Chapter Seven: SQUEEE! I'M IN ROHAN!!!!

I next opened my eyes to look in to those of a tiny child, whose eyes were dark and very solemn. He was sucking his thumb. I gasped softly and sat up, feeling extraordinarily light.

"You have wakened again, child." I looked up. An Elf was smiling at me, standing in a wooden doorway. I shook my head to clear it, blinked a few times, and attempted to wake up, becoming slightly more concerned when I realized that the picture was not going away. I pinched myself slightly, then realized that I was wearing a long white shift I didn't recognize.

My stained school clothes lay in a corner, sadly stained beyond recognition. I colored, and the Elf smiled gently, realizing what I was looking at.

"Do not be ashamed, child, for it was not I that undressed you. I would not cause the shame you mortals seem to surround your bodies with, even whilst you were asleep. Nay, you were undressed by the kind lady of the house."

I sighed, relieved, then realized that an Elf was talking to me about mortals' bodies, in some unspecified location in Middle-Earth. It didn't seem to be a dream, judging by the feel of the cloth on my body, the smell of the bedclothes and the Elf's sweet musical voice.

I'm in Rohan, I remembered, pre-LotR, Thengel's time…in the house of Eothir's sister…this Elf is Thengel's court healer…

I tried to remember the Appendixes. Something about Thengel talking only Westron in his house…? Maybe he brought this Elven healer from Gondor…?

I looked down again at the tiny boy, who continued to stare at me levelly, with large brown eyes that seemed to dwarf his small face. The Elf smiled, and held out a long-skirted dress with a flaring skirt. I took it, and he left the room, taking the little boy with him and shutting the door.

I held up the dress, unbelieving. After a few moments I got out of bed and put it on, feeling the soft folds of material as they passed over my head. I twirled for a few seconds, getting used to the length of the skirt.

My God, I'm in…I'm…I'm in Rohan. It had finally hit me, a blow like a sledgehammer, and I was suddenly ecstatic. I lifted the bedcovers to my nose and sniffed deeply, touched the wooden walls, danced around excitedly.

"I'm in Rohan! I'M IN ROHAN! SQUEEEEEEEE!!!!!"

The Elf poked his head in.

"Yes, you are in Rohan."

I grinned guiltily, worrying the folds of my skirt.

"Er…ah…I…"

The Elf smiled. "Know you that when an Elf heals a human, some of that human passes to him? You could not have kept such a secret for long from me, besides. Worry not; I would not betray a confidence, even an unwilling one. Look inside yourself; you will find that some of me has passed to you, as well."

I decided to set aside this piece of information for a later date, when it could be processed further as it deserved. It was only later that I would find out about the silver glint that had passed into my eyes.

*My name is Duradarion*, he said softly, but his lips did not move. I gasped.

*What's going on?* I thought frantically, completely bewildered.

*Forgive me. This is something called ka, that a healer can speak to someone he has saved from the very jaws of death without words.*

I gulped, unsure what this explanation meant, but unwilling to pursue the topic further, as it gave me goosebumps.

"Come, I would that you would meet Deowyn. She has been much concerned for you, and it would be a comfort for her to see you so well recovered."

I grinned again and nodded, wanting to see as much of Edoras as I possibly could. I'm in ROHAN! WHEEEEE!

The halls were wide and wooden, and there was a smell of straw and sweat in the air, mingled with horse smells and a lingering scent of bread baking. I almost skipped, realizing once and for all that I was in the land of my obsession.

Thank God I *am* a LotR geek, I thought. At least this way I have a chance.

Duradarion noticed my extreme cheerfulness amusedly, and led me through a few chambers and halls. I noticed the extreme grace of his movements and the lightness of his steps, the length of his limbs, the beauty in his very stride. A sense of wonder enveloped me, and sadness that these immortal creatures would soon leave Middle-Earth, and great beauty would be lost.

No wonder I cried at the end of RotK, I thought bemusedly.

My thoughts were interrupted by Duradarion's abrupt stop in front of a large chamber, where the tall blond woman I remembered meeting stood before a large table, kneading bread.

"Deowyn? The lass has recovered."

The woman looked up, her eyes lighting as she saw me. She strode over, smiling broadly.

"Ah, lass- what is your name? You had us worried! It would have grieved us all, had you died."

I smiled. "It would have grieved me more, I suppose. My name is Thalia, though that is all I remember of my past."

The woman laughed delightedly, and clapped me on the back. "Fortunate are we that you have come to grace our household! Indeed, it would be a great lifting of my burden to have another woman about the house. Freawen is a lovely girl, but as yet too young to be a true companion, and my days are lonely."

I grinned, liking her immediately, and noticing at the same time the bags under her eyes. I would put what skill I had to helping her, that I knew immediately, and at the same time gain a friend. Some of the suffocating loneliness that had choked me lightened, and I began to wonder if I would not settle into Rohan, after all.