Scylla's revenge: I get it, the 10th walker thing has been done to death. It can just be so much fun to write. Soon we'll get to the parts where Cass is back with family and things might be a bit… different than we're used to. Also, I'm honored that you like the parts with the OCs. Thanks for hanging in with me!
AN: Finally I get this out. I wanted to avoid the bad writing of last time we veered into an elvish sanctuary but I got frustrated and am throwing this into the void so I can move on. Sorry ahead of time.
Also, my husband and I are in the process of buying a house! Yay! The downside is that chapters may be sparser than usual while we move and such. I'll do my best but no guarantees.
Chapter 34: The Lady and Lord
Some unknown being gave me their favor, as there were very few stairs to climb. On the way I sniffed myself and grimaced. "There's no chance I can get a bath first, is there?" I asked as I felt my oil-smooth braids.
"Afterward," Haldir replied.
I felt unspeakably gross, but there's no ignoring a summons like this. "Can I ask what this is about?" I asked, testing my luck as we descended some shallow stairs.
A long minute passed. "We are here," Haldir said instead, sweeping his arm out in invitation for me to enter a small clearing.
A brook merrily rushed down a fountain and downward through the clearing, past where two chairs and a stool were set. There a man and woman sat, both blonde and wearing white or grey like the other elves, but the feeling I got from them was different. I was reminded of Lord Elrond, except cold and distant like the North Star.
The urge to bow took me so I saluted. "Cassandra van der Zee, reporting," I told them.
The Lady smiled slightly; the Lord stood. "I am Celeborn, Lord of Lothlorien," he introduced himself and with a look at the Lady which seemed almost tender, he continued, "My wife, Lady Galadriel."
Closer up, I could see the beautiful, intricate gold and silver embroidery that decorated their garments. Their crowns were similarly beautiful art nouveau circlets of some silvery metal and the ring on Lady Galadriel's hand was obviously well made, all expensive beyond belief.
I was reminded of Eowyn in the craziest way. Eowyn as an elvish Lady older than the goddamned sun. (Man, I missed her almost as much as Andy and Mackey.)
Amusement that wasn't mine passed through my mind.
Get out of there, I told it; sure enough, it vanished.
"Come, let me see to your hurts," Lord Celeborn told me and gestured me closer.
Did all the elvish Lords double as doctors? I wondered as I obeyed and awkwardly came within arm's reach. Automatically I jumped a bit when he raised his hands, but thankfully he didn't comment as I chuckled, mortified. To make my scalp easier to see I ducked my head. Hiding my pink face was just a bonus.
"You are healing fairly quickly," Lord Celeborn reported, to my relief, "No further treatment is needed for that. You know what to do for it to continue to heal." Bless him for not being overbearing.
"Right, thanks." I straightened up and took a step back out of his space.
Still seated, Lady Galadriel spoke. "Your other pains are things that must simply be waited out," she said in a surprisingly low voice, "There are remedies for the pain itself yet not its source."
Ah damn. At least there were palliatives? "Mind if I get one of those remedies?" I requested hopefully.
"It will be brought to your camp," Lady Galadriel assured me then her tone went grave as she said, "There are other matters to be discussed." She gestured to the stool sitting in front of the chairs.
Was this meant to make me feel like I was five again? Probably a status thing, I guessed and got comfortable on the hard wood. "Like what?" I questioned awkwardly. I wasn't that important compared to Strider or Frodo or even bloody Legolas; why did I get the special talk?
"You have seen the Eye," Lord Celeborn stated.
There was no mistaking what he meant. In Rohan I had that weird nightmare and on the way to Rivendell it had burnt me. "I take it that's a bad thing," I said.
"If you have seen it, then it has seen you," Lord Celeborn replied.
Well damn. "Does that make me a danger to the fellowship?" I immediately asked. If Sauron could, I dunno, track me or something, I'd have to leave.
"Not now," Lord Celeborn cautioned, "Yet as you come closer to Mordor, the connection may open to him. It is not often that a mere human has the gifts that your family possesses; nothing can be said for certain."
I owed several members of my family apologies, I acknowledged. And I'd actually have to take note of my stupid dreams from now on.
"You have the blessing of Mandos and that may confer some protection in a realm so full of death and despair," Lady Galadriel said, "Every aid you have will be needed for the journey ahead. Do not test it."
As she spoke, a question flashed through my head: What would you give to have the Quest succeed? Images flashed through my mind- Tharbad burning, Boromir lying under trees with his temple bloodied, my own body laid out on the leafy ground with my throat crushed. What would you give?
My ears rang and I winced, glad that Lady Galadriel's voice was drowned out by it. This was the whole world on the line, I told her. What choice did I have but to give everything required? Everything?
"The Quest stands upon the edge of a knife," Lady Galadriel stated, thankfully out loud, "One misstep and it will fail. Yet hope remains while the company is true."
The Power of Heart wasn't such bullshit after all, apparently. And we had plenty of that. "If anybody can do this, it's us," I said bluntly, partially to reassure myself of it.
She smiled. There was a feeling like she meant, "That's the spirit," except more elegantly.
"You tire and are still in pain. Rest, recover," Lord Celeborn told me, "Haldir will take you to the bathhouse on his way back to the borders."
Again I got the urge to bow and substituted a salute. "Thank you for seeing me sir, ma'am," I told them, surprising myself when I meant it as I said, "It's been an honor."
Amused, the Lord and Lady gave me a nod of acknowledgement.
Only then did I feel it was right to turn my back on them, finding Haldir on the stairs. "Follow me," he ordered and began ascending.
I hurried after him eagerly. A bath sounded wonderful, but then I realized that I didn't have any clean clothes. Oh well. Better to be clean and wearing dirty clothes than to be plain old dirty.
A series of white screens were put up between several trees ahead, steam rising from behind them. In that direction I heard two male voices talking and a woman humming. My eyebrows flew up.
"Women enter on the right," Haldir pointed out, "Clothes have been set aside for you with a cloak."
"Thanks. Take care, out there," I told him, so grateful to be on the edge of feeling civilized again.
There was a brief flash of a smile as he turned around. "Thank you. Farewell, Lady Cassandra," he replied and was gone in a few long strides.
"Bye!" I called back.
As soon as he was out of sight I very nearly ran into the right-hand hall. I then proceeded to have the bath that I wanted and deserved after the hell I've been through so far. It was a natural hot spring so there was no need to worry about the water ever running cold; I took advantage and stayed in for over an hour, coming out only when I was getting hungry. I felt like a human being again.
The January chill made me hurry into the dress before I could properly admire it. Even on me it looked gorgeous though, dark grey with copper threading in simple wandering patterns around the v-neck and split skirt. I was reminded of Cressie's hair for a brief moment of longing.
Good lord, if I missed even my least favorite sister, what was happening to me?
Thoroughly tired already, I marched in the direction I was pretty sure the Fellowship was in. If that was where my instinct went, undoubtedly I would find Frodo and with him, the rest of the group.
Legolas and Strider were gone but the remainder of the Fellowship was right where I left them, only with a pain remedy just as nasty as any in Rivendell. As soon as the glassful of green liquid was down my throat, I made a face and ate a whole apple just to get the taste out. "Blegh," I said to myself and set the vial aside.
"Did you see them?" Pippin asked while I chewed, "The Lady and Lord?"
I nodded with a grimace. "I really don't like people being in my head uninvited," I replied as I rummaged on the breakfast tray for some leftover chicken, "But they're something else, I must say." Whether I meant that to be a compliment or not, even I wasn't sure.
Boromir dropped an arm over my shoulders and I leaned back against him. "Still armed?" I asked when the hilt of a dagger poked me in the side. I turned it to the side so I could better stretch out against him.
The dagger was again shifted. "Until we are in a place that I trust, yes," he murmured.
"Ah." Honestly, I couldn't blame him. After the incident with that idiot in Rivendell, I was ready to jump into action the second an elf made the wrong move.
For a long while we all sat around and chatted. To have a conversation where I didn't have to censor my opinions on our hosts too much was refreshing- I very willingly told Merry that I found the Lady most unsettling just on concept but was extremely grateful for their hospitality. Apparently there had been a day-and-night-long lament for Gandalf while I was asleep, which I was extremely sorry to have missed; no matter what I thought of elves in themselves, their voices were terrific.
While we talked and then I threw bits of leftover apple core at Merry and Pippin, I leaned comfortably against Boromir. He was warm and solid against my back, always there with a chuckle or comment for us immature beings as we cleaned up after ourselves.
"What did the Lady say to you?" Pippin asked as we deposited the bare bones of our meal on the tray, "She showed me some awful things- the Green Dragon torn up and a horrible greasy mill- but then she showed me the Shire- I think it's this spring, she showed me." He sighed contentedly before he added sagely, "The choice, I suppose."
I nodded, sucking my fingers clean of the delicious date juices. "Same," I said vaguely, "One possible future or another."
Unable to help myself, I looked up at Boromir while I spoke. The tortured look in his eyes made me hurt for him as we broke gazes.
Of course I gathered myself up with a bad joke and a few oblivious questions, but that look burned me. It was behind my eyelids when I closed them to give a big laugh that I wasn't sure I felt. The last time I saw a look like that, Electra had just come back from her first assassination.
Meanwhile when Legolas came back and found out that I had done absolutely nothing with my hair to see the Lady and Lord, he had a conniption. Some kind of spark died in his eyes as he realized that I had no idea what the fuss was that he was making. "It's like going naked!" he eventually compared, exasperated.
I snorted out a laugh. The look on his perfect face was just… red, stammering, and full of second hand embarrassment. "What was I supposed to do?" I asked, laughing, "I'm human, remember?"
The look of outrage turned to one of determination. "What's the saying? When in Rohan, do as the Rohirrim do?" Legolas compared.
Alright, I could respect that. "Fine. You show me how my hair should be done and I'll try to learn how," I agreed with a single shouldered shrug.
I honestly didn't expect to be bothered into it right then. I groaned a little and complained without heat as I flopped over in a position for my hair to be reached. "Is it a women's thing? I notice none of the rest of you have super fancy braids." Not even the Lord and Lady's had been fancy, but that was beyond the point.
"Yes, it mostly is," Legolas confirmed as he pulled my hair tightly against my scalp above my ear.
I hissed and muffled the urge to jerk my head away.
While Legolas showed me the various suitable braids and other styles I could wear, I playfully complained. My scalp got a bit tender as he braided then made me do it, but I wasn't about to disrespect his culture while I was on their turf.
The whole time I made funny expressions at Boromir, Frodo, or Pippin, the three who seemed to be having it the hardest right now. It seemed to beat back the gloom temporarily and that was all I could hope for.
"You do realize that I'll never remember that from just one demonstration, right?" I asked Legolas after he finally left my poor abused hair alone.
He smiled impishly. "You know how long we'll be here," he replied.
Oh boy, a whole month of my poor scalp being abused. I really didn't look forward to it. But I kind of did; Legolas seemed like a cool guy and we hadn't really talked on the way here.
The whole time the hobbits laughed and asked about Legolas's genealogy, a bit shocked at just how short it was. That's the sort of thing that happens when you're over two thousand years old, I supposed, before the inquisition got turned on me.
"Hm, let's see…" I pondered out loud while Legolas subjected my hair to a particularly brutal form of braid, "Great-gran is from the Rohirrim and everybody else is from so far east, we never heard of Sauron until we reached Gondor." I sighed happily at the distant memory. How innocent I was then.
Gimli's attention was attracted. "Beyond the Iron Hills?" he questioned, surprised.
"Past Harad?" Legolas murmured, disturbed.
"Mhm," I confirmed to both, "Past Mordor is a country full of plains in the north and swamps in the south, for weeks on end until you hit an ocean almost as big as the western sea. Then you pass that and travel the width of Middle Earth again and you get to where the rest of my family came from." No one believed me, but at least they didn't say out loud that I was crazy. Merry wondered how one could even travel that long, but more interest was taken since our arrival in Tharbad: which of the twins was which and how was I related to the man with the dark skin? What did I mean that we were all probably illegitimate? What did Stevie being a bastard mean for the throne?
Those were questions I'd probably need to ask Aunt Libby, I thought as I formulated a hasty, somewhat panicked answer to the questions. On the way to Rivendell they had been too intimidated to ask, then Rivendell provided it's own distractions, and the way here was too miserable for common chatter- I'd managed to avoid these important questions so far.
Trust hobbits' love of genealogy to bite me in the ass. Most questions amounted to, "We're new, so I don't know but I think (blank.)" I mean, what would happen if Stevie and Aunt Libby died while Rangi was still a little one?
For some reason Boromir seemed intensely interested in this discussion. At one point he asked if I had any kind of royal or noble blood outside of Tharbad and I really tried not to think of it as an insult. "A bit," I replied coolly, "My mum's grandpa was a duke before he emigrated." He had seen the way the wind was blowing and gone to America to avoid deprivation, possibly even starvation, from taking his family. It was a winning bet.
Of course, there are no more noble or royal titles in Germany, and the Holy Roman Empire is a twinkle in history's eye. "None of it means anything," I made sure to tell them before untrue speculation set in.
At that point, Gimli leaned over and patted my shoulder. "You've lost the plot, lassie," he advised, "Blood means everything in Middle Earth."
I grimaced. "Sure," I said, not wanting to face the idea of that. I already knew I was a bit more like my mum than I thought; I didn't like that becoming a damn narrative.
It seemed to bother Boromir too. Or something did; that night he was tense and jumped when I would wiggle my back against him. "What's wrong?" I murmured, already half asleep.
"Nothing," he barely whispered. He was lying.
Eh, he was just uncomfortable in an unfamiliar place, I told myself. Elves are fucking weird, my back was up too. There was no reason for me to pry so I trusted him to tell me if there was anything really wrong, and fell asleep.
In the next few days there were elves around constantly, even more than the rest of the company. No matter where I went, there were elves and frankly they stared at me then snickered. I was trying not to be insulted when I was working so hard to learn these stupid hairstyles.
So of course I asked Legolas. "Uh, why are people laughing every time they see me?" I questioned during our latest hair lesson.
"Laughing?" he parroted as he guided my fingers through my hair.
"They look at me and they sort of snicker to themselves. Or each other," I said darkly.
"Ah." At the end of that braid he replied, "Rumor made it here ahead of us about your run-in with the guard. They're calling him a fool." He then pinched out a part of hair for me to repeat the french braid on as he added, "Everyone in Lothlorien knows an orc when they see one, and everyone agrees that you are not an orc."
Better late than never, I thought. "Promise it's not me they're laughing at?" I asked with a bit of a nervous smile that I was glad he couldn't see.
"I am completely sure that it isn't you," Legolas told me.
It was enough. The next time I came across an elf who took one look at me, then giggled a whisper to their friend, I simply smiled to myself and continued on.
The Golden Wood earned its title well with the leaves that didn't fall until new ones arrived; it was currently a mix that left plenty of leaves to crunch satisfyingly underfoot. Walking around was nice now that I knew there wouldn't be another ridiculous mistake, especially with Boromir or Legolas beside me to admire the sights with.
Once Pippin, Merry, and I ambushed Sam with piles of leaves, only to find our beds stuffed with even more leaves when we went to lie down. We didn't do that again.
An archery contest happened while we were there and it was no surprise when Legolas tied with the champion from Lothlorien, both having hit dead center of a target I couldn't even see on the last round. Before it started I had actually been asked if I shot, to which I laughed nervously and shook my head. Without my glasses I'd probably accidentally kill somebody.
Strider- excuse me, Aragorn was in high demand in Lothlorien, so I barely saw him. He was a different person in civilization than in the wild but here that seemed to mix. The journey ahead was going to be at least as perilous as we thought, I guessed. Everyone around here had no clue who I was talking about when I mentioned Strider so I started switching to calling him the main one of his many names.
Meanwhile the longer we stayed, the more distressed Boromir seemed to get. Even Gimli had settled into contentment but not this husband of mine. It had to be sorted, I decided after a fortnight of him jumping at even more shadows than I did.
That night I crawled into the hollow with a question on my lips. The moment I was curled up in a comfortable position facing him, I asked, "What's wrong?"
In the darkness, Boromir sighed. "Too much to say," he whispered. Better than an outright denial.
"We have time," I told him. Fumbling in the dark, I found his hand and despite his little startle, I threaded my smaller fingers between his.
There was a long pause that I bit my lip to keep from breaking. Give him a moment, I told myself.
"Are you not unsettled by the Lady speaking in your mind?" Boromir finally murmured, "Asking questions that your heart can't answer?"
My mind flashed back to the images that she showed me, of my lifeless body and his. "It's weird that somebody else is in my brain, but I'm used to having voices up here." Despite that he couldn't see it, I tapped my temple. "At least she's an ally and means well."
"You've mentioned the voices before. What causes them?" Boromir asked.
No way was I getting into that right now. "Ah, ah, ah, I thought we were talking about what's been bothering you," I said in a teasing voice, "Not what goes on in my head."
"And if that's part of what worries me?" Boromir challenged.
I shrugged in a way that I knew he felt, being just an inch or two away. "It certainly isn't why you seem even more wary here than in Moria," I answered.
A heavy arm pressed down on my ribs and pulled me closer so that we were pressed tightly together, that hand creeping up the back of my tunic and undershirt. I shivered at the light, wandering touches. Chapped lips pressed gently to my forehead, then cheek and nose and chin; I shivered even harder in delight when they went to a spot under my ear.
"Are you trying to distract me?" I teased.
"I thought you wanted me to relax," Boromir whispered, breathing hot against my skin. He tugged at my earlobe with his teeth.
Well, he wasn't wrong. "You're trying to distract me," I sang quietly.
The hand up my shirt got into my hair near the scalp and pulled it into a fist. "Is it working?" Boromir replied with a little chuckle.
I hated to admit it, but… "Yeah. It's working," I gasped as heat zinged down my spine.
"Good."
We had a week and a half left in this little oasis, I reminded myself as I felt my way to kissing him like it was the main event. I had time to find out what was really bothering him.
For right then, I let him roll me over and just tried to keep from adding to the symphony of the night.