A/N: It took a while for me to find the spirit to complete the chapter but somehow, while crawling along the way it did end after a month. So without further delay, I'll leave this for you all to enjoy.
Dr. Zimmerman: Thank you so much! Hope you love this one too :)
Spriggan: Thanks a lot 3 Hope that you enjoy this one too :)
KariBookworm: I'm so glad that you enjoyed it! Thank you very much and enjoy :)
Hope You Enjoy! RR.
Chapter 22: The Calm.
"Hemlock is used when the procedures are excruciating. " Lord Elrond continued his explanation as he turned the white sheet towards me, to get a look at the appearance of the said plant. "It is poisonous if taken in excessive quantities and allergic reactions could easily cause one their life." I scribbled down the information on my journal and took the scroll extended towards me. "What were the substances used in your times, my lady?" he threw the question while taking in the chart I had made and I was forced to think of the parts that I had not given much thought to before.
"The knowledge has become too complex that it took the shape of another field itself." He looked startled and his brow rose for elaboration. It must've been surprising to see all the knowledge they had, become vast enough to be partitioned so thoroughly. The pastes and pills that were just obtained here were broken down at molecular levels in modern time to wound together such complex entities that were impossible in this day and age. He waited for a moment, wondering if I would elaborate, and when I stayed quiet he moved towards the window, his back towards my figure.
"That is extremely interesting, my lady."
I figured that perhaps I should explain, sensing his desire to know more and raked my brains for the drugs that were under the supervision of an anaesthesia doctor,
"But perhaps some drugs were used mostly. Like cocaine or tetracaine..." I murmured the last two names, looking down at the quilt I was twirling in my fingers. The modern drugs were the result of the success in the field of biotechnology and biochemistry, both of which would be impossible without every single advancement and development in the field since the development of the earliest microscope and the determination of the cell presence by Robert Brown. Looking at the current affairs of Middle Earth it was not likely that anyone would cause such advancement in the wake of the burning fates and I knew that telling them everything without letting them invent for themselves was going to result in a huge failure. Knowledge was so complex because it started from simple observations, of day to day life and resulted in such inventions only due to the data that had been collected by the scientists since the development of natural philosophy itself and had resulted into a mass of intricacies due to the combined efforts of generations. There was supposed to be a chain of events, a series in which the knowledge was supposed to be revealed and I couldn't describe the modern mechanisms without divulging into the buried past which I myself was not enough privy to. Therefore, I just looked at Lord Elrond wondering what those drugs could be called in these times. If they are not already in use then perhaps boiling the plants with water and straining the juice can result in the desired effects.
I rounded up the effects of the analgesics, trying to generalize them for Lord Elrond.
"Perhaps something that causes loss of senses, feeling extremely happy or agitated..." I elaborated, counting the things that are usually the effects of old drugs, "Or fast heartbeat I meant beating of the heart, sweating or sometimes fever too."
Seeing Lord Elrond rummage around the shelves, I continued, comprehending the fact that perhaps he was coming onto something. He flipped through the journal, coming across a few plants that caused fever and unconsciousness. Shaking my head I moved around the aisle, searching for the Great book on vegetation and greens around here. I knew of a few plants, from earlier papers and searches in university but the names of such plants were not the same here, leading to another setback in the study. For Lord Elrond the healing arts were focused on efficient healing and spiritual cleansing, their magical powers helping them immensely to better treatment but in some cases, only magic wasn't enough. If he wanted me to explore the area of my own field, here in Middle Earth, then I needed better foundations to walk on. I flipped through the species of plants listed on the bulky volume, searching for something akin to poppy. If I got that then the effects of higher drugs could be attained.
"Most of the things that cause loss of consciousness can be used because at that moment one must make a person lose their senses." I murmured drawing his attention back to myself as I set down the book on the table and leaned forward to continue the search. His brow creased for the moment my eyes flickered to his,
"Treatment of a patient depends mostly on the response of a patient." he replied, "I understand for painful procedures but is it better to keep them awake."
I considered his words, it was true perhaps that without the scans and machines the most empowering word was that of a patient (which was true even in the Modern times) and considering the fact that leading the patient to such deep unconsciousness can result in a blockage, perhaps it wasn't the best option. I chewed thoughtfully on my lip, wondering what to do. It was disheartening that I wasn't really contributing,
"In these times perhaps yes," I started looking at him, "But a patient does show response even in their semi-conscious state." He looked as if he wanted me to elaborate and just as I opened my mouth to explain the functioning of the peripheral nervous system and the unconscious and instinctive response to the sensations of pain, the door to the library burst open with a loud clang, jerking me to drop the papers in my hand. I looked back to see the cause of such disturbance and the frown died on my face as I saw the pale face of Gistofiel. He turned towards Lord Elrond and the bow he delivered was swift and stiff.
"My Lord!"
Then at the beckoning of Lord Elrond continued, the haste in his voice wavering to find control.
"Pardon the intrusion but horrifying word has arrived."
Lord Elrond took the letter from his hands, rolling out the paper and what he read brought an uncharacteristic wariness and fear in his gaze. The moment passed just as soon and again he stood tall and assertive, his next words uttered with strength and command.
"Send word to Glorfindel." And just as Gwestofiel was about to leave, he continued, the hesitancy in his tone making my frown deeper.
"Call Elrohir, Elladan and Filvendor to arrive as well."
Noticing their haste, I started assembling my things,
"Perhaps I should..." I murmured when his gaze shifted towards me for a brief second but the moment was cut off as Lord Glorfindel came barging into the room. Disregarding all else, he turned towards Lord Elrond.
"I heard that there was news," he asked. The atmosphere turned precarious and I paused my fidgeting hands as I stared at them both. The back of the librarian vanished around the corner and I made haste to leave. With my things placed in a tomb of supplies on the side, I unconsciously held a book close to my chest and weaved out of the room. The doors of the library were left open and the next words of Lord Glorfindel were spoken with a harshness that made my steps falter.
"The one." he had said, his faint tone drifting towards the end of the corridor and the wheels in my brain begun to churn as I remembered the accounts of war from centuries ago. 'But it couldn't be' I thought, biting my lip as I wiled my feet to keep moving and resisted the urge to look back at the hurried steps arriving from the other end just as I vanished down the turn.
Trotting aimlessly across the courtyard, with my mind in a calculating frenzy I recalled all the accounts I had read. Those about Sauron, about the ring he forged and the power he ruled with. The accounts that had been placed neatly in order in the restricted section of Lord Elrond's personal library. The handwriting, if I remembered correctly was of Lord Elrond and he was also the leader of the elves during that era, therefore, it was extremely probable that he saw the ring with his own eyes. But then how was it lost? Where was it kept? Why did a piece of metal matter so much? Why does it even matters now? But most importantly, if it was so devilish, why wasn't it destroyed?
The questions buzzed in my mind and the curiosity burned in my chest when I remembered the torn page in Lord Elrond's otherwise perfect book. Why was the page not there? Why were the accounts removed? What was the mistake that Lord Elrond regrets the most? I asked myself but to no avail. The sole of my shoe scrubbed against the grass and I snapped back to the present only to realise that I was nearing the stables. Wondering at the unconscious hope of my brain to see those three before they were inevitably thrown into another life-changing scouting, I entered the huge establishment and my nose wrinkled in response to the concentrated smell.
It didn't take long for them to barge into the stables and I took a step back from patting the coat of Filvendor's stallion as it perked up at it's master's arrival.
"You're leaving," I said, not finding the voice to say anymore. My eyes flickered from the uncertainty of Filvendor's eyes to the clenched fists of Elrohir and found the eyes of Elladan, the cold rage in those orbs terrifying me.
"The One," I asked, and saw the immediate effect on their stance. Their bodies becoming so tense as if strung by the hands of a samisen.
"Yes." Filvendor's voice cut across my sentence and somehow that one word answered all the questions I had, "Yes." he said again, the strong conviction in his voice melting to reveal a tone of distress.
"The war is no longer looming on the horizon Lanette," Elladan replied, "There are many countries that are teetering on the brink of that fire." I couldn't help the contempt rise in my voice,
"and you're riding to prevent that?" my tone was sarcastic, but the effect was ruined by the tremble at the end of my words. I pressed my lips together, in an effort to hide the shaking in my stance but it was to no effect as Filvendor's arm settled across my shoulder. I didn't know whether they'll come back alright or even come back alive. If we could meet orcs on way to Bree then their journey surely will be horrendous. It had been months since I had trekked my way to Rivendell and the horrifying scenes of the past filtered across my mind, making my body go cold with fear. They say that the more you face your fears the more you become resilient to them but thinking of those foul creatures in hundreds and thousands, their army facing one of the men in the war was so menacing that I hated this whole concept.
Elladan braved a small smile, his hands taking the reign of his horse and guiding it out of the saddle, "No, we're riding to seek the wisdom of the fair."
"And I'm only scouting, although a bit far this time," added Filvendor his worried tone mixing with his tryna be light attitude and creating a weird effect that made my eyebrow crease on its own. Shaking my head to rid of the thoughts, and reminding myself to remain fearless, at least outwardly, for their sakes I turned towards Elladan, my eyes tracing his movements while he saddled his horse.
"The decision hasn't been made yet?" I asked and saw all of them pause their work to stare at me.
"The letters Lord Elrond wrote a while ago." I trailed off at the alarm in Elladan's eyes which was promptly masked with a smirk.
"Perhaps you're being too perceptive Lanette." Elrohir's voice, soft and light, cut across my stare game with Elladan. I wondered if they really thought me stupid enough to not click the signs that something was being planned. Especially when I was always around the library and could see all the things the librarian and the calligrapher wrote for Lord Elrond. Also, why would they be searching for the customs of messaging the dwarves that supposedly hate them? Unless there was a bigger problem that needed to be sorted. With the One found, and the war knocking on the door, the accounts of the Last Alliance seemed to get repeated every day. I cast another disappointed look at them and couldn't resist rolling my eyes.
"Perhaps I am." I said, breaking off the question in their eyes, "Or perhaps I need to know what the prophecy meant." They looked surprised at the change of direction and I twirled my feet absent-mindedly, my eyes fixed over a spot outside the window.
"If I think about it, the few initial lines of the prophecy depicted my life till now. It isn't so complex if it has already come to pass." There was silence following my voice and I sighed at their incompetence to tell me anything. I didn't even know what Lord Elrond saw about me, how he knew my circumstances and I had this ringing suspicion that Elladan was aware of it all.
"You'll get your answers, Lanette if you wait a while," he replied, his voice guarded and I couldn't tell what he was hiding beneath the smirk on his face.
"Every time I have been promised answers in this land, I only end up embroiled in yet more questions for which I am not willing to search the answers for." My face contorted in distaste as I replied to his promise.
Then trying to change the topic when the silence stretched to become painful, I elbowed him playfully (or as playful I could get with his royal ass),
"And I thought that Lord Elrond was the wisest man ever."
"Our mothers." he murmured, his eyes softening for a moment when he perhaps remembered something about his mother and I felt my heart melting in sorrow because by now even I knew what happened to this family, "They tend to be wiser." At his tone, I felt my mind drifting for a moment at the memories of my own mother, that beautiful, kind, a compassionate and independent lady that pushed me to reveal myself unapologetically to the world. I felt my heart squeezing at the memory of her face, and even though I felt my eyes drifting shut to see her face imprinted on my lids I started to realise that her face was vanishing little by little from my mind. Even though I remembered her voice, her words, her touch, likes and dislikes somehow the image in my mind was getting dulled and my eyes snapped open in an effort to not let the tears settle beneath the list. I had no choice but to push the memories back and concentrate on the conversation at hand.
The door opened to reveal Gwestofiel with three bags which he dropped at the floor. The trance that had settled for a while evaporated on his arrival and even though his eyes shifted across us in surprise, he nodded his head in greeting, "Here are your supplies." There was a little talk between the four and a few clasps behind that felt like good luck and I busied myself with patting a horse that looked so much like Barnaby that I had become fond of it, although for the love of my life I couldn't remember its name.
They strapped the bags to the horse and said their goodbyes, and just as they were about to board, my hand settled on Elladan's arm, a question prevalent in my mind. I knew that it was only him that had been privy to what Lord Elrond said about me.
"Did your father fight in the first alliance? Do you know about it? " At his nod, I continued, the words finding themselves out of my mouth,
"Was there someone like me during that time." Understanding my question, he turned towards me forcing me to take a step back to face his height.
"He was a lieutenant in the army and held the confidence of Isildur Himself." My eyebrows raised at that. He must've arrived in good conditions and a lieutenant in the army? Was he a soldier in modern times too?
"Although he didn't seem to disapprove of the world too much and perhaps had not such adverse reaction to the traditions." I made a sound at the back of my mouth wondering how a man of our times could be alright with the world how it was today. Unless he was from olden times of our world too... Then of course.
"Of course. He was a man." I said, the distaste apparent in my tone. Elladan's brow raised at my tone and I saw the amusement flickering in his eyes before he continued,
"My father didn't pay much heed to him. Until he arrived in Rivendell asking for repentance." I nodded, remembering that I had the scroll he himself had written so perhaps I should go and read it now.
"Thanks," I said and looking at the readied stance of Filvendor and Elrohir I stepped back to let him get on his stallion.
I stared for a long and hard moment at their backs disappearing down the plateau. The questions and thoughts buzzing in my mind until I felt borderline dizzy. No matter how much I tried I couldn't make the sight of their backs disappear from my mind, the words of Elrohir prevalent in my mind from when they had ridden out for their last scout,
"This is the last time we ride to scout the area. The next time we leave it'll be for war." and the words made a stone settle painfully in my stomach.
The shadows flickered across the walls, the light of the flame glowing blood red behind my lids. The usual quiet of the Hall of Fire, that had once appeared nice and calm to me settled around my senses as a painful taunt and I couldn't help but draw my knees to my chest and rest my head on the wall, hoping against hope for a moment of sleep. The letter, that I had brought up the courage to finally open was lying a bit sideways. I had anticipated the worst, wondering what was written in it, rather there was only the shortened tale of the life and choices of a man wronged in his life. It was sad and traumatising, reading what he went through, how he tried to adapt to the land around him, how he was misled by the deceptive promise of the Lord of the Rings and how his selfishness costed him more than he could bear. The last part was the one that played at my heartstrings, this letter was the one he wrote in the last moments of his humane form, the tears from that moment still imprinted on the aeon-old paper, as a part of curse or the last material memory of him, who was to say.
Eugene was his name, he said. A man of the army, born and bred during the turbulent times of the early 1900s. A man that had started to adapt to the new advancements of science and was suddenly dragged back to the era where nothing he knew of life mattered anymore. I wondered what his response might've been, had he been a man of the twenty-first century, how would he have adapted. I wondered what his decisions would've been had he been in my situation. Would've it been harder to adapt, or would it have been the same for him. How did being in the army help his case? How did he become one of the trusted men of Isildur? But alas such details were not the part of the brief tale of his life. Reading the letter was a journey, a short one but filled with so many emotions and feelings that it left me drained, perhaps because I was imagining myself in all the situations he had been in and learning about the deception, to warn against which he had written this letter, I wondered how things would've been different had I not known about the deceptive promise. Would I even get the promise, to begin with? And what would be my choice in the end?
I sighed again, leaning against the wall as the bliss of the sleep overtook my consciousness. Since those four had left more than a week ago, all the elves around Lord Elrond and the man himself has been preparing for something that I have been turning a blind eye to, or trying to, I thought as my mind shifted to a few days back when an old man, Mithrandir, I found out later, appeared in Rivendell all beaten and battered and bearing news that seemed to suck out the very life out of Lord Elrond and then a few days ago Glorfindel had arrived in all the hurry and even Bilbo, who had been too kind to keep me company had been taken up by a visitor that no one was allowed to visit. No one but the very top tier. I had heard of the arrival of three other hobbits and a man that was loved by almost all the elves here but hadn't had a chance to meet any of them. That was also probably my own fault, I knew that because these days my only destination was the library, the kitchens and this hall, sometimes navigating myself to the quiet of the waterfall just outside the valley. Although the last leisure had been cut off since the arrival of the guests and I myself had seen the shadows lurking beneath the light when I had unknowingly ventured too far and had got quite an earful from Glorfindel, someone I had not even seen raise his voice. It had taken a lot of constraints to not snap back that I was not a mind reader to know the details that everyone had been hiding. But he was Lord Glorfindel, a man whose presence was as dominant as Lord Elrond and I didn't have the energy to get into a spat. So I had settled for a glare directed at his back as I moved back towards the valley.
Somehow looking at everyone's expressions I had taken to stay away, whatever was happening was far too important and arduous that they perhaps did not need another person to deal with.
That is why I found myself sitting huddled in the Hall of Fire hoping for sleep that had been taken by the recurring nightmares. The shadows swirled in my lids, swirling and curling until I could see the fearsome shapes of orcs swirling around. The few of those creatures multiplied into an army that rampaged across the plains of Pelennor until all I could see was blood, death and decay spread across the land, a bloodied blade in my lap as I screamed for the lives vanishing before me. It happened as a sequence, with all the people I've associated with in Gondor. The remains of Calyniel, Brinielel, Anariel, Naimla, Brilon left wasting in the grounds, sometimes even hanging off of the walls, making all my dreams appear fearsome and unbearable. Sometimes when I twisted and turned in my dreams I could also see the others, Eohere, Filvendor, Elladan and Elrohir. Sometimes even Glorfindel as their bodies get crushed under the ruthless rampage of the orcs.
I was startled awake as a blade impaled my heart, just like many times it had before in my nightmares and could do nothing but wipe a quivering hand over the cold sweat streaming down the forehead. My neck creaked in protest and I realised that I had fallen asleep in the Hall of Fire and with little courage, I reminded myself that those nightmares were nothing more than mere illusions and the world had not yet fallen into such chaos that I dreamt off.
The rays of the sun had not yet broken out of the dull grey of the sky and I gulped down the fresh air of the morning, its cool essence making my worries dissipate for a moment. I clutched my coat tighter against the cold breeze of November morning and although I was not a fan of cold harsh mornings, something about the peaceful abode of Rivendell calmed my frazzled mind and I found it to be more peaceful than sleeping, especially since these days rest was not being associated with much-needed sleep.
I wondered why the nightmares had suddenly begun. Looking behind at all the encounters with orc I knew that perhaps at that time I had squashed that fear and worry because I thought that I will go back, that all of those encounters would end up being one fearsome and prolonged dream that only I will be privy to as I woke up in my old bed with the alarm ringing on the bedside. Then the third time, I had won over them, a feat that I myself was proud of and in the rush of the moment to save Filvendor, the encounter was faded to the back of my consciousness. But now, as the promise of war with orcs was coming nearer and nearer with no other dream to escape into, the reality of the fear was solidifying in my mind and I couldn't help but think of the scenarios that had not yet happened. I wondered if I had an option, and giving it a long thought I realised that I did. Lord Elrond was not a man to push anyone to do his bidding and considering the fact that he wasn't sure how my actions will affect the fate of this world (considering that they will affect it at all) it all came down to what I wanted to do. Which ended being the biggest problem of it all. 'What did I want to do?' I asked myself before sitting on the rock at the main gardens. Did I want to fight in the war? No, I didn't. But did I want to run and hide hoping that others win the war for me? No, I didn't want that either. I had sword practice, from some of the best swordsmen available and considering the fact that I was much more experienced than mere farmer or Baker boys (that I had seen returning from some battles back in Gondor) that will have to inevitably fight on their side, sitting back to let them do the deed was cruel. That was the one thing in which I didn't want gender to effect on the most. I could fight and if the situation arose where I had the choice to either fight or wait I knew that I was not a person to ever sit back and wait, constantly praying and worrying if those I knew would come back. I had seen glimpses of what the wait of mothers and lovers during the olden wars was when I had seen Filvendor and the others riding away on scouting and even that bit of glimpse had been unbearable. Now, unlike most of the women, I had a choice, which I was going to avail when the time came.
I sat for a long while in the dark of the garden, until the sun split the dull grey into a vibrant blue, basking the land with its soft warmth. I leaned my head back, taking in the warmth of the sun that felt pleasant against the biting cold of the wind that had been chilling me to the bones for the last hour or so. I leaned back until I fell on the grass bed letting the ground mould into my stiff back and letting my eyes trace over the clouds as they swirled on the sky perhaps marking an impending downpour. The peace of the moment made my mind swirl back to the prophecy I had heard, the one that Lord Elrond even claimed that he knew not what to make of. It took a while for me to remember the words but even if I tried to make some sense of it I couldn't make it out except for the first few phrases that I knew depicted my life till now. But the rest... I wondered what was I supposed to fight for? Who were those that I'll stay in their company? what was I supposed to fight for? why was I even supposed to fight? what was the reason for the prophecy? I ran a hand through my hair, letting out a loud groan of frustration. Nearly jumping out of my skin at the chuckle heard from above me, my eyes snapped open and my hand travelled instinctively to a small knife that I had been instructed by Glorfindel to carry around. The amused smirk of the man in question was the first thing I saw and couldn't help but jump to my feet, brushing off the grass and blushing in mortification. I knew from experience the types of faces I made while struggling with a decision myself and to think that he had seen me argue with my own self...
"There is much on your mind?" he asked, his polite tone masking an undertone of amusement that made me try to act cool and brush off the incidence.
"Don't us all," I repeated, hoping that I appeared as nonchalant as I had when I had first talked to Elrohir. He looked as if he wanted to say something but decided against it as he led me to the location Lord Elrond wanted to meet me at.
I let the subject drop, my mind instead, focusing on why Lord Elrond would want to suddenly meet me after a week of nonchalance.
My question was soon answered though, as I entered a brightly lit room, with minimal supplies and housing the people I wasn't yet introduced to. I managed a small smile for Bilbo, who looked pale and too worried for his jolly outlook, and the smile turned to a nod an acknowledgement as I saw the frazzled youth beside him. Sparing another look at his frayed hair and wrinkled clothes, I nearly commented on the dark circles beneath his eyes but prevented to do so because of the ones that were quite visible beneath mine also. Lord Elrond ushered me over to the patient lying on the sole bed, and I fidgeted under the strict gaze of the old wizard.
"The wound is deep and extremely dangerous," Lord Elrond was saying as I took in the hobbit's appearance, "the anaesthesia was highly effective."
I inclined my head, willing for him to continue. My hand found its way to his neck and took in the pulse, missing the way the Gandalf's hand tightened on his stick.
"There seems to be still a piece of weapon stuck in his flesh," he continued, ignoring the wth! Look I was giving him at the moment, "although opening the wound without the proper diagnosis is too big of a gamble."
"Is it?" I murmured, my voice taking a sarcastic edge in spite of myself, "and how long is it until he survives with the shards inside?" I asked. My mind took in his steady yet painfully slow heartbeat. The rasping breath and the fever that was teetering on the brink of hazardous and the only thought that passed through my mind was not even a day. Looking into Lord Elrond's eyes I knew that he agreed.
"I remember that our conversation about the responses was left interrupted," he said and with a sinking in my stomach, I realised what he was really pointing to. "You were insistent that a person can respond even with the barest hint of consciousness," I nodded, remembering the times when we had to use ECG to measure the level of anaesthesia or to measure the brain activity. In those conditions, sometimes even a zap to the wrist showed increased activity in the par to the brain but the fact being that it all was probably when hooked up to the machines.
My brain churned to find the sole solution as I asked Gandalf to move to let in more light on the chest and removed the cloth to see the sharp wound meticulously sewed from beneath. It was perhaps true that the anaesthesia of the current times was not as good as those in modern times so perhaps there was a lapse In unconsciousness even if for a moment.
"The Peripheral nervous system does respond to the unconscious responses of pain. Look for a jump in the pulse no matter how small it is," Asking Lord Elrond I snatched away the cloth to get a better view of the wound instead something shimmered across my periphery. On instinct, my eyes travelled to the piece of gold dangling from the neck of the hobbit and all the nightmares I was trying hard to forget came rushing back to my mind. The screams echoed in my brain, shrill and piercing until I felt as if my head would split open. The blood and gore vanished and I saw a huge eye suspended in a ball of fire and saw myself gifting the ring that I just saw a glimpse of and a peaceful world suspended in the wake of my action. I faintly made out the hands of Gandalf supporting my fall and the fate to meet with the ground was not fulfilled when I leaned on Gandalf for support. The colours came back in successive vibrancy and the voices that had before dimmed into indecipherable whispers magnified into worried words. I gasped for air, waving an arm to tell that I was alright and stood on shaky feet, the visions still clear in my mind. I suddenly knew what the ring wanted from me, the power it had exerted over me to show how my actions will help the people stay alive. I barely stopped my twitching fingers as Gandalf's hand grasped my wrist in warning. Looking into his grey orbs I nodded once, taking my hand out of the loose grip and covering the shimmering gold with the edge of his shirt. The action seemed to return the life to the room and everyone breathed a collective sigh. I nearly laughed at the effect this piece of jewellery was having on us all but focused on my work, with a feeling that no one will appreciate a pun about the great ring, especially when they were not aware of the scene I saw and what the ring had promised me.
Pressing my hands gingerly on the wound, I held an eye open, waiting for a minute show of consciousness, dilation of the pupil, a jump in heartbeat, a twitch in muscle but nothing came by even after I had pressed the wound and its surrounding areas twice. Moving a centimetre sideways I pressed at the ribs and quite miraculously I thought that I saw a twitch of the fingers, looking into the brown orbs I wondered if the pupils had dilated and somehow it felt as they were. I pressed down at the area again, more gingerly this time and met Lord Elrond's eye when he straightened after what was surely a jump in the pulse.
"It is thankfully lodged in the rib muscles, a bit of a difference and there would've been no chance of his life."
Lord Elrond nodded in confirmation and I moved to let him take over. For a while we both inspected the wounds, still worrying about the exact location.
"If it somehow lodged itself inside the ribs, then it will be extremely risky to let it rest for another moment." he nodded his head in confirmation to my words.
"I'll draw a picture," I said suddenly, making all of them pause to look at me. "A draft if you may. We've had extensive studies of the subject, I'm sure that it'll be detailed enough to help."
It took me a while to get it done. A few hours to be exact. I sat on the chair beside the window, bent over the sketch in my lap, trying to remember the anatomy that I had studied in med school, all the structures I saw during the operations. By the time I was finished with the sketch of the left part of the middle portion of the abdomen, the sun was moving down the other half of the sky showing it to be about four.
Lord Elrond took his time studying anatomy and when I was sure that he was satisfied, by the appreciable look he gave me, I was up and about to leave. I knew that he and his best healer were up to this case and seeing as they were ready for the operation, I saw no reason for me to intervene and moved towards the door.
My mind was now focusing back on the scene I had seen. I was just out of the door, hoping to get a bit of bite before someone stopped me. My eyes fell on the three men, Lord Elrond, who was busy opening the wound, Gandalf, the whose tired gaze was observing from the side and Glorfindel whose blue eyes turned to mine in question. My steps halted at the scene, although insignificant, and I wondered if it was perhaps this easy. If we were just supposed to submit the ring and it'll return to a peaceful abode that It once was. But it was not, I realised looking at the back of Lord Elrond's hunched over the hobbit to save just one more life, the crease of his brow set in determination or stubbornness, who was to say, the old, stooped back of Gandalf that somehow still spoke of power and charisma, the beaten face and the split lip telling a story of greater secrets than that met the eye. The power of Lord Glorfindel, in mystique and kindness that somehow vanished when it came to association with the Dark Lord. It was because of these that I realised that perhaps it was not. If it was this easy then these men would've tried it aeons before I had. Because it was their land, their people, their home. If there was one thing that I needed to do right now was to trust, to believe in the people of one side and to stick to the decision that I make. And as I returned the questioning incline of Glorfindel with a shaking smile of my own I realised that perhaps I never needed to choose a side because in my mind perhaps choosing between kindness and compassion or dominance and thirst for power was not really a choice that I needed to make. Even if I was allowed to change that decision a hundred times, I thought, my eyes blurring with the memories I had made here, I will always end up with the same choice. The same choice to change the misery of this world with every bit of compassion that I can spare.
"I didn't do anything special."I insisted, coming around the bed to check Frodo's vitals one last time. I was surprised by the effects of hemlock, and if things would keep up like this it was highly probable that he'll wake up in a few hours even though it wasn't even a day after the surgery. "We both know that the effect of hemlock was wearing off to gauge the response." I continued my tirade and closed the door softly behind me accompanying Lord Elrond to his study.
"I just happened to be lucky enough to be the one to notice it at that moment."
I was rewarded with a small smile, directed at me from the corner of his mouth.
"You never seem to take praise for your work," he said, his words stretching out with a sigh. I could do nothing, so instead of a long tirade, just took to shaking my head firmly, staying by my point,
"I do, but only when I really do contribute, in a way someone wouldn't perhaps be able to."
He nodded and we let the topic drop. Reaching into the library I was greeted by the towering figure of Gandalf, bent over Lord Elrond's desk. He perked up at our arrival and with a nod of acknowledgement turned towards me. In those few days, while passing by in the hallways and remembering his cold demeanour from yesterday I was surprised to see the mischievous twinkle in his eye. One of his eyebrows raised instinctively as he tipped his hat doing a half greeting,
"I'm afraid there hasn't yet been an introduction." he started. His old and deep voice somehow appeared calm and friendly and I felt the tension at meeting such a well-known wizard dissipate from my shoulders, especially since my last encounter could hardly be considered pleasant.
I returned the smile, extending a hand in greeting and returned his handshake with a firm hold of my own.
"There need not be. I've heard much about you Gandalf."
I was rewarded by a wholesome laugh and I could see the glimpses of why he was so popular among the fellows here.
"And I about you Lady Lanette."
A small laugh reminded us of our companion and we both followed his lead to the balcony. The view was breathtaking, especially as this was the Lord's personal lawn, loved and cared for once by his dear wife. It was perhaps the reason one could see the special care and affection given to every crook and corner of the lawn, shimmering in the diluted rays of the sun making a picturesque frame.
I had barely settled down in the chair, looking at all the various blueprints spread out before us before Lord Elrond's voice pulled me out of the train of curiosity.
"Can I ask you what you saw?"
I didn't even need to look up to see what he meant by that. I wanted to pretend indifference because I myself had taken the heed of someone that perhaps understood me the most but the scenes sprayed across my lids as if branded on my eyes and I couldn't help the shiver of fear that passed through my body at the evil temptation.
Nevertheless, I braved a smile, a moment later, and tried nonchalance,
"Not much," I started, but then looking at their expressions changed the tone, "Or should I say nothing to worry about."
There was silence for just a moment as Gandalf leaned forward in his chair, that was coincidentally quite opposite from me and seemed to take in all my thought from just my bare expression.
"Sometimes the smallest of the problems magnify into the most substantial," he replied, and this time his voice held the quality of patience and understanding as if he knew what the One ring could've shown somebody. A bare flicker of foreboding passed his eye and his expression coaxed me to reveal the details.
It took some internal debate, and I was sure that it showed quite visibly on my face before I came to the decision and took a long sigh,
"I've been having nightmares for a while."
"It's fine," I replied again, waving a hand massively, looking at the worry passing through their eyes.
"There is one particular dream in which I see the fall of Gondor, over and over again," I said, the scenes of gory and bloodshed replaying in my mind. I closed my eyes, breathing in for a moment. The scene shifted to the happiness of the general public and the beauty I had seen in that little moment. "The ring promised a life of happiness if I return it."
They both reacted simultaneously, a look of warning passing between them. I shook my head at their antics and gave a small smile, of what I hoped was a reassurance.
"But don't worry, I don't plan to."
They looked as dubious as I thought they would be. It was no doubt that the power of the ring was compelling, its promises too sweet and deceptive and unless I hadn't known about what had happened in the past, especially to the one person, Eugene Alfred, that I could perhaps associate with the most, I would've also believed those promises. But now I knew about the reality and knew that it would take much much more to break my trust in those that had helped me so much. It would take months or even years of continued persistence to make me believe in the Dark Lord. And I was sure that I wasn't important enough to be shown that image more than once. It was meant for only those eyes that made contact with the golden temptation and with much care I was sure that I wouldn't have to see it again, for a long long time.
That is why I could give the smile of confidence, etching across my face. I breathed in a long breath, trying to dissipate the deep stone in my stomach that had settled a few weeks back and turned my head to look at Lord Elrond,
"I've heard of its powers to lead people to despair, promising what they want the most."
Lord Elrond stared for a long moment and I returned the gaze, knowing that in some situations only eyes can be the windows to the soul. In some situations, even words were not necessary to prove one's honesty.
"How are you sure of its deception?" Gandalf asked, perhaps poking at the last burning embers of the doubt but I could see his trust, beneath aeons of knowledge and circumstances.
"I read the letter of Eugene, and.." I started, my words coming to a halt as I made up my words.
"I chose a side I'm willing to trust."
They both looked satisfied with the answer and hoping to lead the conversation away I threw a jab at Lord Elrond, one that I was sure he didn't know the answer to, yet.
"Did anything come of the prophecy?"
Lord Elrond leaned back with a sigh and shook his head. He turned his gaze towards me a moment later,
"I think you should be made aware of how I knew you." he started, "I have the ability to see the future wrapped in riddles."
"I heard," I replied nodding in confirmation to the tales I've heard from Filvendor. Sometimes in the lazy days in-between the stresses of war when we found enough time to laze around and to momentarily forget the troubles that were shadowing all life.
"For three consecutive days I saw a woman, whom I was not aware of at that moment," he said, his demeanour set in a way that I knew that woman to be me.
I leaned forward, knowing that it was something I was supposed to know,
"One day I saw you, in a world unlike I've ever seen but the journey there brought you no little amount of sorrow."
I looked down at those words, a small pang spreading across my chest. Braving a smile I looked on, hoping him to drop the topic of my old home. He took the hint quite easily and steered the conversation back into place with practised ease,
"The next day I saw you in the fall of Gondor, screaming as the last remains of the stronghold fell to despair." That drew a gasp of surprise out of me because I also had the same dream taunting my peace for the past many days. Gandalf's eyebrow was raised in question as I uttered a surprised, "You saw that too?"
"Was it similar to what you've seen?"
"I," I started, my heart beating wildly in my chest. I couldn't help but wonder if it had a specific meaning if it was true that is, why we both had seen it, "Yes," I nodded in confirmation, "I did see it."
I missed the concerned look exchanged between the two as my unfocused gaze met with the table, the events of the dream and those the ring had displayed running through my mind. It all came to a halt with the very question that had been in the mind and instinctively it fell upon my lips and I fathomed my words moments after I had uttered them.
"Then, is Gondor fated to fall?"
It led to a tense silence, during which Gandalf took out a pipe from somewhere in his robe. The smoke soon engulfed the surroundings, and although it was irritating to be surrounded by, it was also the last thing that I was probably concerned with. I couldn't help but think how the smoke delivered a mysterious effect to the atmosphere and quite naturally my anticipation for the answer rose,
"We know not what will become of it," Lord Elrond begun after a while of contemplation, his words guarded and measured, "but in that dream, I felt as if you've not been to Imladris." I felt my eyebrow raise in surprise at the revelation. It was quite a news because I was almost driven out of Gondor to come to seek help here.
Still, I nodded my head, because in my small stay in Middle Earth I had somehow learned the significance minute decisions had on our overall life and I wouldn't be surprised to hear if it effected in that way,
"So that was the choice of remaining in Gondor forever."
Lord Elrond continued his explanation after a pause, giving me enough time to gather my thoughts and focus again on the perceptions,
"In the third, I saw you looking from above the valley as orcs storm into the last stronghold of the free world."
I stared at him for a long moment. Somehow I had hoped that at least one of the paths he saw would have a nice future, the one that I could steer and aim towards but all the things that he had told...
"Nothing is much." I murmured, my fingers tracing patterns into the table, "According to what you saw everything ends with despair."
It looked as if Lord Elrond had expected that response because a small smile graced his features and the look he gave me was a mix between understanding and compassion,
"Everything I saw," he said, leaning forward into a more comfortable position, "was where you stopped moving with your will."
I snorted at that, a sarcastic smile pulling unbidden onto my face,
"I'm pretty sure that me moving will not affect the well being of this world."
"It will not." Gandalf chose that moment to interrupt. Although he was speaking with us his gaze fixed on the wall, perhaps reminiscent of some past that I was not privy to, "There is never a man whose sole actions change the world for the better."
Then his kind gaze fixed into me, and I couldn't look away from those icy depths and could do nothing but nod along as I listened to his opinion,
"Even when someone is hailed as the hero, those nameless people that pushed and helped his every decision, without them, the hero wouldn't have won."
"Sometimes even a small smile of gratitude can pull someone over from the darkness." Lord Elrond added, a smile directed in my direction that made me remember what Lord Dervorin had said about Calyniel.
"And Lady Lanette you have the ability to bring gratitude with the skilled healing you can provide"
I looked at my lap, the weight of his words was pleasant but somehow also empowering, something that made me want to shake away the speech and simultaneously take it to the heart and follow it to the length,
"People usually need someone to look to," Gandalf continued, "pillar, a wall, a source of hope and that is what they cannot find in this age."
"I think that your prophecy points towards that, to bring hope in a world severely deficient in it." his eyes somehow twinkled with mischief and goodness that Bilbo had described as his characteristic features but it was my first time seeing them and I could wholeheartedly agree with him when he said that such a look could probe you into doing the most dangerous shit just for the sake of adventure.
"Take it as an advice from an old soul, if you may."
"That is a bit... Philosophical." I started, the words failing me when I sought about how to reply.
His eyes twinkled merrily and he leaned sideways onto his stick so that he could see me fully without the jug hindering my face,
"You do not agree with me."
"You cannot blame me."
He laughed at the prompt reply and nodded his head once, shrugging his shoulders as if admitting defeat,
"With time you'll learn what you can do in these circumstances."
"Take the current situation to rest like a calm before the storm," he added, more of as an afterthought while raking a hand through his long beard,
I sighed at those words, remembering the various guests that were appearing out of thin air these days, it seemed. I was, admittedly, holed up in the library most hours but every time I took a venture down to the hall, there were always some new guests, of some new race or origin that I was unfamiliar with. It came with no less anxiety of seeing only new faces and I had taken to detour to the kitchens only, in my never-ending pursuit of a good meal. All those new faces spoke of only one thing, the great alliance that had happened once before, it was having the same effects as those tales,
"So you are after all taking precautions to land into the fight." I sighed, leaning into my propped arm. His brow fraught with worry and for a moment he looked indecisive.
"We have to."
"Frodo shall wake soon enough." I probed the subject more, wondering if they'll give into the fact and would reveal why all of them were gathering in Rivendell but it ended with no such luck as Gandalf got up from his seat with a knowing look etched into his face at my never-ending curiosity,
"And perhaps the path we're supposed to take will be decided too."
"I can't believe how much I'm starting to believe in fate and destiny since coming here. " I murmured in response and with a nod of leave followed Gandalf as Lord Elrond busied himself with the recently arrived guest seeking his help. On the way out of the door, my gaze met with a dwarf, small and bulky yet covered in hair and weapons to an extent that he looked menacing even in his stature. I gave a small smirk before I disappeared down the corridor, his gobsmacked look at my attire running through my mind. I had almost forgotten how fun it was to leave people speechless after all these months in Rivendell.
I followed Gandalf down the hallway and was about to part ways when his voice stopped me in my tracks.
"No, dear are you going to the Great Hall?" he said and I followed his movements with a nod as he came to stand by me.
I once again had to marvel at his towering height, a long way from my 5'5 stature and had to lean back on my feet as he bent down to look at me,
"Shall this old man accompany you?" he said leaning on his old stick for support and I shook my head at the amusement quite visible on his face.
"If you want to," I said, shrugging and moved to keep up my pace.
"Have you heard Bilbo's tale?"
I looked at him from the corner of my eye as we trudged along the stone path to the great courtyard of the valley,
"I did," I said, my voice lowering to a whisper. I smiled at all the tales he had told me and how at first those tales had helped me adapt to my surroundings. Gandalf took my pleasant mood as a cue to continue,
"He was also a mere hobbit, living a peaceful life in a house others of his race were envious of." I nodded at his words and inclined my head, urging him to speak more,
"It was by chance that he was coaxed into an adventure, where people believed that he could do better than he trusted himself to."
Realising where he was going, my pace slowed to stroll and I stared at his back that was now pacing in front of me,
"His life has also been an array of mistakes and luck siding with him every time to make him a hero of his own story."
So had it with me, I thought, suddenly realising why I and Bilbo had hit it up so quickly
"That is why I think Bilbo has taken a liking to you," Gandalf replied, turning his head sideways as I caught up to him and then after a small pause continued his tirade,
"You were also led here by chance, you've also had your choices reduced and people demanding more than what you think yourself capable of delivering but still you've been saving the people along the way," he said, stroking his beard and his eyes turned to me in question, asking me if I thought the same. My eyes lowered to the grass growing stubbornly in between the stones and for a moment I thought of a reply, the three years of my life replaying over.
"Perhaps that is how it is going to be for you too."
I nodded, albeit hesitantly, still wondering if this was how my few years had been,
"You just need to follow what your heart tells and your mind speaks, the rest will play it out." A soft smile graced my lips at those words, that was frighteningly similar to those Filvendor had spoken once before and I couldn't help but nod in acceptance because this was what I had learned to embrace about my life here,
"Bilbo will not be the one remembered if the ring is taken care of, it'll be the person that destroys it in the deepest depth of flames, but it was Bilbo who had found and hidden the ring for long enough to make us strengthen our alliances."
Another startled gasp escaped my lips and I stopped to face him
"Bilbo found the ring!", He nodded as if it was surprising that I was not privy to the detail but with all the secrecy going along the ring it was no surprise that Bilbo did not even make a roundabout mention about the tinker.
"It is no surprise that it ended up in Frodo's hands. " I murmured in understanding, the things in the history finally making a point with the present. Although there were still many gaps left the story was making some sense.
"That hobbit is Frodo?" I said out loud. The image of Frodo, of a hobbit in his sixties, was a lot older than what I saw of him. He looked too young, even a decade or younger than me but to say that he's fifty...
"Isn't he supposed to be fifty or something?"
Gandalf gave a hearty laugh, his eyes crinkling at my gobsmacked expression,
"Sixty."
I barely held myself from uttering some sassy English phrase. Realising that I had my hand on my chest and face in a typical 'Excuse me! What did the bitch just say?' expression. I let my hand drop and nodded,
"Wow." Very eloquent.
"I'll keep your advice in mind," I said when the great hall came into sight. Just as I was about to leave Gandalf's voice stopped me in the way, the previous mirth gone and replaced with a serious face,
"Give it some thought. Perhaps you'll find what is it, you're supposed to do."
"Will do," I replied and with a nod parted the way.
I had barely stuffed the last chunk of bread into my mouth when the head of a hobbit peaked from behind the tree. Squinting at the scene, I struggled to chew down the piece, so that at least I'll be able to respond. The hobbit peaked once again and then realising that his actions were already caught, he looked at his feet and then braved a step forward, away from the natural shield. I remembered him from yesterday, the one hobbit that was always by Frodo's side and smiled at him, waving him over.
"Miss," he began, a shy smile peeking from behind his fringes and I had to remind myself again that this hobbit, no matter how young and cute he looked was probably much older than me. I inclined my head to the side, the title Miss after so many months bringing back a few memories of my own. It had been so long since someone had called me that, I wasn't sure if there was anyone after Eohere who bothered thinking of me as not a Lady but just another casual acquaintance. Thinking of the first man that had pushed me to step this far, I wondered what he was doing. Initially, I would've said that he was perhaps roaming around the lands, scouting the areas alone and with his free will but when Ehara had called him a Lord... I had realised that I wasn't privy that much to his present life. We both had shared with one another the wounds of the past, the responsibilities we must uptake and the hopes we carried in our hearts and during the tirades of past and future, we had forgotten to divulge into the most real of them both. The present.
Shaking my head off from such thoughts I listened in to the hobbit, "Lord Elrond said that you, miss, helped him in healing master Frodo."
He seemed to be gaining confidence in his speech and his worry fraught gaze, still soft with compassion and life, focused onto my face as his words hurried along, "I oughta be thanking you, miss, I was about to lose all hope."
I gave a small chuckle at that, looking down at my hands in gratitude at his words, "Lord Elrond, I'm afraid, did exaggerate. I merely pointed out a few things, the rest," I said, waving my hand around, "was all his work."
He shook his head for a moment as if he was sure of my contribution and had just opened a mouth to say something when two other hobbits rushed into the ground. Their demeanour was so unlike this shy and respecting hobbit. Their loud steps echoed on the path and they waved around their arms, successfully diverting both of our attention. In their jovial mood, they failed to acknowledge my presence and instead latched onto the first Hobbit, giving the news of Frodo's awakening. The hobbit's eyes shone with happiness and relief and they rushed forward to leave, then the hobbit, remembering me, turned in uncertainty. I just waved him off, imploring him to move to see his friend knowing that perhaps it was best to not hold them from their happiness. He gave a small bow, of gratitude, and was off before I could say anything more. I was left alone in the gardens by the main hall, a small smile etched across my face because of happiness that one can only get by saving a patient.
I leaned back on the chair, hearing the wood creak under the pressure as I pushed back on it only to swing forward, again. Sighing, I turned the chair around so I could straddle it and supported my chin on the back, following Calyniel's busy figure with my half-lidded eyes. The cold breeze was sharp and to escape the whipping pressure I took refuge in the great hall, planning a quiet snack within the confines of the warm abode. Although all of those hopes were shattered when I entered to see the elves rushing around, under the orders of Lady Arwen herself. Amidst the chaos, I had turned to sneak off but was called by Lady Arwen. Her quiet gaze, knowledgeable and compassionate as it had always been held such a peculiar mixture of excitement, pleasure and sadness. Suddenly I was transported to the day, about a month back when I had seen the same in the face of Calyniel, the same face that I even see these days, the one that was always on the top of her consciousness, so much that now she could not even erase the traces of the look of love and simultaneous heartbreak from her eyes.
Looking back at the times I've met the Lady, this was the first time I had seen her expressions displayed so vibrantly under her command and I wondered who had come to make her this way. It was impossible to tell, though, as the magnitude of the guests in Rivendell, from all races and walks of life, increased. There were elves, from the kingdom of Lothlorien and the delegation of the Prince of Mirkwood (whom I wanted to catch a glimpse of. After all, the only princes I knew were of UK, Prince Harry and Charles, the particularly famous ones), dwarves from Erebor, especially Gloin and his son Gimli (whom I wanted to meet especially to catch a glimpse of at least one person from the company of Thorin Oakenshield but was unsure in stranger company. So I remained out of Bilbo's way, lest he had those companions, although I was sure that he was too busy with his heir the past four days) and of course the man I was dreading, the one that appeared on the night Frodo arrived and the one that I had taken special care to keep at an arm's length and it was no other than the favourite Lord of Gondor, Lord Boromir. There wasn't a particular reason why I was dreading him, it was just the fact that the me he saw in Gondor and the me he'll see here will have a 180 phase difference, or so he'll perhaps think. That is if he'll remember me. But with my luck, he'll not only know that I was there as the maid of Lord Dervorin when we first saw each other but also the next time as a Lady Companion of Lady Cathiel that was escaping with books and was breaking about all of their moral (ahmsexistahm) rules. He didn't know my story and it was a large chance that he'll wonder what a maid from Gondor was doing in the homely house of Elves, more prominently as a student of Lord Elrond, and a friend of his greatest soldiers. Also, why was I getting an invitation for the second time by the Lady of Light herself? (That I wondered myself)
I had looked back at Arwen with a small smile and when she realised that the concern in my gaze was directed at her expression she tried to hide it all under a mask of courtesy.
"Lady Lanette," she started and inclined her head towards me as she looked on to the preparations unfolding before her. I traced her gaze, looking at the elves rushing about, preparing the hall for a great feast, pinpointing the location of Calyniel as she gave orders of her own (being the head of the guest regulation authority, it seemed, if that was even a thing). I waited for her to continue, "I hope the days are treating you well."
"I have no complaints.," I replied, a polite smile stretching across my lips. Arwen seemed to find this amusing as for a moment her eyes held mirth when she replied,
"You never did seem to,"
I chose not to reply, my spats with her brother Elladan coming to mind and bringing a giggle up to my throat as I nodded.
She paused for a moment,
"Can I help you with something? " pointing to my appearance in the hall and I just shook my head, albeit a bit sheepishly,
"Oh, Nah," I replied, waving my hand, "I was just here to find Calyniel but I guess she's busy." My sentence ended with a shrug and Arwen gave a small smile. Her eyes shifted to Calyniel, who was busy in the corner and shook her head,
"I think she'll appreciate your company while she keeps busy."
Biting my lip and wondering why I just couldn't have my quiet exist, I gave Arwen another smile and decided to keep her company. With an incline of my head, I replied,
"Then I'll leave you to it." and was just about to leave when her voice cut across the buzzing Hall,
"Lady Lanette, you shall be sitting at the main table with us." her tone was informative as if she thought I knew what she was talking about but I just stared blankly at her head,
"What tables?"
For a moment I saw surprise flicker through her eyes and the next words came out calculated, in a way that she couldn't believe me,
"The feast today.," and then a gasp, "Don't tell me you don't plan to be here."
I barely held my face from contorting in frustration. I was planning to catch up on much-needed sleep today. The words of Gandalf and Lord Elrond had a soothing effect and it felt nice to know that they were aware of my fears and were actively doing something about them. I was sure that today, with the reasonable peace of mind and lightness of heart I'll be able to sleep normally and this had been avoiding every elf I knew lest they asked me if I was coming, except Calyniel, she always let me do what I wanted,
"Ah this feast. " my words felt dragged out to my own ears and the laugh I gave was half anxious and half tired. Looking back at Arwen, I tried not to let her aura effect me, which was proving to be extremely difficult.
"Well, Um, I'm feeling a bit lethargic, as in under the weather so I thought I might skip..." I trailed off at the sudden clarity in her expression, as if she was searching for something and had just foxing it.
"Are you avoiding someone's company?" her words were cautious, and the step towards me felt even more so. I had a feeling that she felt like I'll bolt for the door at any moment, which was extremely tempting, I had to agree. Also, her question was partly true, I was avoiding Lord Boromir who will be surely there, I could say with one hundred and fifty per cent clarity.
"I'm not actively avoiding. I just don't feel like socialising..." I murmured, chancing a peek at her troubled expression. All the internal war waging in me came to an abrupt halt as my mind uttered a tired fiiiiine,
"But if you insist I'll be there," I replied to her, returning the sudden smile on her face,
"But about this main table, will Calyniel be there?"
She shook her head,
"Only the esteemed guests," she replied, her voice holding an apologetic tint, "Frodo will be," she added as an afterthought as if suddenly remembering that I was there before Frodo's operation. I rolled my eyes at that,
"He doesn't even know me." I murmured, waving off her words, "Other hobbits too?" Perhaps if Samwise was there, we could at least make nice talk,
"They'll be a bit sideways."
That caused a surprised voice out of me. Wasn't this feast for them then why were they the ones not getting any protocol?
"Aren't they like the main guests?" I spoke out loud my thoughts, and the continued suddenly remembering something, "Wait! Why am I even sitting amidst the main guests?" Arwen looked as if to say that it was pretty obvious. When I kept looking at her for a plausible reason she looked even more surprised.
"You're the wielder of Anariel, a pupil of my father, a woman of the prophecy," With every other thing she pointed I felt my spirit draining down the gutter. All of the things being those that I didn't associate with myself at the first talk. Wielder of Anariel? By chance.
Pupil of Lord Elrond? Like so many others.
A woman of prophecy? I didn't even know why.
"I-" I started, the words failing in my throat. Arwen's gaze softened and a look of recognition passed through her face. A look that said that she understood my concerns well enough to be bothered by them.
"and a friend of my brothers." she finished, with a kindness that made me stare at her wondering why.
"I'm afraid I'll get the shorter end of the stick if I fail to invite you."
Knowing that she was talking about her brothers I felt a smile curling on my face, pure and unbidden.
"I've just known them for a while."
She shook her head. Her next words were those that I agreed with wholeheartedly.
"Some friendships take aeons and yet cannot deepen beyond simple friendliness and some friendships span across a few months and completely change a person." A string of memories came to me, Memories of my time before coming here and after, while evolving with all the people I knew here. The feeling was warm and self-sufficient was engulfing and so pleasant that it made me forget my worries, if only for a moment.
"They do."
Now as I stared at Calyniel's back as she strutted busily and left me alone to dwell In my loneliness, I remembered my conversation with Lady Arwen that had happened just a few hours back and wondered how many hours I could've saved if I pretended to not hear her. Even if I was going to get dragged to the feast then these few hours of preparations could've been saved for a nice nap. I would've perhaps also felt rejunivated rather than ready to drop dead at moment's notice or to make someone drop dead at a moment's notice.
I swung the chair forward, dropping it to its legs a moment later and ignoring the loud creak of protest emitted from its legs. My half-asleep state was disrupted by the voice of Calyniel and I jumped up at the sudden attendance,
"Don't!"
"What the hell man!" I said, my voice so loud that all the business of the hall dropped dead for a moment. With my cheeks burning in embarrassment and a half-lidded glare in Calyniel's direction, I uttered an apology and waited a moment until all the working was again aflow.
At Calyniel's insistence, I went to freshen up and dress with an instruction to be down by the evening. With three hours in my belt, I took one long look at my comfy comforters and dropped dead on them, pleading with my subconscious mind to wake me up before I'm unreasonably late.
I thought that I was past nightmares and perhaps it was true too because even though I started to have the dream that always spelt the destruction of Gondor, it felt different. I wasn't there like before, I wasn't there to see the destruction enfolding but rather I saw myself on a cliff far North, lazing with a bottle of red wine and looked past towards the grand structure of Minas Tirith as it was torn down to pieces. There was something calm and serene in my expression and even though I could hear the screams filtering in the back of my mind I felt peaceful. Their faces, bloody and bruised, becoming pale with their every last breath burned on my lids but vanished as I took another swig of the drink, the taste burning down my throat. The wind blew sharply, the cold days of December dawning into a frenzy of snow and I drew the cloak tightly around me. Suddenly there came the sound of footsteps and the next thing I knew was the bottle falling from my grasp, a scream coming shrill from my own throat and I woke up with a start.
With the recent dream playing in the back of my mind in a fuzzy sequence I wiped a shaky hand over my wet forehead and shivered as the cold breeze swept in from the crack in the window. I tried to remember what I saw but the details were too fuzzy and I felt disoriented with the continual lack of sleep that my head throbbed painfully. What I could remember was my peace of mind at seeing the death of all those that I held dear in Middle Earth and that thought was much much scarier than seeing those God-forsaken nightmares straight from hell. Still, I had a promise to keep, I reminded myself and despite the stone settling heavily in my stomach, I got up to get ready, trying miserably to forget about the dream.
Looking myself over the mirror and making sure that I was not missing anything, I looked back at the hourglass draining sand through the small cervix. It was a little over the time but seeing as I was not exactly the woman of the moment, and knowing the people that would probably inquire about me were still out there scouting the perimeters I lazily adjusted the collar, pressing down the embroidered coat, ridding it of imaginary creases. The coat, the jewellery and even the boots were the same that I had worn a while ago. The v neck shirt and the pants were of thicker material to fend off the heat but still, I felt the cold seep into the bones and couldn't even press the coat around me in the fear of ruining its embroidery. Running a hand through the top knot I had made and making sure that the kohl that I had used as a thin eyeliner was not smudged, I pressed my hands to the face, hoping to not appear as lethargic and went on my way.
I could hear the main hall brimming with life from more than a courtyard away. The lights were on full display, shining through the windows of the hall and there were elves filtering about the outer gardens. My steps slowed on their own accord and I ran another hand nervously through my hair making sure that the bangs stayed put in their place. I wondered if I should've worn some sort of dress, to not draw the attention of the guests but the fact that there was a human woman in the land of elves, alone, with no visible companions, was perhaps already too eccentric for them so it was better to not even pretend that I was from Middle-earth. Squaring up my shoulders and mustering up the courage that I had when I first appeared in Middle Earth I moved into the doors. The dinner was not yet set, but the hall was alight with laughter and happiness, all the people mingling around the spaces. From the corner of my eye, I saw Arwen, dressed in her finest with a delicate tiara on her styled hair. She gave the aura of a princess and I wondered whether I was supposed to greet them like all the other guests. For a moment I stood there, by the shadow of the door, taking in the scourage around me until my gaze, quite abruptly, connected with Lord Elrond. He stood by his daughter, his face set in the dignity befitting of a king and the stance as firm and courageous as a warrior, yet his face appeared kind and welcoming and I passed him a smile before he was taken up by some other elves, that appeared to be out of town.
I followed the movements of a few people until my gaze was drawn to the main table, where the guest was already converging. Gandalf met my gaze with a wink in my direction and I nearly rolled my eyes at his carefree demeanour. Every time I saw him(which was not that much) he did seem like a person who would be popular among children for inventing fireworks and magical stuff and he wasn't far from a person whose coax of adventure could stir someone's sleeping spirit to wake with a spark. Tracing the table, my eyes fell on the few elves, Lord Glorfindel in their midst. Next to him sat the Prince, all regal and royal in his fine robes of silk, with a circlet adorning the top of his golden mane. I was a bit shocked to find that Lord Glorfindel appeared more similar to the Mirkwood elves than those of Rivendell and somehow the Prince seemed to be a small reflection of what Lord Glorfindel already was. I had been studying them for too long as the prince's sharp instincts made his eyes snapped towards me. He looked astonished when his eyes made contact with mine and I had to avert my eyes when I saw deep curiosity and question lingering in his intense gaze, too different and foreign than the detached and polite ones I had come to associate with.
Looking down the table I saw Frodo taking his place next to two dwarfs, one of them stood up to greet him, his short stature loaded with expensive jewels that glittered under the dim lighting of the candles. The other one, the dwarf that I had seen outside of Lord Elrond's library sat beside them, listening intently to their conversation but choosing not to partake. Instead, his eyes roamed over the figures of the various elves, a look of distaste and anger lingering over them as his eyes passed the Mirk wood elves.
I looked on as Lord Elrond moved with Lady Arwen to take his place and I saw out of the few seats that were left my location was a seat down from the Prince, just opposite to Lord Boromir, who had just quietly slipped in. My steps halted and I cursed in my mind whoever had made the sitting arrangements but could do nothing but ignore the surprised looks as I took my seat exchanging a polite greeting with Lord Glorfindel and his companions. I barely saw the Prince incline his head, his eyes boring into my skull from the opposite direction. Instead, as I leaned back to let the elf serving the food have access to my plate, I looked up just to see two eyes fixed on my face, both bearing curiosity and astonishment, but one was leaning more towards companionship and one towards recognition I wanted to avoid.
It was quite obvious as both of them stole glances, The prince's gaze wandering over to Lord Glorfindel now and then who was politely engaging all the guests surrounding him. Sometimes his gaze flickered back, wondering whether he should say something and I gripped my fork tighter, knuckles turning white in frustration at the stifling silence.
Halfway through the meal, Lord Boromir's gaze stopped wandering and he stared unabashedly, his eyes wide in recognition and the fork hanging limply in his hands. I knew that he had recognised me and I was extremely thankful when he chose to not say anything reading the social cues. The meal, the long and dragging hour of it, ended and Lord Elrond let the people to the Hall of Fire. All the guests were supposed to follow him and I begrudgingly held out until the guests were dispersed into circles, chatting and laughing among themselves amidst the soft lullaby of the elves. The flame flickered, its light that had felt menacing to me yesterday now, in the presence of such a crowd, shimmered with a warm glow and I stood to the side, staring at the flickering flash of it. A glass of red wine, too thick and intoxicating was held in my hand and I swirled around the liquid, not exactly feeling in the mood to get drunk. That is why I chose to just stare at the liquid, for I knew that just a cup of this special wine was enough to get me drunk. This stuff was nothing like what I knew of the drinks back home.
My eyes flickered around the room and somehow I couldn't help but be on the guard, constantly looking around to see where Lord Boromir was. Sighing in relief as I saw him caught up in discussion with the dwarves I took a few steps back towards the door. It was my strategy, to move back a few steps time and at last to just leave towards the peace of my room.
Suddenly, my eyes made contact with Prince Legolas, who was just moving towards his group of people. He stopped a few feet back and turned to look at me, his brow furrowed in something akin to frustration. It wouldn't have mattered to me, what the said Prince was feeling or thinking, had he not given up the company he was supposed to get to but was instead stalking towards me with determination in his step. It was rude to turn around and flee when I had seen him approaching and he wasn't exactly a person I needed to flee from, he was just a curious person that I wasn't in the mood to indulge but I could. If I could last those few hours in the stuffy Hall, I surely could last a conversation with a trusted elf of Lord Elrond.
He was just a few feet away when suddenly, my arm was pulled and I stumbled on my feet. Barely keeping my balance, I looked up to the face of the intruder only to come across Calyniel's face, bright with happiness and longing.
"They're back!" She whispered, her breath hitching with excitement, "They returned from their latest scout."
At that moment I forgot about Prince Legolas's Crystal gaze fixed at my back and as I left the hall in a hurry, I was oblivious to the two looks boring into my back.
One taught with curiosity that it barely quelled and one taught with astonishment that it barely contained.
To be continued...