to the capable servant. To her credit, the woman was extremely gentle, and managed Georgia just as their mother would have.
Mum! What I wouldn't give for you to be here right now, managing this whole mess…
"I will do my best to aid you, my lady, but you must also oblige me," the woman chided kindly, guiding Georgia through the first room to a second. The sitting room was much like Boromir's, though smaller and with a less impressive prospect. The second chamber was, in fact, a bathroom—a place which Elanor had sorely missed in her hasty travels. It was fairly large, tiled fresh white, and had an enormous bathtub. A second servant—this one wearing an apron over her almost-black gown—was busy filling the tub with steamy water.
"Lord Faramir informed me that you are the young woman's sister, Lady Elanor," the woman said, smiling past Georgia's quivering form. "I am Brúnel, housekeeper of the Steward."
"Thankyou for your kindness, Brúnel," Elanor replied, stepping forward and helping to slip Georgia's dress from her quaking shoulders. The girl withstood this treatment without protestation. As the dress was discarded, Elanor realised Georgia still wore her Bonds bra and underwear.
Been a long time since I saw a pair of those!
Brúnel made no comment on the alien undergarments, but frowned slightly when her fingers failed to unclasp the bra.
"Here, let me," Elanor proffered, twirling Georgia by the shoulders and slipping the bra undone with practiced ease. Sadly, the garments were far too filthy and worn to warrant saving. Elanor's own modern underwear had long ago succumbed to excessive wear, and the sight of the familiar label was an unexpected jab to the heart.
"Ellie," murmured Georgia, her eyes like a doe's.
"It's all ok, Georgie," she replied, trying to ignore the other's naked body. Georgia's shoulders were frail and thin, her ribs stuck out from her chest and she was obviously weak and exhausted. The sight of her infirmity made Elanor sick with concern.
Brúnel patted Elanor on the arm as she bustled past.
"Do not trouble yourself, my lady," she said in a reassuring way. "We shall soon have your sister tucked safely in bed."
Elanor lowered herself into the plush armchair.
The room was silent save for Georgia's heavy breaths.
It was a lovely room, if Elanor had cared to admire it; well-made furniture in light oak, and with a rich blue bedspread and upholstery. It lacked personal touches, for there were no ornaments upon the mantle and the candles were new and unlit. Afternoon sunlight filtered through the heavy panes, scattering like a warm smile upon the bed.
The gesture went unanswered, for Elanor's face was fixed in a pensive frown and she cared nothing for tasteful furnishings. Despite her rich gown, she pulled her legs towards her body, curling up on the armchair like she was at home and Georgia had just returned from some school excursion.
Rather than from another world, one that used to be my home…
Truth was, the entire thing was an enormous quandary that Elanor could not even begin to unravel. It was as if someone had torn the rug out from under her feet, just when she had become accustomed to the feel of the peculiar carpet.
I was… this… it's home now. Middle-earth is home, and even though this war is the worst and I'm worried sick half the time… I think it will be fine. And I could have had a life here, because everything at home was gone and I had finally… finally… decided that I'd picked the fantasy life that every teenage girl dreamed about. A life that now includes Elrond as my foster-dad, and Elladan and Elrohir… Legolas… and Glorfindel. Glorfindel. My Glorfindel.
And now your sister comes along and throws the whole thing into uncertainty?
Pretty much. Because suddenly the whole world's back within reach! What if I'm offered the chance to go home now? What if there's a way to get back… what if I have to choose between Tim and Glorfindel… until now I've never really had a choice. I mean, I've had to "choose" to accept it, but it wasn't like I could… actually… pick. I just kind of… made do…
…what if you have to leave?
Elanor clutched at her face with her hands.
If the world hadn't already crashed about her ears with the departure of her newly-realised-beloved, it was swiftly succumbing to gravity's influence now. The War of the Ring wasn't exactly an ideal situation, but—Eru preserve her—they'd make it out ok. They had to. She was dependent on this place and it's survival; or, at least, she had been. Now… she was rudely thrown back into the depths of uncertainty.
What do I say to her when she wakes up? How do I explain that she's in her favourite book series ever? And what if… what if she asks stuff I can't answer… what do I do… oh, Mum! I wish you were here right now.
Leaning her arms upon the side of the armchair, Elanor lay down her head and wept for her troubles as Georgia slumbered on.
21st March, 3019 (Third Age)
"Morning Ellie."
Georgia's raspy voice caused Elanor to jump, her eyes darting upwards from the book she was reading to her sister's form on the bed. The morning sun had yet to reach the west-facing windows of the bedchamber, and left the room in cool shade. Elanor had been so deeply immersed in a text relating the history of Gondor—the first book she had read in English in a long time—that she had not noticed her sister waking.
"Georgia!" she cried, placing the book hastily aside and stumbling towards her sister's bedside. The bath of the previous afternoon had done wonders for Georgia's outward appearance. The mass of dark beige hair had dried overnight, and hung in peculiar kinks and waves from her position upon the pillows. She was thin and paler than usual, but her grin was as Elanor had always remembered, and she flung back the bedcovers to embrace her older sister thoroughly. Her eyes no longer held the animal terror of the day before.
"I have never been so glad to see you in my entire life!" Elanor half-choked, so relieved to feel the warmth of Georgia's thin form through her nightgown.
"Me either," came the muffled response. "Gosh Elanor, I thought I was losing my mind!"
"I am well acquainted with that feeling."
"It feels like forever since I've seen you!"
"Well, it's been some time…"
And now we've got to face it.
Heart quickening, Elanor drew away and sat down upon the coverlet. Georgia joined her, features growing more solemn as she watched her sister.
"There's a lot that's still weird happening, Ellie. Yesterday's pretty blurry—I know I lost it—but I remember enough to know that you were talking to some of my favourite book characters like old mates."
The silence that fell then was not uncomfortable, nor was it ominous; rather, it was deep and brooding, as Elanor was struck by the full weight of explaining a real Middle-earth to someone from home.
"Many peculiar things are happening," she replied, slowly.
"Don't hide it from me," warned Georgia, with a faint twinkle in her hazel eyes. "I'm not stupid. For the last two weeks, I've been wandering the wilderness with someone who is, to all intents and purposes, Boromir son of Denethor. It's starting to look promisingly like I'm in a storybook, Ellie. And I couldn't quite believe it until I saw you, because you're not someone to get taken up in weird… tales, or lies, or tricks. Whatever this is."
Hang on… two weeks?
"How long have you been here, did you say?"
Georgia frowned. "Two weeks. I was wandering around, looking for you just outside the campsite at the festival; Mum said you'd gone looking for me and I must've missed you. I was just climbing one of the hills when I tripped and fell. When I stood back up, everything seemed—different, somehow. Foreign. Way rockier, too, and steeper. And as I continued up to the top of the hill, I saw a man—Boromir. Well, I didn't know that then, but I do now. I thought he was a cosplayer, Ellie, honestly. I thought it was a super good costume, but he was determined he was actually Boromir. So he asked my name, and I said I was Georgia, and I was looking for Elanor—you—he went as white as a ghost and didn't talk for a good ten minutes. He didn't explain himself, just said I should come to Gondor with him as soon as possible. Gondor. I seriously thought he was kidding."
…well… things make a great deal more sense now… and I can't say it's a good thing…
"Two weeks?" Elanor repeated. "Are you quite certain?"
Georgia favoured her with a withering look. "Of course I'm sure, Ellie. I kept count. I thought everyone would worry about how long I'd been gone. I was pretty sus of him for a while; I thought he might be kidnapping me, because who the heck claims to be taking you to Gondor? But the campsite was nowhere to be seen. I asked, and he said that apart from his camp—which was in the wrong direction—he hadn't seen anyone. It was spooky, Ellie, but… kinda exciting, at the same time. At first it was cool. I honestly thought I'd strayed into a storybook, and then it wore kind of thin. We walked for miles, and though he convinced me he wasn't about to rape and murder me, I wasn't totally sure of this Boromir character till we got close to Gondor, and he started talking…"
What the heck is happening?
"Ellie."
Elanor glanced up from the bedspread to meet Georgia's gaze.
"Yes?"
"I'm not a fool," she grinned. "Look, I was pretty upset yesterday. I was so ridiculously tired, and I couldn't believe that I was actually looking at Minas Tirith. But it didn't take me long to realise that—if this place is legit—I'm in the middle of The Lord of the Rings. Boromir wasn't super communicative, but he said enough to let me know that he'd just departed the Fellowship, that two of the company had headed off to Mordor, and the rest gone chasing after the hobbits, Merry and Pippin. Ellie—we're in Middle-earth!"
Tell me something I don't know, Georgia Ravenscroft!
But that still doesn't explain the six months versus two weeks thing…
"Indeed."
Georgia laughed gleefully. "I cannot believe this! It was so weird, wandering with Boromir. But now I'm here, in Minas Tirith, and they're going to win the war… well, it's great! And you're here too, which is just—the best. Everything's great. Imagine, Ellie! It's like all the fanfic I used to read, except here I am living it."
Elanor smiled weakly. "That is true."
"Come on, El, you don't even look that excited!" Georgia admonished. "Mind you, there are several things I need you to answer—firstly, why on earth is Boromir alive? And why did he mention Glorfindel as part of the Fellowship?" She shook her head. "It's definitely like the book… but it's not the same. How did you get here, anyway? Where did you arrive? You've done well to become friends with Faramir within two weeks! Going to steal him from Éowyn, are you?" she laughed.
"Georgia—no."
"Oh, come on, I was just kidding."
"I beg you, Georgia, please. There is a great deal that bewilders me at present, and I am already overburdened with many troubles," Elanor said, rising from the bed and beginning to pace the room.
Georgia wrinkled her nose. "Gosh, you're even talking like Boromir! I mean, you're good at languages I know, but still, that's impressive! Why are you so 'overburdened'? This is Middle-earth! It's awesome!"
Elanor fixed Georgia with her sternest glance. "Please, do not interrupt me. You say you have been here but a fortnight—"
"That's because I have been here a fortnight!"
"—and yet I do not see how this can be. For though it may be but two weeks since you last saw me, I—it's been—it's been a full six months since I saw the festival campgrounds, G." Pausing in her pacing, Elanor looked at her sister imploringly. "I became lost and reappeared in the wilds of Cardolan six months ago, in October by the timeline of Middle-earth."
Georgia was silent, her bubbly demeanour suppressed.
"Georgia," Elanor repeated. "It is little wonder that Boromir was so startled at your appearance and mention of my name; for he first encountered me in the wilds, and took me with him to Rivendell. There I met Elrond, and sojourned for many months, before I departed to ride south with the Grey Company. From thence I travelled to Rohan, dwelt in the company of Éowyn, and rode with the Rohirrim to Minas Tirith. To Boromir, it was as if our first meeting repeated itself; once more he discovered a lone woman, bearing the name of Ravenscroft, and took her with him on his journey. I have been here for half a year, forming friendships and learning to forget home, Georgia. Six months."
Six months!
"Are you sure, Ellie?"
"Of course I'm certain!" the latter snapped, flopping carelessly upon the end of the bed. "Six months is no short space of time. In an instant I found myself enduring the cool weather of Middle-earth's mid-autumn. I endured Christmas and my birthday in the strange company of Rivendell. I believed you all to have given me up for dead! To hear that you were transported, at the same moment in time, but arrived five and a half months later… it defies reason, G!"
Georgia rolled her eyes. "Elanor, we're in Middle-earth. I doubt random time-switches are the most important things we have to worry about. Somehow we both got taken at the same time, but I was skipped straight forward to—when would it be at the moment? March sometime?"
"Yes."
"So that means," she continued, narrowing her eyes in concentration, "we're around the time as the Battle of the Pelennor Fields, yeah?"
Elanor laughed weakly. "You astound me with your memory of dates. It is the 21st of March; the men of Gondor and Rohan began their march to the Black Gate three days ago, and they should reach Mordor on the 24th."
Georgia looked at her in open admiration.
"El, you haven't read the books in years!"
"That is not entirely true; as much as it irked me at first, I discovered you had included your copy of The Lord of the Rings amongst your camping supplies, and—" She cut herself off. Now was probably not an ideal time to confess to losing Georgia's staff and knife belt. "I read them in Rivendell. The Silmarillion remains in Rivendell still, though your copy of Rings—I am afraid I was forced to burn it." She braced herself for an outpouring of wrath. It never came.
"Oh," Georgia said. "Well, that's ok. I mean, you couldn't risk someone finding it, right?"
Thank goodness!
"No. But a few know that I do not come from some land in within Arda. Though," she half-smiled, "I believe that Boromir may be growing suspicious after encountering two members of the Ravenscroft family at opposite ends of the continent."
Georgia laughed heartily. "Fair enough. But you've hardly told me anything, except you got here six months ago. What's happening, Ellie? If you've had half a year—what've you been doing? And you said you started in Eriador? Which means you've been all over the place, lucky thing! All I've done is walk from near Parth Galen down to Minas Tirith, and a long time it took too! Who've you met? It must be—"
"Wait, please," Elanor cried. "One question at a time."
"If you insist," countered her sister, twinkling. Georgia crossed her legs and sat, waiting expectantly. Elanor sighed.
Where do I even start…
At the beginning?
"The entirety of the tale is frightfully tangled, G. It may take some time, for it is not always straightforward…"
Georgia nodded. "I'm sure it'll be fine. Before you start though, is there any chance I can have some breakfast? I'm absolutely starving."
"Of course," Elanor laughed. "Forgive me. I attempted to feed you last night, but you appeared to be distracted. I shall fetch one of the serving girls." She slipped off the bed and smoothed her skirts before returning to the sitting room of the suite. Half a moment after she had rung the bell beside the door, Brúnel appeared.
"Yes, my lady?"
"Lady Georgia is awake. Would you please be able to fetch her some breakfast?"
Brúnel curtseyed. "Of course, my lady. Do you desire anything yourself?"
"Some buttered toast and coffee would be nice," Elanor admitted, thinking back to her meagre dinner of the evening before. She'd been far too anxious to eat.
"As you wish, my lady. I shall send one of the girls with it presently."
"Thankyou, Brúnel."
Ten minutes later, a pretty serving girl entered with a bowl of porridge for Georgia, and the toast and coffee Elanor had requested. After grabbing several slices and pouring herself a generous mug of coffee and cream, Elanor clambered onto the middle of the bed and sat cross-legged.
"Alright," mumbled Georgia through a mouthful of porridge. "You can start now."
Elanor raised an eyebrow at her sister's atrocious table manners, but made no comment.
"I arrived here in a fairly similar fashion to you, I suppose," she began, sipping at the hot drink. "Save that I, unlike you, took several days to encounter Boromir. By he discovered me, I was hungry, exhausted, and utterly hysterical. It was—unpleasant. Little wonder he was so horrified to encounter a woman who claimed kinship with me, for I was nothing more than a disagreeable burden for the weeks that followed." She paused, wondering if Georgia would interrupt. Her sister was uncharacteristically quiet, listening with wide eyes as she shovelled porridge into her mouth. "We walked for perhaps three weeks. I do not wish to dwell on it, for it was horrible. Boromir's food was scarce, for he had journeyed long on his way to Rivendell for the Council of Elrond."
"You got to—" Georgia began, cutting herself short beneath Elanor's baleful stare.
"Yes, G, I did. But I shall come to that soon enough. We walked for many miles, until I quite lost track of time. It was horrid and filthy, I was frightfully hungry, and have never seen such blisters before! When we, at length, reached Rivendell, I woke to see Gandalf the Grey. It was then I realised the reality of my plight; it was not the hideous nightmare I had believed." Elanor stopped to take several bites of toast. The memories hurt somehow, as she thought back to that time when she would've given her right arm to leave Middle-earth.
And now I want to stay, and it's like I'm the Gandalf talking to Georgia…
"But you got through it."
"I did; with little grace, but I did," Elanor said, ruefully. "I was worse than a caged bear. I didn't believe Gandalf, I was hysterical and furious—I saw an Elf for the first time and hardly believed my eyes. If Rivendell had been any less beautiful, or less comfortable… Perhaps I would be buried in the north, rather than speaking with you now. Fortunately Elrond—"
"I cannot believe you've seen Rivendell!"
"It defies words," admitted the elder sister. "You would love it, G. I stayed four months there, as best as I can recall. And Elrond is even more magnificent than the books—"
"Well yeah, Boromir's even more noble than I pictured him to be. They're all so tall! And their shoulders are super broad. I mean, Sean Bean was gorgeous—even if he died, which you haven't explained yet by the way—but not like this! Black hair like the books! And would make every guy back home look kind of… weedy, and weak, and common!"
Elanor couldn't suppress a smile. "Pray, let me finish Georgia! Elrond is even more kingly than Boromir; as lovely as an Elf, but with the powerful build of one of the race of Men. He is kind and wise. I spent a great deal of time in his company," she said, slowly, wondering how to broach the subject of her peculiar relationship with the Elf-lord. "There are many things which I am disinclined to discuss now—but Elrond saw fit to adopt me, of sorts, as a foster-child. I was quite alone, and must have been more mournful than a soaked kit—"
"You got adopted by Lord Elrond."
"That would be what I said, yes."
Georgia let out a high-pitched squeal of delight. "That's such a fan fiction thing to happen, El! I can't believe you—"
"And you, sister, are behaving as a young, idealistic child, fawning over the most powerful people in Arda," retorted Elanor, brushing a curl behind her ear. "You must allow me to finish."
Georgia attempted to look chastened, but the light in her hazel eyes belied the meek expression upon her countenance.
"Of course, Ellie. Continue."
"I have quite forgotten where I was!"
"Elrond adop—"
"Ah, yes. I arrived in Rivendell with Boromir, and it was not merely that I spoke in a peculiar voice, or that my knowledge of Middle-earth surpassed that of any other ordinary woman. My presence upset a balance in the world, for after I awoke Gandalf explained many things to me. He spoke of Frodo's encounter with the Nazgûl—" Georgia looked painfully close to interrupting "—but rather than Elrond drawing him back from the mist of death, Frodo died. Stay your words, for I see the unspoken phrases in your eyes, Georgia. I was distraught when I heard of Frodo's death. I believed I had killed him, the most integral person in the story, save Aragorn. Whilst my appearance shifted the fabric of Arda, Lord Elrond helped me to understand I was not to blame. Yet this is how many things became—"
"Why Boromir is still alive and Glorfindel's in the Fellowship too?" Georgia offered quietly.
"In essence, yes. Rather than having Frodo as Ringbearer, Sam proffered himself instead. And, as peculiar as the notion might be, Gimli has gone with him to Mordor, to Mount Doom."
Georgia laughed in disbelief. "Gosh! Gimli! I mean, he didn't seem terribly tempted by the Ring, not like Boromir… but that's weird. I would've thought Merry or Pippin…"
"Nay; they were taken by orcs."
"But they're ok, right?"
"That part of the story remained unchanged."
"And Glorfindel?"
Elanor glanced down at her coffee, hoping to conceal the blush which crept into her cheeks.
How to explain that I'd… given up on Tim, and come to love Glorfindel instead? Six months for me, two weeks for her… the amount of time she's been here wouldn't have changed any feelings. But half a year's different. It's going to look like the worst kind of betrayal…
"Glorfindel, Gandalf and Elrond all came to know that I was transported here from another world," she said instead. "They were aware of my 'foreknowledge', as they came to refer to it. I spoke to Glorfindel of Boromir's death; his presence within the company managed to save the man from death. However, I was led to believed my efforts had failed, for Boromir should have arrived in Minas Tirith many days ago. Knowing that he was slowed by your presence explains many things, and it brings me joy to know he lives. He is a good man, G."
Georgia smiled. "I know. He was exceedingly kind to me. Very much the gentleman that every teenage girl dreams about."
"Yes, he is courteous indeed."
"Exactly."
Elanor shook her head and laughed softly. "It is the way of things in Middle-earth."
Georgia clapped her hands in delight. "Awesome. If I'm going to be stuck here for a bit, I may as well make the most of a bunch of polite men."
Stuck here for a bit? Far out Georgia, you have no idea! How do I even begin to explain… what it's like being here forever… if we are even going to be here forever…
"It is certainly pleasant," Elanor said, rather shortly. "To return to the tale, however: the Fellowship departed, and I was grieved. I had come to call many of them friends. Legolas in particular—you would treasure meeting him. He is something of an elder brother, though nothing like Orlando Bloom. I believe you would enjoy an acquaintance with him."
"Goodie," Georgia grinned.
"And Elladan and Elrohir—"
"Oh, we don't see much of them! Are they like Elrond? Or those decipher cards that WETA released after the movies? They look cool, but—"
Elanor frowned. "I never saw the decipher cards, but they are very tall, with thin faces. They are strong and yet fair to look upon, with chiseled jaws and well-made brows. Their eyes are deep and grey. They treated me as one of their kin, and when they rode south with the company of Rangers to meet Aragorn, I accompanied them."
"Now that's cool," uttered Georgia, scraping the last of her porridge from the bowl and swallowing it. "So it really does follow the book plotline? No Haldir appearing at Helm's Deep?"
"I was not present at the battle," Elanor said, slowly. "I saw the wreckage which it caused—but I do not believe any of Lothlórien were in attendance." She glanced out of the window. The carnage at Helm's Deep had been horrific, and having ridden through a battle personally, it was as if she could physically smell the stench of death once more.
"Good. I'm glad it's like the books."
Elanor nodded absently. "Yes."
Georgia placed the tray to one side and sat cross-legged like an eager child. "So you rode south to Rohan, and met Aragorn? I guess Legolas and Glorfindel went with him after Merry and Pippin, if Gimli went with Sam."
"Pardon? Oh, yes," Elanor replied, drawing herself back from the nightmare which had threatened to overwhelm her. "Sadly Gandalf the White had already departed for Minas Tirith with Pippin by I encountered them, so I rode to Helm's Deep. We passed by Edoras and climbed the path to Dunharrow. There I met Éowyn—" Georgia's eyes lit up "—and somehow I was persuaded to ride into battle with her and Merry."
"You—"
Elanor fixed her sister with the most serious stare she could. "Georgia, I do not desire to discuss the battle. I just—I can't."
For once, Georgia was silenced without protest. She quirked her eyebrow slightly, as if studying Elanor anew. Then she nodded, as if accepting the changes she observed.
"That's ok. I guess that's how you ended up here?"
"Correct. I was placed in the Houses of Healing with Éowyn and Merry, when the former went to demand that Faramir permit her to leave. Faramir declined, but requested she walk in the gardens with him if it pleased her. After Éowyn returned inside, Faramir asked me to stay and speak with him. We were eating lunch when a soldier—Barhador—came to me and said that Boromir had returned."
"And then you saw I'd come as well."
Elanor nodded. "Correct."
Georgia took a moment to absorb the information, sitting in ponderous silence which was generally alien to her character. Finally she stared at Elanor, perfectly serious.
"And even though all this has been changed—do you still think Sauron can be destroyed?"
You will not cry. You will not cry. Don't you dare. We've been over this. Stop it! No crying!
She sighed. "For the sake of all here, G, I dearly hope so. I have been earnestly hoping and praying for many weeks. If any aside from Frodo may destroy the Ring, Sam shall do it."
Her younger sister nodded, seemingly satisfied with the confidence in Elanor's tone.
I must be getting a lot better at fooling people into thinking I actually believe what I'm saying…
"So when should we hear whether the Ring is destroyed in—"
"Four days," Elanor sighed, brushing the crumbs on her fingers onto the tray.
"Four days," repeated Georgia. "That's ok. We can make four days."
Elanor stared at her. Part of her wanted to scream at her younger sibling, to release all of her pent-up worry and frustration. Four days of anxiety might seem nothing to Georgia, who had been dropped in Middle-earth two weeks before. But Elanor had been dwelling on the slim chance of success for their mission for months. Six months.
It may be a game to her, but for me… she doesn't even begin to get it…
She had withstood the steadily mounting pressure of the coming war; watched her friends ride away, spent sleepless nights in the saddle, and observed the god-forsaken carnage of the battlefield in person. She'd invested herself in this. To know that so many people whom she loved were in peril made four days seem like an unbearable lifetime.
Instead of shouting, Elanor gritted her teeth. She had scolded her sister often enough throughout their childhood and adolescence; this was not the time or place. And, as she pondered it further, she found that she had neither the will nor the inclination to engage in a battle of wills with the fiery Georgia as once she might. She would no longer be her sister's keeper, ever the one lecturing and holding her to account for her frivolity. All of her energy felt sapped away.
I just want it to be over.
So here is the dialoguing between Elanor and Georgia. I know it's an extremely long chapter, basically all discussion between the two, but I wanted to highlight the differences between the sisters (especially compared to Chapter One) after Elanor has spent six months learning to use Middle-earth speak, and grown a lot. I want to demonstrate how her character has developed since the beginning. :)
Anyway, I hope that you enjoyed this last instalment! I made an effort to distinguish Elanor and Georgia's language, mannerisms, etc. and hope that there aren't any gross indiscretions. Please inform me if you notice anything amiss.
Chapter 35 should reach your web browsers shortly as well. I, personally, am excited to see how Elanor's friends deal with Georgia... *chuckles evilly* Especially Éowyn and the twins. Goodness, this is gonna be fun...
Reviews are always treasured!
Finwe. :)