- Chapter 7 -

Dawn greeted her with a light drizzle. She'd fallen asleep on the couch, but this time found herself covered with a blanket and not relocated to her bedroom. The fire was still crackling steadily, and she felt so comfortable that she didn't want to move. However, she promised Estel she would see him off, so she pulled open her wardrobe doors and peered inside.

Why the boy would want her there to see him go off on an overnight adventure was odd but how could she say no when he asked so politely? Perhaps he was only doing it to be nice, and she was positive that was the reason, but oddly enough she had taken an immediate liking to the kid.

The dresses were fancy, at least according to her, but she didn't have any other options, so she pulled out a deep red one with dark blue sleeves. In fact, all of her dresses seemed to be much the same style with dark colored fabric, wide, gaping bell sleeves, scooped necklines, a train, and delicately beaded trim. She slipped on the comfortable slippers she'd worn yesterday then went to check herself in the mirror.

The only thing she looked at in her reflection was her hair. Her eyes completely ignored everything else as if it simply weren't there. She knew her reflection would be foreign to her anyway and she didn't want to deal with that at the moment. If her eyes were a little bloodshot, or if there were bags under her eyes she didn't notice. Running the cold water, she washed her face, hoping that the water would at least wash away proof of last night's cry fest which she was sure would be evident.

Running a brush through her hair, she then pulled it over her shoulder and put it in a simple plait, tying it off halfway down with her hairband. It wasn't nearly as neat as Élane's job yesterday, but she didn't care. She'd never been one to fret over her looks, much less do anything with her hair except leave it wild.

Her braid draped loosely past her chest, the ends going in all different directions, the white color of it still startling to her against the deep tones of her clothes.

"As good as it's going to get," she muttered when there was a knock on the door.

She reached for the handle just as it swung open, and she came face to face with Élane. The elf looked completely startled to see her standing there, all dressed and ready by herself.

"Good morning my Lady," Élane said with a bow of her head. "I was not expecting you to be up just yet. I only came to check on the fires."

"I couldn't sleep anymore," Shyloh admitted. "And actually, I hope I'm not too late. I promised Estel I'd say goodbye before he left this morning."

"I see. Well, I do not believe the Lords have left yet. I can show you the way if you do not need anything here?"

Shyloh saw the elf's eyes flick to the slightly sloppy braid that hung over her shoulder briefly so before the elf could ask to do her hair, Shyloh stepped out into the hall and closed the door behind her.

"I'd really appreciate it if you could show me the way," she said, mustering up the best smile that she could, even though her heart wasn't in it.

Élane complied to her wishes and Shyloh felt a little guilty about it. She wasn't used to being waited on at all so the entire experience was a little off putting to her.

The drizzle stopped before they walked out from under the covered roofs of Elrond's house, making everything sparkle and shimmer as the sun tried to peak out from behind the gray clouds. The fresh smell of earth filled Shyloh's lungs as she took a deep breath, almost tasting the sweetness of it on her tongue.

They followed a path for a short way before coming to a small clearing. Gathered there, Shyloh recognized many of the faces as the Lords Glorfindel, Elrohir, Elladan, and then Estel and his mother. She suddenly wondered if this hadn't been a mistake, but before she could change her mind Estel caught her eye and his face brightened. He jogged over to her, and everyone's heads followed him, their eyes landing on Shyloh. She felt her mouth go a little dry but kept her gaze fixed on Estel, who slowed to a stop in front of her.

"You came!"

"I said I would, didn't I?" she couldn't help but smile back at his obvious excitement. "Are you all set and ready then?"

"Just about. We were waiting for you."

Completely taken by surprise, she felt her face redden with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I should have asked when you would be leaving."

"That is alright, Mother has been fretting. We are going for a few days you see," his voice lowered, and the smile faltered. "She worries. She thinks I am too young to go."

"Ah, I see. Well, I think that just shows how much she cares about you." She lowered her voice too and Estel nodded his agreement.

"I know she does."

Giving him a sympathetic smile, he surprised her again by taking her hand and leading her over to the others. She could feel all eyes on her as they approached but she did her best not to meet any of their gazes.

Glorfindel studied her carefully, so did the twins. She was still pale and fragile looking even though Elrond had tended her wounds and seen to her health needs personally. The bags under her eyes remained as dark as they had been on their trip to Rivendell. If anything, she looked even worse here than she had before. Her face held a haunted glaze that told them she had a long and hard road ahead of her, and her skin seemed to cling to her bones, making her look ill. After Elrond had filled the three of them in on who she was, things began falling into place and they understood her situation a little better. Still, the small elf that stood with them now was as uncomfortable in her own skin as the warriors would have been going into battle without their armor. Her strikingly white hair made her glow though, despite the fact that she looked the way she did, and they felt pity for her. Truly the young elleth, even in her grief, was beautiful beyond compare; except perhaps for Elrond's daughter Arwen, the evenstar of their people.

Gilraen gave Shyloh a small smile when she came to stand next to her and Estel let her hand go.

"Mae g'ovannen, Lady Shyloh," said Lord Glorfindel with a bow of his head. Elrohir and Elladan gave her a bow of their heads but said nothing and she had a hard time reading the expressions on their faces, so she just gave a bow of her head to them like they had her and called it good enough. It was strange to think they were her cousins.

"Morning," she said, in a small voice. "I'm sorry if I kept you waiting. I wasn't sure what time you were leaving. I should have asked."

"Not to worry," Glorfindel said, "We have not been waiting long."

"Be good," Gilraen said, giving her son a look. Estel heeded his mother's words even though his face still looked soft from smiling. "And be sure to do exactly as you are told."

"I will, Mother." Estel's promise was engulfed in a quick and tight hug by his mother.

"Off you go then." Gilraen straightened and stepped back, finally releasing her son despite the reservations in her eyes.

Estel gave Shyloh a quick smile before Elladan and Elrohir led the way down the path. The three of them watched until they were out of sight and Gilraen's shoulders sagged a little.

"If you will excuse me, I must tend to a few things," Gilraen said, and she gave them a quick bow before lifting her skirts and heading back to the house alone. Shyloh sadly watched her go, mostly because she was a bit nervous about being left with Glorfindel alone.

"I am pleased to see you out and about," he said as the two of them turned back towards the house together. His eyes met Shyloh's with sincerity, and she gave him a small smile, but it didn't meet her eyes.

"I haven't thanked you yet, for all you and Elrohir and Elladan did for me," she said, twisting her fingers together nervously. "So, thank you, I really appreciate it. Especially for not leaving me behind."

Glorfindel gave a smile and bowed his head. "You are most welcomed. Are you feeling better?" He knew the answer to that question already, for it was written all over her face.

"Yes, Lord Elrond has been giving me...ethelas...tea." She did her best to pronounce the word properly.

"Athelas," Glorfindel corrected.

"Yes, athelas," she repeated. "It's helped a lot."

"Lord Elrond is one of the most skilled healers I have ever met. I am afraid I myself am not as skilled as he, so my apologies that we could not aid your injuries better on the road. Even his own sons aren't as skilled, even though Lord Elrond was the one that taught them."

She smiled at that. "Well, I wouldn't say I could do any better myself. Except, I think healing here is different than where I come from."

"Are you skilled in healing?" Glorfindel looked interested by this, and she shrugged.

"I was going to school to be a nurse," she hesitated at his confused look then went on. "I guess the proper word here would be healer. I only had another two years to go before I graduated. I am proud to say I was at the top of my class."

"Interesting," he said thoughtfully. "And are you still interested in learning healing?"

She shrugged again. "I'm not sure I'd be any good at it here."

"How would you know that, if you do not try?"

"Different world, different rules?"

"Not necessarily, although I know almost nothing about your homeland, there are many techniques used in the healing process and all of them revolve around making the injured or sick better, correct?"

"Right," she said slowly.

"So that leads me back to my original question: are you still interested in learning healing?"

"Yes." She didn't even hesitate, and a satisfied look crossed his face.

"Perhaps that is something to consider looking into more, once you are better settled in."

"Okay..."

"Now I must leave you for I have work to do. Good day my Lady," he said with a bow and then he left her standing in the middle of a garden that she didn't even realize they'd entered.

Early spring blossoms adorned the walkways, and the trees were blooming beautiful spring colors. Rose bushes were budding, and birds of all different colors tweeted up in the branches above her. She decided to wander the paths a little since she was out here. The morning sun was still making everything look golden, so she took a few deep breaths and sank down onto one of the stone benches she came across, shivering at the damp, cool air. She should have worn a coat. The valley dipped down before her into a spectacular setting. Tall, mountain like hills jutted upwards out of the earth, enclosing them in on the backside. The waterfalls fell across the face of jagged rocks into depths beyond her sight in the garden, the mist from the falls making rainbows in the light.

"Good morning," said a voice behind her. Startled, she whipped around to see Elrond walking up towards her. His brown and silver robes trailed behind him as he walked. This morning, the silver circlet was upon his brow.

She stood to greet him, still unsure of the customs of greeting a lord but he motioned for her to sit back down, and he took a seat next to her.

"Enjoying the garden, are we?" he asked, his eyes wandering over the hills she'd just been looking at.

"It's so beautiful here," she said, still in awe. "Plus, Glorfindel left me here and I wasn't sure how to get back. The bench called my name, so I gave up and sat down."

He smiled at her. "It is easy to give in to the scenery I suppose, if you have not looked upon it as much as I have."

"Does it ever get old? Looking at the same thing, day after day?" she asked, almost surprising herself with such an odd question. Part of her asked it because she remembered her immortality, and part of it made her worry she'd grow tired of it.

"No," he said easily. "Even after being here so long, I still find myself without words sometimes."

She nodded slowly, feeling a little more at ease when another thought came to her.

"Lord Glorfindel thinks I should look into healing, since I was studying it before I came here," she said as she watched a chipmunk scamper across the path a way down, his little cheeks filled with his scavenges.

"An interesting thought," he said. "I myself would like you to take lessons from me. I think it is fairly safe to say you will be staying here permanently, and I think it would be a good idea for you to learn about our languages and customs."

She nodded reluctantly in agreement. "That might be helpful."

Sindar sucked.

So did Quenya.

Shyloh flipped through the pages she was supposed to be reading with a completely baffled expression on her face. The words on the pages blurred before her eyes and she slammed the book shut. A month into learning elvish and she felt like she still didn't know a single word of either language.

She pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers and squeezed her eyes closed, letting go a sigh. And here she thought her nursing books were hard to remember...

Sitting back in her chair, she looked over the page she'd been writing on and frowned. The letters of both Sindarin and Quenya were listed in alphabetical order on top of the page, and the poem Elrond expected her to translate into Sindarin was only partially complete.

Groaning, she'd already found a mistake. Grabbing her quill, she crossed out the word and rewrote it properly. She always thought of herself as a good student, juggling a part time job, classes and life all at once but now she was questioning herself and as her frustration grew, the more irritated she became.

Finally, she pushed the papers away from her, unable to concentrate anymore. The sky was beginning to darken outside the windows of the library she sat in, and a gentle breeze drifted through the open door, sending a shiver up her arms and playing with stray strands of her white hair. The days were cooler even though spring took hold of the earth around her.

Gathering up her papers and books, she stacked them neatly and cradled them in her arms as she left the comforts of the library for the open halls of Elrond's house, stepping lightly over the polished stone floor. She let her mind wander as she made her way back to her room, wondering what the weather was like back home and feeling a bit disheartened. It had been a month since her last dream with her mom and it was starting to take its toll on her. She realized that she'd been clinging to the fact she could still see and talk to her mom during these dreams, still hold her hand and hear her soft laugh. It was Elrond who pointed out that she more than likely didn't have any control over when the dreams happened, and that she just had to be patient.

She didn't want to be patient. She wanted to see her mother again.

Letting a sigh slip through her lips, she paused at the open terrace and took a deep breath. She was trying, she really was, but life here was so different. She was treated like royalty – which of course she was considering she was the daughter of a prince and granddaughter of a king – but it annoyed her more than it probably should have.

Princess Shyloh.

The title felt like a lead weight, and she scrunched her nose up as the words slipped into her thoughts. The first time her uncle spoke them she thought he was only joking. Her father, however, had been a prince, so that made her – technically - royalty of a sort, even though the kingdom of Númenor no longer existed, the descendants of the bloodline still flowed among the Dúnedain.

She shifted her books in her arms, a frown creasing her forehead, her attention returning to the current problem. The twins had become a little friendlier to her but not by much. They still regarded her as strange and spoke little to her, but they struck up conversations with her and had even helped her once when she was just starting her language studies.

"It is all in the pronunciation," Elrohir had said as he wrote the phrase she'd been working on correctly.

"This is so confusing," she had muttered and Elrohir smirked.

"If it was easy anyone could do it," Elladan commented as he settled into a chair next to her.

"You two grew up speaking these languages," she argued, shooting them a frustrated look. "It's like...like..."

"Learning a foreign language?" Elrohir offered and she cracked a smile.

"Yeah," she said, her head lolling to the side. "Like learning a foreign language."

The brothers laughed and then she decided to give them a taste of their own medicine.

"¿Cómo estás?" she asked, and their smiles faded. "Hermoso dìa afuera, ¿no?"

She waited for them to say something, but they just stared at her blankly.

"Not so fun, is it?" she asked, and the brothers exchanged looks.

"Alright, we see your point. Now what did you say?"

"And what language was that?" Elladan asked but Shyloh shrugged.

"See, that's the funny thing about the present situation. Unlike you, I can research what you say, whereas you cannot research what I say."

"A compromise then?" Elrohir suggested.

"Help me and I'll tell you what I said." She all but begged them. Elrond's lesson had been cut short when an unexpected visitor showed up and his attention was turned elsewhere. He'd given her books to start pouring over and asked her to begin translating the words he'd written down for her in both Sindar and Quenya.

For the next hour the twins had helped her translate the phrases and practice speaking to them correctly and she felt at the time that she was making progress. Now, she stared over the hidden valley of Imladris feeling like she had taken two steps forward and four steps back. The poems would have to wait until morning to be completed.

Walking back to her rooms, Estel fell into step beside her. He'd practically become her shadow and she welcomed his company despite his mother's worries that he was pestering her. Mostly they walked quietly, enjoying the gardens or he'd read to her, and she enjoyed listening to his stories and hearing him talk excitedly about his lessons.

"Good evening," she said to him, and he smiled up at her. "What sort of wild adventure are you off on tonight?"

"No adventure," he said and then a frown crossed his face. "Why do you always eat alone?"

The question surprised her, and she mirrored his expression by frowning.

"Is it because you don't like us?" he asked, his voice sounding small.

She stopped walking and looked down at him. "Of course, I like you, what would make you think such a thing?"

"Because you never come to the dining halls to eat with us." He looked a little sad as he said this, and she felt guilty.

"People stare a lot when I go there," she admitted almost shamefully. She'd been in Middle-earth for a while now and as rumors about her identity spread, it seemed people sought her out wherever she was to catch a glimpse of her. "I don't exactly enjoy being stared at."

Elrond had announced her of course, but her real story had been kept secret so of course that made her look suspicious. It was natural for people to be curious, but she wished her uncle would tell them to leave her alone.

Estel twisted his face as if he were thinking hard about something. "You're still new," he mused, and she nodded her agreement. "But it only makes people want to stare more if you always hide from them."

Glancing at him, she saw his mouth tighten as if he were trying to suppress a mischievous grin. He was trying to trick her into being more 'public' even if it made her uncomfortable. She raised her eyebrows at him, and he curled his lips inside his mouth and bit down on them, trying desperately not to smile. It didn't work, and his lopsided grin spilled over his face, and she shook her head.

"You know, for a kid you are pretty clever."

His smile grew and he clasped his hands behind his back as they walked like she had seen Lord Elrond do on several occasions.

Monkey see, monkey do.

"Estel, would you like to come to dinner with me in the halls?" she asked, having a feeling she already knew the answer.

His face sobered and he looked up at her with his big brown eyes.

"I would be honored to."

She grinned and rolled her eyes, then shifted her books in her arms. "Let me drop these off in my room and I will be right back."

A triumphant look on his face, she left him waiting for her in the hall. She set the books down on the desk in her room. Her other dress had a few ink stains on the sleeves, so she tossed it aside and pulled on a fresh gown from her closet. It was a deep blue with white sleeves and beaded silver trim.

She noted that Élane must have been in there earlier because there were at least three new gowns hanging up that hadn't been there that morning. She touched the lightweight, buttery soft lace fabric of the new white gown that caught her eye. This was the first all-white gown that she'd been given. It was stunning but surely too fancy for supper, so she let it fall back inside the closet and closed the door, silently wondering why most of her gowns revolved around different shades of dark blues, silvers, and white.

In the bathroom, she pulled the tie out of her hair and shook out the braid she had pulled it back in earlier. Running her fingers through the locks, she checked herself in the mirror once more before heading back out into the hall where Estel was waiting. He grinned at her, and they fell into step together, heading towards the dining halls. She fidgeted with her hands as they walked, already feeling a little nervous. Although supper had started a while ago, there were still many elves gathered; their chatter echoing lightly in the open hall.

Soft flute and harp music played in the background. As she entered the hall, many heads turned to look simultaneously at her and she felt her cheeks redden a little, so she avoided looking at anyone as her and Estel crossed the room to the head table. She met the gazes of Elrohir and Elladan who both looked surprised to see her there. Lord Elrond was nowhere in sight, and she figured he must still be in his council meeting from earlier, because Glorfindel and Lindir were absent as well.

"Look who I found!" Estel said, as he sat across from the twins. The big chair was almost too big for him even though he was tall for his age. A server came over just then and pulled out Shyloh's chair for her and she felt herself blush at his gesture.

She gave him a small smile and took the seat he offered, tucking her skirt around her feet.

"Come to join us for a change?" Elrohir asked, setting his glass of red wine down on the table in front of him.

"He's good at playing the guilt trip," she said, tilting her head towards Estel who avoided her gaze.

The twins raised their eyebrows at Estel, but the boy was too busy filling his plate to notice. Either that, or he was avoiding the twins' looks purposely.

"She does not like that people stare," Estel said, his eyes still fixed on his plate, and she felt her face redden again as the brothers looked at her.

Elrohir glanced around the hall and then shrugged. "Do not worry, only half of them are looking at you."

"The other half are talking about you," Elladan said with a grin.

She glared at them with narrowed eyes. "Thank you, all three of you," she said, her voice flat. Brushing a lock of hair out of her face, she tucked it behind her ear and took a roll from the basket in front of her.

"I think it's the hair," muttered Elrohir and his brother's eyes locked on her head before he nodded in agreement.

"Yes, it stands out like a sore thumb."

She sucked in a breath but refused to look at them as they smiled to themselves.

"It's like freshly fallen snow," said Estel as he looked at her hair; wild and curly and completely unlike anyone else's hair in the room, and he took a lock of it in his fingers, holding it up to the fading sunlight. When he caught her looking, he blushed furiously and dropped the lock, quickly turning back to his plate.

The twins snickered at the boy's embarrassment but no one else said anything because even the twins couldn't deny that her hair was unique and stunning. It was as if she was always crowned in a white, heavenly glow and because of that, people had quietly started calling her the White Princess. If the girl knew that most of the heads turning to watch her were ellyn, the brothers were sure she would hide even more so they didn't say anything to her about it. Let her be blind to the stunned ellyn, for she had much more to worry over than them.

Elrohir and Elladan were slowly growing fond of their cousin, even if they still didn't know each other that well. Their father seemed to hog her to himself for the most part, giving her lessons centered around elvish languages and culture, doing his best to help her get acclimated to her new life. They could tell she was stressed, confused, and severely homesick, and they mutually noted that her appetite was still minimal at best despite Elrond's attempts at fuller and more rounded meals.

Gandalf had occupied her time too, for the few short days he'd been in Rivendell by walking with her in the gardens. They either walked in silence, sharing in the peacefulness of nature, chatted about her homeland, or he would tell her stories about his travels. He'd departed quietly as usual a few days later and they wondered briefly when they'd see the wizard again.

It was hard not to like her.

She dived right into her studies almost greedily, as if there was nothing more she desired than having a steady distraction from reality. She poured over her books but kept mostly to herself. She asked only once about her horse and the twins were disappointed to tell her there was no sight of him. The look that crossed her face was crushing and she hadn't brought it up again.

Now, Elrohir looked across the table at his cousin with a frown. She was thinner than she had been when they'd found her in the woods, and he wondered how that could be possible since there was hardly anything to her to begin with. Her skin was taught over her face, and she had soft bruises under her eyes and a constantly tired look about her, as if sleep evaded her each night. He would have to say something to his father. The brothers knew her story, her real one, about where she came from and how she came to be there. It was strange indeed, and it almost seemed impossible but here she was and there was no lie in their father's eye when he told his sons about her. Catching his brother's glance, they turned back to their own dinners, unable to avoid seeing the heads of ellyn around the room gazing at their cousin as the four of them sat in mutual silence.