Before we begin here are some translations: Muindor/ Muindor-nin : Brother/ My brother
Boro nin : Trust me
Tithen pen : Little one
For Lancelot, because you enjoy all the angst and read like all the drafts...
Elladan stood in the adjoining doorway to their rooms, his eyes gazing worriedly at his brother, who had just barged into his bedroom. The door swinging shut behind him as he stalked towards the strewn pile of clothes on his untidy bed. Elladan chewed at his lip, Elrohir had not said a word to him, he had not even spared him a second glance after Lostoriel slipped away into her chambers and he had stood there staring at his brother for answers.
And answers were what he got, but not the ones he wanted to hear as Elrohir had seen straight through Elladan's guilty look. He knew his brother like the back of his hand, and he knew when he was hiding something from him.
Elrohir had tried to say something to Elladan, to try and comprehend he had just been through, but was too overcome with emotions he couldn't describe and had instead stalked off in the opposite direction. That single expression of betrayal, grief and shock was one Elladan would never forget. Elrohir had just stood, rooted to the spot. Silver tears trailing down his face, his nose flaring in anger and his grey eyes an array of fury and the long years of loss which sprung to the surface.
And to make it worse Elladan had felt every bit of emotion that Elrohir did.
Now, Elrohir hastily undid the silver buttons of his tunic, flinging the black garment across the room where it landed with a heavy thud on the high-backed chair by his desk, causing the chair to tip backwards. Elladan swallowed the growing lump in his throat preparing himself for the storm that was Elrohir. He had always been quick to anger but even quicker to forgiveness. He was not one to hold grudges for long. His heart was much too soft for that. But angering Elrohir was something Elladan had always actively tried to avoid. His brother's anger was quiet, simmering like hot water that eventually boiled over.
"Just don't." he hissed, kicking his boots off and socks off to pull on his old, baggy pyjama pants he refused to get rid of. Elladan swore he hadn't replaced them and had resewn several patches onto the fading black material at least fifty times in the last two centuries.
"Ro…" Elladan moved from the doorway to stand near the hearth against the wall, his arms pressed snugly against his chest.
Elrohir was not swayed by the pain of the softness in his brother's voice.
The storm spilled over.
"No Dan. I don't want to hear how you were trying to protect me. I don't want to hear how you were going to tell me but didn't get a chance to! I- How long did you think you could keep this from me!? I mean, did you think that I wouldn't find out!?"
"Please R…" Elrohir cut him off, appearing inches away from his face.
"How long did you know anyway?" his chest rising and falling, tears freefalling down his angular face.
A guilty look passed over Elladan's face, "Since the end of the skirmish with the orcs."
Elrohir stepped back, processing the information, thinking of the evening they had spent with Estel, Glorfindel and Erestor. Thinking of all the time his brother had had to tell him. He chewed at his thumb nail, the other hand resting firmly on his hip.
"But I saw her only for a short while, I saved her from an orc's blade."
"You saved her! You literally had the entire afternoon to tell me! By the Valar muindor that's not something you forget to mention!"
"Ro you're not listening to me…"
"I'm not listening to you!?" Elrohir exasperatedly threw his hands into the air glaring at his brother.
"No you aren't!" Began Elladan taking a firm step forward and placing both hands on Elrohir's shoulders, "Ro." He said firmly as his brother struggled to move out of his iron grasp.
"Elrohir. She recognized the name 'Tori', she just didn't know it was me. I didn't know if it truly was her until she did. I wasn't even sure if our encounter was real! I was still processing it. I didn't know how to tell you brother. I don't have enough words to tell you how sorry I am that I had not told you earlier."
"Seas!" he spat, "here was time enough when we were disposing of the carcasses! I don't want your apologies!" shouted Elrohir, "Don't you understand!?"
Elladan recoiled at the anger in his brother's voice, he leaned on the small couch in front of the fireplace. "Then what do you want?"
His dull eyes searching the form of fury in front of him, realising that Elrohir just needed to work through what he was feeling. This was how he had been, whenever he was overwhelmed, it always turned to anger.
"This is not just anyone. This is Lostoriel!" his usually soft voice cracked, "If ever there was someone I loved with my whole being down to the last fibre of myself, it was her. I knew for years that she was the one I was going to marry. I promised myself to her. And then she was gone. Like the warmth of sunlight on a winter's day." He sunk onto the edge of his unmade bed, his fair face looking every bit as ancient as he was. The lines creasing his forehead reflecting the long, difficult days of his life.
"And now she's here. She was right there in front of me. I don't…I don't understand." Elrohir dropped his face into his hands, leaning on his knees. His face squeezed in on itself as he shook with his grief, sobs shaking his body.
"Muindur-nin." Elladan carefully came to sit next to him, pulling him into his arms. His brother's tears soaking his pyjama top. He rested his chin on Elrohir's raven hair. "I did not tell you because of what happened when she left. You…" he sighed deeply reliving the bone aching pain he had felt. "You almost completely faded. I didn't know how you would take this. I wasn't sure how to tell you because you. Almost. Died .Elrohir. Boro-nin Ro, if I knew the right way to do this I would have."
Elladan's voice softened as he cupped his brother's face in his hands, grey meeting grey, both looking into a mirror. "You lost your love. I too lost one I loved. This isn't an easy thing for me to understand either."
For a moment the fire died in Elrohir's eyes, comprehension dawning on his face. "No it is not! You know not!" the ashes flared to life.
Elladan snatched his hands away, rising with a look of indignation and hurt. He marched back to his bedroom not wanting to deal with Elrohir's self-centeredness. He couldn't believe that he was capable of being so one-tracked, so absorbed within himself. Placing his hand on the silver doorknob he paused unable to bite back his tongue. "When you're done behaving like the earth revolves around you," he growled, "I'll be here. You are not the only one who lost her."
The door slammed firmly between them.
Elrohir sat on the bed stunned for a moment, swearing when he realised what he had done and rushing towards the wooden door. He gently pressed his forehead on it, hot tears still running rivers down his face. "Dan…Please." He whispered, watching guiltily as the shadows that were on the other side of the door, where his feet were, disappear.
"You think you can defeat me?" his rough voice cut through the roaring of the flames. "I am invincible. I am your doom elfling!" Lostoriel ducked beneath a pillar, jutting her shield to the right in a futile attempt to shield herself from the stream of flames which he breathed out.
She grimaced as the heat of the flames touched her skin, flying around the pillar and stealing the oxygen from the air. Her throat and nose burned, it felt as if someone had melted her lungs. Lostoriel's heart thundered in her chest, her hands and legs trembled like wind on the leaves.
She clawed for breath, her chest rising and falling in quick movements. Her clothing was tattered and burnt, her body was seared and blistered, her muscles feeling as if they hung by the tendon. Blood stained her face, and oozed from her torso as she moved. Most of her hair was singed and had fallen off, it now brushed in ragged, rubbery layers against her shoulders.
"Come little princess. Let's see what good daddy taught you under the trees." Smaug taunted her," Oh yes very intriguing indeed." his voice rose as a thought came to him. The dragon laughed as he rose to his full height, towering above the ruins of the once spectacular dwarf fortress, his claws wrapping around entire staircases. The monstrous, orange flames that licked the walls made him look menacing against the pure sunlight that, streamed through the high windows.
"Perhaps I should pay your little forest a visit. I'm sure they will welcome me." An evil smile pulled at his scaly skin revealing a set of teeth the length of spears and swords and the size of small trees.
Lostoriel's eyes widened, her thoughts screaming in her mind. No she couldn't let him do this. She should have known that he wouldn't, but she was not going to trust the word of a creature of darkness.
Her breaths came quicker before she sucked in what little air she could and screamed as she attempted to stand, the pain intensifying with every move. She leant against the pillar for support, gripping the shield and sword in her hands with renewed strength. I'm going to die. I'm going to die for the ones I love. For the good of the Dwarves. But I'm going to fight for my death.
"Valar give me the courage." she prayed.
Lostoriel closed her eyes, thinking of her kingdom, of her people who would surely die should she fail to kill him. She thought of the elflings in the villages, the creatures of the forest which protected them, she thought of her family, of the twins and of her closest friends who she would most probably never see again.
They were the only ones on her mind when she moved out of coolness of the pillar and into the great shadow that Smaug casted upon the burning floor.
"You will not touch them you witless slug!" she cried brandishing her sword, the strong wind of breath from the dragon was so warm it caused her to sweat as she stood before him. Her tattered cloak flying behind her as she glowed just as brightly as the flames about her. The pure light of the Eldar filling the Dwarven homeland in the face of a merciless shadow. All around her she could hear the sounds of hurrying footsteps, shouts of fear as families and the soldiers rushed to evacuate their home, fading into the background.
Lostoriel looked the beast in his amber eyes with such a deadly expression of determination and danger that Smaug took a step back. The elven princess raised her sword and charged head on. Her shield held in front of her as the dragon bent down and rained a storm of flames upon her. The heat of his fire heated the metal of the shield until it glowed bright orange in her hand. Lostoriel cried out, her fair voice turning into a haunting scream of pain. Intense pain and heat hit her body and the darkness took her.
The elf's eyes cleared as she bolted upright into the dim light her room. Lostoriel wheezed as she struggled to breathe. Her body burning with the numbing pain she felt that day. Her head filled with fluttering birds, her mind feeling as if it were stuck between the past and present. Her left arm felt once again as if she had dipped it in flame. The pain was still unbearable even after all this time. She calmed herself down, willing her skin to cover the flesh deep burns on her body.
Lostoriel held her arm up to study it. The dim light of her casting shadows upon it, giving the burns a haunting look once more. She could feel her skin across her left side pull back to reveal the charred skin below. She remembered waking up on a hospital bed, machines whirring and beeping around her. She remembered the painful drips they had stuck into her veins and the numbing burning sensation that refused to leave her body for years after that.
They had said that she shouldn't have had been able to survive her burns. That her skin shouldn't have been able to grow back so smoothly. They called it a miracle, she called it the power of the Eldar.
The pain had never truly gone away, it flared ferociously whenever she dared to think of that day. Of the floating darkness which had taken her until she laid, deathly pale on that wet grass gasping for air in the twilight.
Lostoriel wiped the tears which had escaped her puffy eyes and threw off the blanket she didn't remember using the night before. Smaug had entered her dreams once again, clawing himself up into her consciousness like a lion stalking its prey. At first she had dismissed the dream as a figment of her imagination. Until it crept into her mind a second and third time and she realised that it was no dream. That is was memory. Apprehension and fear swirled in her stomach as she refused to acknowledge the growing realisation at the back of her mind.
She pushed back the thought staring instead at the bright, yellow light shining through the thick pale-yellow curtains, reminding her of light bouncing off water as they billowed in the wind. She willed her skin to cover the memory and her body to wake up. Her mouth was bitterly dry, the numbness from the light before making itself apparent when she poured a glass of water from the silver pitcher on the small table in front of the fire.
Lostoriel cringed as she remembered what had happened. She had been overwhelmed; she knew that seeing Elrohir had been the tipping point for her. She hadn't imagined that seeing him again would be like that. Lostoriel sighed, biting the skin around her fingers feeling guilty as she realised that she had completely ignored Elladan. And hadn't thanked him for saving her life. She did not however feel terrible about leaving the dwarves, but hated that she had, for a moment been so vulnerable in front of them. She would have to talk to them at some point she knew, but wasn't overly eager to do so today.
A timid knock at the bedroom door drew her away from her musings.
"Come in!" she called, sitting up to neaten her messy, knotted hair which stuck out in all directions and was plastered to the side of her face.
Bilbo Baggins pushed the door open with his elbow, holding it ajar with his shoulder as he carefully balanced a tray full of food and a precariously full pot of tea with his hands.
"Good afternoon!" he smiled cheerfully, "I brought you afternoon tea" he softly kicked the door closed with practised eased.
Lostoriel's nose was assailed with the wonderful smells of bacon and melting cheese and best of all tea. Her stomach growled in hunger as she laughed at Bilbo's greeting.
"Afternoon? You're joking right?" she asked, rising from the chair with a groan, a look of disbelief on her face. Her laughter died down when she saw the amused, but serious expression on Bilbo's face.
"I hate to admit it, but it's almost three o'clock!"
The elf flushed crimson, it hadn't felt like she had been asleep for so long. But then again she had been without sleep for almost three days. Bilbo coughed awkwardly, eyes going from the tray to his arms.
"Oh sorry Bilbo where are my manners!? Here, Ah!" she gasped as the bright light of the afternoon blinded her eyes when she drew back the curtains. Rapidly blinking the flares out her eyes she pushed open the balcony doors, gesturing for Bilbo leave the tray on the small metal table. Before excusing herself, realising that she had the desperate need to relieve herself and see if she could find something to brush her teeth with.
Reappearing several minutes later with a neatly tied pony tail and an apologetic smile Lostoriel sat herself in the white chair opposite Bilbo. The metal scraping harshly on the stone balcony as she pushed it towards the table. "You didn't have to bring me this Bilbo. But I am grateful that you did."
He had lain the food out on the table next to the steaming cup of tea he had poured for her.
"You are most welcome." He smiled warmly gesturing for her to eat, "I…I wanted to. You missed breakfast this morning and lunch and I was beginning to worry. So did Fili and Kili and Ori and-" he cut himself off from his rambling, inhaling deeply. "Last night you didn't look alright when you left, but Aerinniel said you were okay, fast asleep as a matter of fact. Anyway I just thought you would be hungry, so I brought you this with the help of Aerinniel and Lindir of course. It's not afternoon tea as such, but it'll do. I've found that bacon makes any situation better."
Lostoriel huffed a laugh around a mouthful of scrambled eggs and said crispy bacon, at the sheepish smile on his face. She was grateful that she had a friend in him and Aerinniel. So that's who put the blanket on me, she realised making a note to find the elf-maid later and thank her.
"Thank you for caring Bilbo, I'm alright now, you don't have to worry about me." Lostoriel gave his hand a reassuring squeeze before pouring milk into her tea. "Last night was overwhelming, I felt like I was going mad…" she trailed off staring at Bilbo's horrified expression as the Hobbit stared at her milky cup of tea.
"What's the matter mellon-nin?"
Bilbo gave his answer some thought not wanting to come off rude or judgemental. "You…uhmm seem to have a bit too much tea in your milk." He nervously smiled at her serious expression.
She was silent for a moment, trying to see if he was being serious or not and couldn't contain her laughter which spilled out of her like the gurgling river below. "Do I now?"
"Yes. Yes you do." He joined in on the merriment, happy to see her smile.
"I'll have you know that I've always taken my tea this way, overly milky and with two teaspoons of sugar."
He gasped in mock-horror, clutching his shirt over his heart, "That should not be allowed."
The Baggins within him was ready to run away from the sight without second thought, he had prided himself on the perfectly balanced brew he made.
"You sound exactly like Lindir and Galion. They once told me that it should be illegal for me to make tea ever again."
"Well I understand why!" The Hobbit and Elf spent a long moment in laughter as Bilbo demonstrated how to make what he called the "perfectly balanced cup." Once they had settled into their afternoon tea they began to chat aimlessly, with Bilbo telling her about the Shire and his quiet life in the hilled country.
Lostoriel listened with interest as he told her about BagEnd, of his family and of the market square down by the river and the mill. And of the annual garden contest which he refused to participate in after he lost to his rather beast-like cousin Lobelia Sack-Ville Baggins, who had won by unleashing a small population of pests upon his pruned garden. Which had devoured the beautiful arrangement of flowers and plants he and old Gaffer had spent months tending to.
The she-elf was intrigued and admittedly jealous of their homely lifestyle, of the grand, yet small lives they led in their hidden land of peace and prosperity. It reminded her of the farming villages on Earth that she had visited and sometimes stayed in because it reminded her so much of home.
They spoke until the sun began its journey towards the horizon, Bilbo had just finished telling her about his first day- long walk in Rivendell and his amazement and awe towards the Elves and their home when they moved onto the topic of Dwarves. And more specifically of Bilbo's mortifying first encounter with them.
"They did what?" Lostoriel bent over laughing as he told her about how they tumbled into a heap of cloaks and beards when he opened his door and proceeded to pillage his pantry.
"You heard correctly! Then they sang a song about blunting my knives and splashing wine on all my doors! It was terrifying! The lot of them just barged in, falling over one another and to top it off Fili walked across the dining table splashing ale over a perfectly good sliced ham!" Bilbo laughed at the memory and at how horrified he had been over the state they had left the bathroom and kitchen in and of how he was left with a single jar of porridge and several barrels of wine that they hadn't managed to find.
He sipped on his tea with a reluctant smile on his face. That chaotic evening was beginning to feel as if it were worlds away. He had truthfully joined this Quest out of spite after the Dwarves had humiliated him for his "unburglar-like appearance." But the Took in him had been reawakened by the haunting song they'd sung of their homeland and by the string of exciting events that followed him running out his door. Most of all by coming to Rivendell and meeting the Elves, by discovering that the stories Gandalf and his mother had told him as a lad were true. It had always been a dream of his as a young child to travel to new lands, he had spent countless days and nights in the Old Forest with his cousins on his mother's side searching for talking trees, trolls and Elves. He wondered if that curly-haired, wild child would believe that he would one day be on a real adventure.
"That must have been horrible to witness Bilbo! But all the better for it I suppose, or we would have never become friends." Lostoriel uncurled her legs from her side and moved back to the table to grab the last slice of cheese.
Bilbo blushed, he had not expected her to say that. An Elf becoming his friend! The notion would have seemed absurd to him a month ago. He couldn't help but agree with her and yet something within him felt reluctant to do so.
"I suppose so Lostoriel." He smiled contentedly at the Elf leaning against the metal banister. Bilbo was still mesmerized by her, he had believed that Elves were cold, untouchable beings, but she and others like Lord Elrond were beginning to make him see that they were merely people beneath all the legend and ancient appearances.
He came to stand with her, placing his leathery feet between the silver, curving bars. Even with the extra height he only stood just above her waistline, Bilbo felt as if he were standing next to a giant. Lostoriel gazed out at the view before them, her face falling when she noticed the raven-haired elf in the garden below, slumped onto the stone bench below. A small child with dark wavy-hair laid in his arms, nestled comfortably against his chest. She couldn't place the expression that wrinkled Elrohir's face, his eyes blank and full of hurt. She felt the same longing in her bones as he did in his.
Bilbo noticed how her expression changed in seconds and watched as she pushed what she felt away. He suddenly felt reluctant to ask the question that tugged on his mind. Lostoriel seemed to sense this and gently asking, "What's on your mind Master Baggins?"
"I just…I was wondering if you're really not going to come with us?" Bilbo tentatively looked up at her piercing blue eyes which seemed to soften and harden all at once.
Lostoriel turned away from him, inhaling deeply, "I'm not sure whether I want to join the Company yet Bilbo. There is much I must still find out and do before I can make a decision." Her voice trailing off into silence, he felt guilty thinking that he had upset her.
"I'm sorry if I've upset you, I didn't mean to Lostoriel." He backed away to the entrance to her room, hands fidgeting about in his pockets. "I uhmm think I'll go now it's getting late."
He was halfway to the door when Lostoriel appeared behind him, her footsteps barely making a sound on the marbled floor. "Bilbo you did not such thing. There's a lot on my plate right now, but I promise that when I do decide, you'll be the first to know."
"Oh…Thank you." he felt silly for thinking that he'd offended her, "Well I hope that it all turns out alright." He pulled the door open, smiling warmly at the Elf. They had become quick friends in the past few days and he was becoming extremely fond of her and her easy-going nature.
"What's the Elvish word for friend?" he paused at the threshold turning concern hazel eyes towards her.
Lostoriel's eyebrow quirked upwards, he continued to surprise her with his well-intended questions. "Mellon." She answered, the word dancing off her tongue and into Bilbo's ears. The Elven language is pure, merry music thought Bilbo.
"Mel-lon." He tasted the word on his lips, "Whatever you decide I hope…That we remain mellons?" he added the "s" unsure of what the plural would be.
Lostoriel couldn't withhold her smile at his unintended but well-meant mispronunciation, the Elven princess ignored his outstretched hand and bent down engulfing the Hobbit in a hug. His eyes were wide saucers as he awkwardly brought his hands around her shoulders.
"Of course, Bilbo, we shall remain mellyn." She gave him a conspiratorial wink as he turned to leave. Bilbo smiled, waving his goodbye over his shoulder before disappearing down the hallway.
Lostoriel wandered restlessly beneath the trees under the clear navy-blue night, gazing up at the glittering sky, watching how the stars smiled down at her. Though tonight she thought that they were smiling more maliciously than in the serenity.
She had bathed, changed and politely declined Lord Elrond's invitation to dinner and had tugged on her boots unable to relax even after her wonderful afternoon spent with Bilbo. Every time she closed her eyes, she either saw Smaug, or Elrohir or heard Bilbo's question and Thorin and Gandalf's previous conversations which popped into her head and refused to leave. Lostoriel began to wonder about what Lord Elrond had seen and whether it was what she suspected he had seen. She thought about whether anyone in the village she had lived in on Earth had discovered she was gone.
She wondered if that even mattered anymore as she passed over a high stone bridge to the other side of the Valley where the open fields lay. The flowers and grass swayed towards her as she walked by them, the tips of her fingers brushing against them making them seem more vibrant and alive than they were before. The voices of the trees tickled her ears, their hushed song dancing on the cool wind that passed through the Valley, bringing rainclouds into the distant sky.
"Elrohir, what am I going to do about you?" she whispered to herself. Lostoriel knew she would have to find him at some point and speak to him. She just had no plan or vague idea that stretched beyond the word "hello."
She descended a narrow staircase that led to an ancient stone bench that was hidden beneath the tall shrubbery and away from the eyes of the city. It had become one of her favourite places to hide away in Imladris. A great willow tree shaded it and a small, gurgling stream ran in front of it. Tonight, the moonlight bounced off the stream, making the water look like liquid silver widening as it moved snaked through the Valley.
Lostoriel sat there rolling a sharp stone beneath her foot, muttering how she thought the conversation would go. "Oh, so I'm alive now apparently," she whispered rolling her eyes, "And I have an incredibly bad memory too! Though that didn't stop me from freaking out in front of you and an entire Company of Dwarves!" she kicked the rock into the river, sighing heavily in frustration.
"Can't sleep?" she jumped at the deep voice which accompanied the tall, slender frame of a bronze robed Elf. She recognized him and immediately rose to greet him in the traditional Elven way. She placed her right hand over her heart and bowed her head. Lord Elrond mirrored her actions, "Good evening Lord Elrond."
"Lostoriel." He greeted, "You know I should be the one bowing."
"And yet you never do." She smirked at the old jibe he used on herself or Legolas. They had at first been against the notion of him humbly showing them such respect as Lord Elrond was one of the oldest, wisest, kindest and most respectable Elves they knew. To them, he had always and would always stand on the same platform as their Ada, a second father. He never needed to bow.
"Care to join me?" Lostoriel gestured to the bench, "And to answer your question, no, but I've had my days fill. Can't you?"
Elrond gratefully took the spot at the opposite edge of the bench to where she sat. "It appears not."
He stretched out his legs, crossing them at his booted ankles and resting with his hands folded neatly on his lap. The starlight reflecting dully against his unadorned dark hair, he would have been the very image of calm had it not been for the deep lines that creased his forehead.
The pair of Elves sighed softly, staring at the stream, both content with the silence. Lostoriel had been itching for the past day to ask him what he had foreseen, but now that he was next to her, her courage seemed to run away with the stream.
She stole a quick glance at Lord Elrond beside her, he appeared not to notice the apprehension drawn into her furrowed eyebrows, but he knew her too well not to. He sensed a question on her mind but waited until she was ready to ask before he did anything. The elfling turned back to the stream, her fingers fumbling around each other. She turned her head once more to face him, but second guessed her choice.
"Lostoriel if you have something to ask you don't have to be afraid to do so." He told her gently, not a hint of annoyance in his caring voice, fully turning himself towards her so she would have all his attention.
The Elleth hesitated at first, berating herself for being so fearful of Lord Elrond for no good reason, "What did you see?" she cringed at the unimpressed expression on his face, his brows drawn together, and lips pressing together in a thin line. "Forgive me, I meant to ask you what you foresaw about me? I overheard Gandalf and Thorin talking last night and I need to know. I need to know whether I should be going on this quest or not and I know that you have the answers."
"Are you sure that you want your decision to rest in my vision?"
"Yes." Came her swift answer. Lostoriel looked and sounded so much like her father that Elrond did a double take of the girl. Her hard-set blue eyes staring back at him determinedly, her chin proudly sticking out.
His serene face grew dark, "Days before you arrived, I saw you on the overlook above the ruins of the City of Dale. I then saw you running from the dragon, at first I suspected this was a look into the past when you fought him the first time, but it was not."
Lostoriel absorbed this information but did not say anything sensing that he wasn't done yet. "I looked into your future and saw life, where there once was only death and decay."
"How can you be sure?" The Elleth turned to look at him, uncertainty glistening in her eyes.
"They did not send you into the Halls for a reason, your life upon this earth isn't done. The Valar spared you from waiting, you have been given a second chance to finish that which you have begun. Though this fate of which I speak of rests in the decision you make. Choose incorrectly Lostoriel Thranduiliel and all may fall into shadow." Lostoriel released a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding.
"That is a lot." She sighed, folding her arms across her chest, gazing up at the sky. "What do you think I should do?"
Elrond gave her a sympathetic smile, he hadn't wanted to lay so much upon her already weary shoulders. He hadn't intended to tell her what he saw. Fearing that she would not choose correctly, fearing more what evil they would unleash upon the world should she fail.
He shuffled towards her, putting an arm across her shoulders, "I think that you should not let my worries stop you, I fear what may come should Thorin Oakenshield fail, I fear what darkness could grow in the East. You have the power to help them, but you need not make your decision now songbird. There is time to think over it."
Lord Elrond squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, "Now, on that cheerful note I shall leave you, all shall be fine in the end tithen pen. Try to get some rest Lostoriel."
Lostoriel smiled squeezing his hand back as he rose and took one last glance at the young elf before him. Yes, he thought to himself, she will be alright.
He had just reached the bridge when, "Lord Elrond!" came Lostoriel's voice from where she stood beneath the oak tree, "Thank you." And with that the Elven princess disappeared into the night.
WACK!
The practice sword, which Lostoriel had found in a barrel next to the tall wooden practice poles, hit the side of the worn pole in front of her. It stood just above her torso, the top half of it tightly bound in worn leather that had been hacked and slashed at by thousands of Elven warriors before her. She had found her way here after her heavily loaded conversation with Lord Elrond, needing to sift through her thoughts and mull over what he had told her.
WACK! WACK!
The metal clashed with leather as the moves came back to her. My fate rests upon this Quest, but what if I choose not to go? And if I do not what then? What if the same darkness that rests upon the GreenWood ensnares the dragon?
WACK! No, I must finish what I started. If I can help, then I will. I have a duty to. This is bigger than what I want isn't it? But to face Smaug again, I literally died the last time I tried to kill him. What if Lord Elrond is wrong?
WACK! She practiced her backhand stroke, her sword flying over and around her head and slashing across the leather, decapitating her invisible attacker.
WACK! WACK! Her hair flew around her as she spun and parried their stroke.
Well his foresight has never led anyone astray. He saw life, what if I miss that? What if I return home and I live out my days wasting away my life?
WACK! WACK! WACK!
That beast has rested for long enough, he has haunted me for years now. It's time for this to end.
Losotoriel let out a small shout of anger, her sword falling to her side, panting heavily she bent over trying to catch her breath after she sent pieces of leather and wood flying from the pole. Her breath came slower realising she was being watched, they stood silhouetted against the moonlight. Golden blond hair spilling out from under their hood, sword glinting silver from the grey cloak that fluttered in the cool breeze.
She turned her attention back to her quarry, twirling her sword in her hand, bouncing lightly on her toes before slashing away at the pole. Her strokes becoming heavier and more powerful as she hacked away at it.
WACK! WACK! WACK! CLANG!
Steel collided with steel as the watcher's blade clashed heavily with hers, sending a slight jolt of pain down here right arm. Lostoriel pushed her blade toward him, twisting his sword down and his wrist outward at an awkward angle, attempting to dislodge the blade from his hand. The blonde elf expected the move and used all his strength to push her arm back upwards and spun in the opposite direction sending her blade flying to the ground with a teeth-grinding whine.
He held his blade just before her throat, pushing his hood back with his freehand. "Well matched resurrected one." He sheathed his sword with an impressed smile, the starlight bouncing cheerfully off his fair face,
Lostoriel stood stunned for a moment, hands slack at her side before recognizing the elf with his high cheek bones and oval shaped face. She leapt towards him, wrapping her hands around his chest, "Glorfindel!" she screeched delightedly, sounding exactly like an Estel.
"Lostoriel! It's about time you pitched up!" he grinned in excitement, throwing his strong arms around her short form. "I was beginning to think everyone was going crazy when I heard of your return and especially after not finding you. I was looking forward to seeing you today, but I heard you only woke up well passed noon."
She smiled sheepishly up at him, Lostoriel was eye level with the bronze mallorn leaf brooch that held his cloak in place. "Yes, well I suppose everyone knows about that. Anyway, never mind that, I have missed you!"
"I've missed you too little one." Glorfindel studied her smiling face, he recognized the haunted look in her eyes that she tried to hide, and he saw the shadow hanging over her head. But he also saw the elfling who he had come to love like a daughter, who was still incredibly short like her mother, but who unconsciously held herself like her father.
"So, what troubles you so greatly in the dead of night that you've torn this poor stump to smithereens?" he asked as he made to collect her sword from where it had fallen.
"Everything and nothing at all." Came her sighing reply.
"I understand. This," he gestured to the air around them, "is the worst part of returning after so long. Everything you remember from before you were killed is a confusing mess." Lostoriel smirked at his use of honest words, appreciating that he didn't try and soften them.
"How's your memory?" he asked handing her sword back to her and fishing for something beneath his cloak.
"It's starting to become clearer; I've started to remember how it happened."
"Judging by your tone I take that it hasn't been entirely cheerful." He handed her dagger to her. "I believe this is yours."
Lostoriel's ears grew red in the dim light, "It hasn't. I've been having nightmares about it for weeks now." She cleared her throat, "How did you find this?"
"I found it lodged into the wood behind one of the archery targets, in the middle of an arrow." His eyebrow quirked up as laughed noticing her red colouring. Lostoriel had left it there after hopelessly trying to pull it free. She had spent the better part of an hour firing arrow after arrow at the target board, with only five of the twelve hitting bullseye. Somewhere around her third missed shot she had thrown the dagger at the board and it had spilt the arrow clean down its shaft.
She hummed thoughtfully as she took the borrowed blade from his hand, nodding her thanks, "I was going to go back for it." Truthfully, she was going to coax Aerinniel to help her retrieve it before dawn to avoid any embarrassment from the other warriors seeing it.
"Right…" he sounded totally unconvinced by her answer.
"Those nightmares are the worst part, it's more like you're reliving the memory of it." Glorfindel unsheathed his sword, standing in a position of challenge. His blade hung loosely at his side, his feet shoulder length apart, he crouched ever so slightly and his blonde hair flickered in the wind. He stood in the grey twilight looking every bit like the legendary warrior of old.
"Do they ever go away?" Asked Lostoriel as they circled each other, her sword and dagger gripped to her sides, looking like talons in starlight.
"I'm afraid not." Glorfindel lunged at her, his sword sweeping towards her left, Lostoriel parried his blade with her sword. Not leaving her right side unprotected as she stepped into the movement bringing her dagger to slash at his freehand that reached for her wrist. "But it does get better, you learn to control them."
The Balrog slayer kicked out with his left leg, bring his sword in an overhand swing. Lostoriel jumped to the side avoiding his foot, parring his sword that aimed for her head with both her blades crossing them across each other as his sword pushed downward.
"Ah, good to know that they never leave. I feel privileged to know that Smaug's voice will be forever in my memory." Lostoriel took advantage of his vulnerability and proximity to knee him in the stomach. Hardly hard enough to injure Glorfindel, which she had regrettably done in the past.
Glorfindel nodded approvingly at her move as he bounced back and she hurried towards him, blade aiming for his chest, he deflected it with ease twisting the tip of her blade in an easy curve. "Speaking of which," the ellon quickly brought his blade up slashing it just above her stomach, causing Lostoriel step forward using her dagger to push his blade down and out. "Are you journeying with the Dwarves?"
Lostoriel stopped her underhand stroke, eyebrows furrowing in question.
"Mithrandir told me." Her eyebrow quirked upward, "Okay fine, I also heard it from the younger elves. But apparently you are to be joining them? Word travels quickly to me from the young elflings, it helps to be seen as being terrifying." Glorfindel smiled somewhat proudly at the notion, the younger elves had always been a little afraid of him, which he sometimes, or "frequently," as Erestor put it, used their fear to his advantage. He wasn't overly proud of it, but most of the time he meant it in fun and jest.
Lostoriel rolled her eyes at him, he had done the same thing with all of them growing up, until they realised the game he was playing and twisted it their favour. "Still terrorising the youngsters?" the she-elf took his distraction and used it thrusting her sword outwards towards his throat and stepping into the fluid movement with her dagger aiming for his chest. The move would have easily decapitated an orc and if not, at least ended his life with a dagger to the heart. "I might go with them…"
It was Glorfindel's turn to raise an eyebrow, as he flicked his sword with one small, but powerful movement, between her blades knocking her dagger out her hand and nearly chopping off her sword hand. Which led to a cascade of hacking and slashing between the two platinum haired elves, their movements becoming a whirlwind of parrying back and forth. Two shadows dancing in the darkness, the sound of steel clashing on steel so quickly that it was difficult to tell who had thrown which move. They carried on like this, whirring and twirling, their blades flashing like lightening in the moonlight as their deadly dance sent sharp clangs and hisses echoing through the Valley.
The pair stopped only when the pale early morning light began to seep into the dark canvas of the night. The stars slowly disappearing beneath the candy-floss pink sunlight. Glorfindel caught a flash of dark hair and navy-blue robes out the corner of his eye as he spun kicking out at Lostoriel who caught his grass covered boot with her hand and pushed him backwards. Sending him stumbling onto his back and into the morning dew. She stalked over to him her blades whirring in her hands she was about to strike when a slightly annoyed, smooth voice cut through the air.
"Good grief! Do not tell me you two have been at this all night!?" came Erestor's cry of exasperation, Glorfindel rolled his eyes sharing an amused smile with Lostoriel as they heard him mutter something about "utter nuisance and bumbling warriors -"
He had felt as if he were experiencing an overly vivid moment of deja-vu as he watched the two elves spar like they would when Lostoriel was still in warrior training. At one point or another each of Thranduil's and Elrond's children had come to learn and train under Glorfindel's skilful eyes. It was almost a rite of passage amongst the small cluster of close friends, though for their parent's and Erestor it was more of a headache, or a welcomed one at least. Knowing that their children had learnt how to protect and defend themselves and others from perhaps the most feared warrior on Middle Earth. He expected that once Estel was old enough that Glorfindel and the twins would take him under their wings.
"Good morning to you too Erestor!" called Glorfindel as he sprawled himself onto the grass, panting tiredly from their long hours of sparring.
She held a hand out to help him up, "Well matched Balrog-slayer. I bet that you wish I still wasn't here to send you sprawling." She smirked.
Glorfindel clutched her hand, letting her hurl him to his feet, "Do I now? I remember my life being rather peaceful before you came along." He gave her a quick smile, letting her know he was joking. "Well dragon-slayer, do not get too excited your skill returns to you, but there is must we have to work on."
Lostoriel gave him a curious look, his knowing eyes telling her that he already knew of her decision, her voice came softly, but full of steely determination. "My answer is yes. I'll be journeying with them, I started something and I fully intend to finish it."
Glorfindel nodded approvingly at her, he may not have had a fondness of Dwarves, or even a mere desire that they reclaimed Erebor, but he understood her plight. He had a deep, nauseating feeling within himself, that if they did not slay the dragon then the darkness which had begun to brew would only grow stronger. The two sheathed their weapons and began to slowly make their way towards Erestor who stood with his hands on his hips in the brightening morning light.
"Well then, we'd better get to work."
Hii there! I'm not even a little sorry for what I've done.
I hope you all enjoyed this one! I had a blast writing it, especially the Glorfindel and Bilbo scene!
So now we all know what happened to Lostoriel, the whole second life thing is totally headcannon...
Ro781727: Yeah the last chapter had a lot of revelations, but I'm glad to enjoyed it so much! Thanks for the info on Turgon ( my ME history is a bit rusty.)
Lostoriel is different from her father and brother, but I don't think she'd join in on a burping contest. She was brought up too well for that.
Also! Yeh Estel is little in this story... I still have mixed feelings about PJ writing him into the movies as an adult, but I find it really cool because it was like a piece of fanfiction written by Fran Welsh.
Anyway enough of me geeking out. If you enjoyed this chapter feel free to leave a comment! I'd love to hear what you all think of this story so far!