Wow! I'm back! Check it out! Finally, for all of you who have been pleading for more, here it is!
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There and Back Again
Lars slowly awoke to the realm of the conscious and living. She groaned as feeling returned to her, for it also brought pain. Birds chirped in the not far off distance and the bright light of day shone through her closed eyes. Beneath her Lars felt a warm and comfortable bed. She snuggled into the fluffed pillows and soft blankets.
"Welcome back, my dear Lars," said some one from close at hand
'It must be Saturday and that is my father come to wake me,' thought Lars. She smiled to herself as she sat up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. Last night she had had the weirdest dream in which she was Frodo and Lyell was Legolas but no she was called Legolen and herself Frodan. All her other friends had been a part of it as ell as the other members of the fellowship. Then the Nazgûl came and chased her to the ford and what was it? Oh, well. It was all a dream anyhow.
"I take it you are felling better?" asked her father as she opened her eyes sleepily, but it was not her father. There in the corner of the room sat a tall thin man. He wore a lofty and pointy hat that matched his gray cloak. His deep eyes looked intensely at her but his old and wrinkled face smiled at her as his beard drooped down into his lap.
"Gandalf?" Lars breathed wide-eyed and then felt the tug of a chain round her neck. Slowly she looked down to spy a solid gold ring upon the silver chain. As she ran her finger along the forbidden item what had happed for the past week slammed her.
"Have Adorn and Ken got you stuck doing that too?" Badall asked.
Slowly Lars shook her head as she felt both joy and dismay that it had not all been a dream.
The old wizard smiled. "How are you feeling, Lars?"
The little hobbit mover her arm gradually and it hurt only a little. All strength had come back and she would be able to use it. "Better," Lars stated. "Where are we?"
Badall looked to her with surprise. "Why, you do not know?"
Lars looked at him with absolute joy. "Rivendell…"
He nodded smiling.
Looking out at the fast valley the small hobbit she could smell the sweet water falling from a waterfall that tickled her senses. The sound of lilting Elven voices could be heard as white birds flew by and she looked curiously upon the architecture of the place in which she sat. It was the smooth and flowing pearl white stone and the curves of granite vines and cloth seemed to draw one's eyes to the beautiful statues of Elves.
At that moment, Salmas, who was closely followed by Lyell, walked into the room. Looks of wonder and joy came to light their eyes.
"Miss Lars!" cried Salmas.
"Are you well?" asked Lyell. "You scared us so. We thought you should never wake."
"How long have I slept?" inquired Lars.
"Almost a week now," replied the Elf.
Salmas nodded and he picked up his good friend's hand. "Oh! It is warm!" he exclaimed excitedly. "It had been deathly cold like ice before Lord Elrond had come."
"Elrond?" asked Lars. "He is here? Where?"
"Well, he is the Lord of Rivendell," commented Lyell. "I shall fetch him."
As the Elf left, Lars turned and looked to Badall.
"Sam and Lyell have almost never left your side," said he. "You are lucky to possess such friends."
Salmas smiled a big toothy grin. "Come and eat, Miss Lars. You must be hungry if you are any decent hobbit."
In walked a very tall and elegant Elf, followed by Lyell. His hair was a dark chestnut brown and tied in it was a half ponytail as was the fashion of Elves. In front of his ears hung two loose braids. His face was ageless, neither young nor old but his eyes held many secrets and countless years of wisdom. Those soft brown eyes looked kindly upon Lars as he smiled. "Welcome, Lady Lars to Rivendell," said he.
The emerald eyed one looked up to him in awe. There before here stood the one she admired so greatly. There stood, Elrond, Lord of Rivendell. Lars opened her mouth as if to speak but could not think of anything to say.
The brunet Elf smiled at the little hobbit. "It is good to see you are well."
Lars nodded as she flexed her arm to prove it. "It only hurts a little now," she replied. "I am forever indebted to you, Lord Elrond."
The Elven master smiled. "Think not of it. Now, let us feast. It is a time of celebration. Let us dawdle not on darkness for the time being. Come! Be merry!" With that said, Lord Elrond gracefully took his leave.
"Let us go!" cried Salmas. "There is food!"
"Food?" Lars asked as she pulled herself from the bed. She saw herself in a near looking glass and patted her now not so round belly. "Now that you mention it, I am rather hungry."
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It was a great banquet with, as was custom, the Lord Elrond at the head of the table. The smell of food filled the air and Lars' mouth began to water. The candles lit the room in a bright blaze, likening to daylight indoors. The dishes of gold on the table glittered in reflected light.
Beside Elrond sat Glorfindel and other the other, Badall. Both, Lars knew were mighty and powerful lords in the Elven courts of Rivendell.
In the middle of the table, against a woven cloth upon the wall, there was a chair under a canopy and there sat a lady fair to look upon and so like was she in form of womanhood to Elrond that Lars knew immediately whom she was. Young she was and yet not so. The braids of her dark hair were touched by no frost; her white arms and clear face were flawless and smooth. Yet queenly she looked and thought and knowledge were in her glance, as if one who has known many things that the years bring. Above her brow her head was covered with a silver lace netted with small gems, glittering white; but her soft gray raiment had no ordainment save a girdle of leaves wrought in sliver.
So it was that Lars saw her for whom few mortals has yet seen; Arwen, daughter of Elrond, in whom it was said the likeness of Lúthien had come on earth.
Lars looked first for her friends. She could see Salmas sitting with Adorn and Ken at the upper end of the table. Close to Arwen sat Ryken looking rather pleased as he gazed at Elrond's daughter. Further up the table sat Lyell, beside Glorfindel. The Elf fumed as she glared at the Rover beside Arwen. Lars could not find Rosran or Tom but they were there among the mass at the table.
Next to Lars on her right sat a dwarf of important appearance, richly dressed. His beard, very long and forked, was white, nearly as white as the snow-white cloth of his garments. Lars stopped eating to look at him.
"Good evening and well met!" said the dwarf and stood to bow. " Glóin at your service," he said as he bent to bow further still.
"And I am Lars-uh, erm-Frodan," she replied "It is a pleasure to meet you, Sir Glóin. Would it be rude to ask if you are the Glóin? The one that traveled with Bilbo, those many years past?"
"Quite right," he said seating himself once more. "And I do not ask for I have been told already that you are the kinswoman of our dear Bilbo the renowned. Allow me to congratulate you on your recovery."
"I, um, thank you, Glóin," Lars replied awkwardly as her head spun. Everything was going almost identical to the book, right down to every word Glóin said. The fact that she was living in a storybook made her queasy at trying to figure out how this had all come about.
Glóin quickly launched into the small talk that everyone does to pass the time. Lars learned well the gossip of the Wilderland. Of Grimbeorn the old and his lands. At the sign of Lars' attentive listening he embarked on the long account of the doings of the dwarf kings. He seemed delighted to have found such a good listener for Lars showed no lack of interest and did not attempt to change the subject; she was eager to know everything she could about Middle-earth, especially those things Tolken did not elaborate on.
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At long length the feat came to an end. Elrond and Arwen rose and went down the hall as the company followed in due order. The doors were flung open. There a large room stood with a fire blazing in the hearth between two pillars at the far end.
Lars felt herself walking to Badall. "This is the hall of fire," said the wizard. "Here you will hear many songs and tales-if you can keep awake."
"I know, I know," Lars snapped. "Gandalf says all that in the book."
Badall nodded. "So he does."
Time passed and Elvish music filled the air with sweet melodies and silver voices.
Suddenly someone cried out, "He is mine!"
Lars turned to look. It had been Lyell who had shouted.
"I think not!" yelled Arwen, grabbing a hold of Ryken.
"In real life he's my boyfriend!" Lyell bellowed grabbing his other arm.
"Look, it's okay," said Ryken calmly. "No need to fuss."
"You stay out of this!" they both yelled in unison.
"You know I don't care!" cried Arwen pulling him towards her. "You're in Middle-earth now. He's mine!"
"No he's not!" Lyell screamed pulling him her way.
"Yes he is!"
"No, he's definitely not!"
Elrond sat in his Elven crafted chair of bark and stone with his head upon his hand. "She's not my daughter," he said shaking his head. "She's not my daughter."
Lars went up to the two Elves and yelled, "You are being ridiculous!"
Lyell looked to the ground and let go of her boyfriend; her golden hair falling in her fair face.
Arwen did much the same as she looked out a window acting as if nothing at all had taken place that would disturb the joyous feelings in the hall of fire.
Lars looked at them sternly. "And you call yourselves Elves? You act more like women from the race of Men than Elves! You should be ashamed of yourselves!"
Lyell turned on her. "So this is how you repay me? By betraying one who is from the race of Men? Maybe I shouldn't have helped! Let you be taken by the Nazgûl!" The wood Elf glared at Lars and then stormed off.
"Wait!" cried Ryken as Lars stood dumbfounded. "Wait! Lyell!" He bolted off after her and Arwen after him.
Badall came up behind the hobbit and placed a hand upon her shoulder. "She shall be fine," he said softly.
"What did she mean by 'is that how I repay her?'" Lars inquired looking up to the wizard.
He sighed deeply. "When you were at the ford, did you not see white flame?"
The emerald one nodded. "I did before I lost consciousness."
"That light," he replied. "Was the Elven power of both Glorfindel and Lyell. He told her how she may find her Elven talents. You saw them for a moment upon the other side. They are the mighty first-born. Yes, perhaps there is a power enough in Rivendell to withstand Mordor but it shall come to pass and fail if Sauron finds the Ring." He smiled softly. "Do not judge her too harshly, for within still lies a teenage girl with, perhaps, some Elven wisdom seeping through. Remember, Elves may be immortal but still have harts that can be broken and those harts cannot go on in this life." After some time he spoke again. "She shall be fine. Now come! There is someone I wish you to meet!"
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Over in a corner sat a small cloaked figure, slumped over with a book on the floor beside him.
"Wake, little master," said Elrond with a smile and Gandalf pushed Lars forward.
"'Wake,' he tells me," said the tiny figure as he unhooded himself. "I was not asleep. I had been working on a song."
"Bilbo!" Lars cried. "Is it really you?" Now the memories from Frodo's, or rather Frodan's life filled her mind. The sweet and beautiful shire; the taste and feel of pipe-weed smoked with her dear friend and foster-father Bilbo; long walks in cool summers' nights; tales told by firesides and many other fond memories of a past life in the shire.
"My dear girl," Bilbo said giving Lars a hug. "It has been a long while since we have talked."
The little hobbit smiled. "That it has. Tell me, how has it been in Rivendell?"
"Quite well, quite well."
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Okay so maybe this chapter wasn't quite as funny and a little bit more serious but the next chapter is hilarious….promise!
^_^