Thanks for all the reviews! Really you have no idea what positive feedback and constructive criticism mean to me. My Writer's Craft teacher is less than generous when it comes to marks, tends to miss the point and offers criticism that is less than helpful. So, you're reviews are really, really appreciated, and I take all criticism to heart. Thank you.

About the time jump. For the plot I want this story to have, it needed to happen. I do promise, however, to do a companion to this story once it's done that covers the missing four years, more of the twins adjustments, and their relationships with Elrond and a few other characters.

About Common Speech and English being similar. There're not. In Middle Earth, the Common Tongue is actually a language called Westron. It is not related to English as far as I can tell. The books, all the conversations in them, even a few of the character names have all been translated into English from Westron for our benefit. An example of this is the word for Rivendell. The Elvish is Imladris, the Westron word is Karningul, and the English translation is Rivendell. The whole matter is explained in Appendix F following The Return of the King, and Tolkien does a much better job of it than I can if there is any remaining confusion.

One more quick language note. Italics indicate that that word is in a language different than that of the rest of the sentence. Usually this would occur when the twins are speaking Sindarin or Common and run into a word they don't know, and therefore change language momentarily. If they're speaking Sindarin, the word is in English. If the rest of the sentence is Common the italicised word is Sindarin.

Additional disclaimer: Something From Nothing is a book by Phoebe Gilman, and is adapted from a Jewish folktale. It's not mine. All previous disclaimers stand.

As the sun rose on the first day of travel, Penny and Kieran slowly started to look around at their surroundings. By the time they were really awake they were far enough from Imladris that their surroundings were unfamiliar. The trees were bare for the winter and the sun was yellow and cold in the sky. When it was light enough to see the path easily, Glorfindel nudged Asfaloth into a trot and the twins followed suit. Elloth's trot wasn't quite as smooth as that of the elven horses, and Penny posted to compensate. The continuous up and down motion didn't bother her and made the ride smoother.

Around noon they stopped to rest their horses and eat. Glorfindel brought out bread, dried fruit and cheese. The horses were picketed near by, eating oats laid out for them by the twins and Glorfindel. As soon as the meal was finished they moved on. Glorfindel set an easy pace for the rest of the day. They didn't stop until dusk.

Glorfindel pitched his tent, and let the twins pitch theirs. Between the two of them they managed.

"Shouldn't you be good at this?" Penny asked, automatically speaking Sindarin in the presence of an elf. "You did want to be an architect back home."

"Yeah. They design buildings. They don't build them."

"Still. We learned how to do this. We should be able to pull it off."

They struggled with the poles for a few minutes while Glorfindel watched. Once those were in place it was a simple matter to set the material over it and set their bed roles inside. Glorfindel caught a couple of fish, which the Penny cleaned and gutted while Kieran built the fire. Glorfindel showed them a way to cook fish over the fire using herbs found in the forest for flavouring. It was good, and after a day of riding, the food disappeared quickly. After supper they cleaned up and went to bed. Glorfindel kept watch. The twins weren't used to long journeys and needed their sleep.

The first week of travel was fairly uneventful. They were careful to avoid any orc patrols in the region, but so close to Rivendell, the frequent hunts of Elladan and Elrohir made that problem minimal. Over the first few days, Glorfindel set a pace which was fine for an elf, but hard for edain. He paid attention to the horses' need to rest, which was a blessing for the twins., and slowly he adjusted the pace for them.

A typical day was to wake to at Tindome, the predawn twilight. One of them would make breakfast, one would check the water supply and refill the water skins as needed, and one would do whatever dishes there were. The jobs rotated daily. After the meal they would care for the horses and break camp. Generally they alternated between a walk and a trot for the day, though occasionally they would break into a canter. As they rode Glorfindel would talk to them, pointing out things in Common and teaching them as best he could on horseback. They stopped once at noon, then went until dusk before stopping again to make camp. At night the jobs were pretty much the same as the morning, except whoever did water also dug the latrine and supper duty may involve hunting, in Glorfindel's case, or fishing, which the twins usually opted for, and whoever did dishes was also in charge of the fire. The horses were always cared for first, though, and picketed in a safe place.

After the dishes were done, before they went to bed, Glorfindel would tell tales and sing songs of the First and Second Ages of the world. Kieran would sketch or mark their journey on a map and Penny played flute between stories.

In the second week they had to start avoiding orc patrols heading east, and watch carefully for signs of them while they rode. They stayed close to the river and in the sunlight as much as possible. The days were growing shorter now, and the terrain became more open. The windswept fields were beautiful, but cold with no trees for protection. They also had the potential to be dangerous at night as shelter was almost impossible to find. It was easier to see danger from afar, though, which was a mixed blessing as if it was easier for them to see, it was also easier to be seen.

The fire had been built and Glorfindel had gone to check for any sign of orcs again. He would stand watch for the night, being able to sleep on Asfaloth without falling off as needed. For once Kieran wasn't sketching, but rather watching the dancing flames and the emmerging stars. It was cold. The twins could see their breath in the frosty air and sat comfortably with a warm blanket around their shoulders. The river splashed and gurgled in the background.

Softly Penny sang,

"Fire's burning, fire's burning.

Draw nearer, draw nearer.

In the glowing, in the glowing.

Come sing and be merry."

The second time around, Kieran started as she began the second line, turning it into a cannon. They sung the round a few more times before letting it fade. The moved on to other songs, and without the elf it felt almost like a camping trip in Algonquin Park back home.

They stopped when the elf returned to sit by the fire.

"I have spent three weeks singing songs of Middle Earth," Glorfindel said, "but in four years I have never asked to hear any songs from your home."

"You wouldn't understand them," Kieran pointed out.

"Stories can be translated," Glorfindel said, "and songs are pleasant to listen to."

"Music is its own language," Penny said.

Kieran held up his hands. "I'm not singing."

"Then we will tell a story. Let me think. Oh--Something From Nothing. It's a folk tale." She re-told the familiar story, with Kieran interrupting to describe what the land and houses would have looked like in vivid detail, to the point of doing a quick sketch of one of the pictures from the book back home. Before long the two were interrupting each other as each remembered details the other forgot and they embellished the tale based on the pictures they remembered. The book had been a favourite in the Ryan household for many years. As they spoke their accents became thick in their enthusiasm, and they lapsed occasionally into English before realizing their mistake and backing up to translate. Glorfindel smiled at the story of how Joseph's blanket evolved to a coat, a vest, a tie, a handkerchief, a button, then got lost and the young boy learned that even his grandfather could not make something from nothing, but Joseph could make a wonderful story. He understood them better, hearing tales from their childhood, from their land. It was nice to see them so happy, stumbling over words they had learned only recently, and trying to explain words they hadn't so he could guess and fill them in.

"That's a wonderful story," Glorfindel said when the twins had finished. "I would like to hear more stories from your home."

"Some day," Penny agreed.

"Translating's hard work," Kieran said. "Perhaps you could tell us a story now."

"A short one. Then bed."

"Of course."

From then on the campfires had one story from Earth, and one from Arda every night.

The forest by the river was unusually quiet today. The wind still blew, rattling a few stubborn leaves that hadn't fallen in the autumn. It was hard to pinpoint what was wrong, as the forest was always quiet in the winter, and a fresh blanket of snow had fallen during the night erasing any tracks from the previous day. Still, there were always a few birds that stayed the winter and sang on all but the coldest days. There were none, and the temperature was not so cold that they should be hiding. The horses were uneasy as well. Glorfindel and the twins tread carefully in single file, saying nothing.

A twig snap was all the warning they got before they were surrounded, if one could call it surrounded, by five men armed with worn bows and arrows. The horses tried to rear, but a quick word from Glorfindel stopped them, though they still neighed and tossed their heads, stepping in place nervously. The elf horses calmed down fairly quickly, but Elloth refused to stand still, shifting her weight constantly, wanting to bolt so Penny had to use most of her energy to keep her in place. Kieran and Glorfindel were able to whip out their bows and put arrows to them almost immediately.

"Easy, Elloth. It's okay," Penny murmured in English. Slowly she let go of the reins and drew her own bow, aiming for the shoulder of the man nearest her.

"I suggest you leave," Glorfindel told the bandits calmly in Westron.

"We outnumber you," one of the men, larger than the others with a scruffy brown beard, said.

"And I have several thousand years of experience in archery."

"Can't shoot five at once."

"I don't need to." He continued speaking calmly, projecting an air of authority, but though Penny could pick out several words, they weren't enough for any real understanding beyond the fact that he was stalling.

Kieran looked scared, but his arrow was trained on the shoulder of the bandit nearest him, unwavering with the slight movements of his horse. As Glorfindel spoke, Kieran became more confident, and the fear on his face gave way to a sort of determination and anger. Penny herself was afraid, but she forced herself to push her fear aside so she could focus on her horse, bow, and the men surrounding them. She needed to act calm, or Elloth would bolt.

The man Glorfindel was speaking to suddenly drew back the string of his bow as if to shoot and quick as lightening the elf's arrow was embedded deep in the man's shoulder. With a yell, the others made to shoot their weapons, but only one got the chance as Glorfindel shot a second robber without thinking and the twins loosed their arrows. Kieran hit his mark--the shoulder--but Penny, anticipating problems from Elloth as the horse danced away from a flying arrow, tried to compensate and ended up embedding an arrow in the flesh below her assailant's knee. He dropped his bow, rather than shoot, and his arrow went wild, scaring Elloth into a rear that dumped Penny on the ground. Fortunately the two feet of snow was soft so it didn't hurt much, and she quickly stood to grab Elloth's reins and draw her sword, which she pointed at the bandit she'd felled. Kieran and Glorfindel each had their bows ready and trained on one of the other four, ready to change their aim at a moment's notice. An arrow stuck out of Glorfindel's left arm a little below the shoulder.

"Leave," Glorfindel said simply.

The robbers hesitated and scrambled away.

"Are you hurt?" the elf asked.

"No," the twins answered simultaneously.

Kieran looked a little sceptical.

"For the record, I don't consider minor bruises hurt," Penny told them. "The arrow Glorfindel just ripped from his arm, I consider hurt." She handed Elloth to Kieran and dug her medicine kit out of the saddle bag. They didn't have time to stop. It obviously wasn't safe, but the wound should be bandaged at least.

"I'm fine," Glorfindel said as she approached.

"You're bleeding," Penny corrected. "Let me bandage it, at least."

"We should move."

"I'm not going anywhere until you get off your high horse and let me see that arm."

Kieran grinned, but idioms and puns rarely translate well, and this one was lost on Glorfindel.

"My horse is not that tall," Glorfindel said.

Kieran snickered and Penny disguised a laugh with a cough. "It's a joke, Glorfindel. Just get down here." Her voice trembled with barely contained laughter.

The elf obeyed and Penny examined the wound carefully. It looked clean. No obvious dirt or grit was in it, anyhow. Before leaving Rivendell, Penny had steeped athelas in water for the journey. Now she dug out a vial of the solution and soaked a small cloth square in it. She bound it to the arm, reasoning that it should act against any poison that might be on the arrow. She couldn't call someone back from the Shadows, but the herb had healing power on its own.

"There. That wasn't so bad, was it?" Penny asked as she pulled the sleeve of Glorfindel's shirt back down.

"Athelas water?"

She shrugged. "Always clean a wound."

"It was not poisoned."

"I'm being careful. In my language we call it disinfecting so poison cannot enter the wound later." She wasn't about to try to explain bacterial infection to an elf.

"Can we go? Kieran called from atop Brethil.

"Yes," Glorfindel said, mounting Asfaloth.

Penny took Elloth back and mounted her, and they continued on their way.

As the weeks passed and the nights lengthened, the days grew colder. Even into early December the temperature hovered around freezing during the day, but at night dipped to around ten below at times. About half way through December the first flurries of snow grew into heavy snow falls. When the snow got too deep or the path too icy, Glorfindel and the twins dismounted and led the horses over the uneven terrain. As if slogging through knee deep snow on a regular basis wasn't bad enough, Glorfindel walked over the snow, leaving not even a footprint to show his passing. As an elf, he sometimes didn't recognise the difference between snow covered hills and snow drifts until Penny and Kieran were waist deep. At night Penny and Kieran huddled beneath several blankets around the fire while Glorfindel kept watch.

"Stupid elf," Kieran muttered one night in English. "Doesn't get cold, doesn't sink so he leads us into snow drifts where we sink waist deep, won't let us stop in towns."

"The one we passed today is in the middle of an epidemic," Penny pointed out. "From what he said it sounds like influenza."

"If I could spend one night in a warm bed, I'd take the flu for a few days."

"Glorfindel said something about high mortality rates. I doubt it'll be pandemic here, but it sounds like the flu of 1917 on Earth. I'm with you about the cold, though." She pulled the blanket closer.

"Do you think it's not an accident? This flu?"

"Beats me. I can't see the point of killing a small, out of the way town, and I don't think it's that deadly. If we run into a bunch of towns where people are dropping like flies. . . Even then, these things happen."

"I know. We can't do anything about it. I guess a lot of people won't be very trusting anyhow," Kieran said. "Maybe avoiding towns is a good thing."

"I know it's safer, but it's still cold."

Glorfindel added another branch to the fire. "It's time to practice Common"

The twins protested half heartedly. "We'd rather hear a story," Kieran said in Sindarin.

"Or a song," Penny added. They did this every night. It never worked. As if having things of interest pointed out in Common Speech wasn't enough.

"I'll tell you a story in Common," Glorfindel said. "One you know," he added, seeing their panic.

"Which one?" Kieran asked suspiciously.

"The one Penny tells every year on this night about the baby born in a stable."

"By the Valar, it's Christmas?" Kieran asked.

"Apparently, Mr. I-don't-need-a-calendar-to-keep-track-of-the-days," Penny said wryly.

"Well, you didn't realise either," Kieran said defensively.

"I was letting you keep track. Wait a minute. Glorfindel, why were you keeping track of our holidays?"

"Because I have been keeping track of the date since we left Imladris. It is December 24, and I have observed that the twenty-fourth and twenty-fifth of December are still important to you, and that every year you tell the same story to Elrond, and anyone else who asks or listens."

"It's important in our family," Penny said. "The one on Earth, at least." Even after four years and adopting the general beliefs held in Middle Earth it felt strange not to acknowledge Christmas. It was also one of the hardest times of the year, when they remembered it, and somehow forgetting this year made it worse. Explaining the holiday had been nearly impossible the first year, but the next year the twins had managed a mostly coherent explanation to Elrond. Now they disguised their celebrations with the larger celebrations surrounding Yule and the Winter Solstice. Except this year, of course.

"Shall I begin?" Glorfindel asked. The twins nodded, so he began on a simplified version of the already simplified translation into Sindarin. Penny and Kieran didn't understand most of it, but they caught several words and used logic and Glorfindel's gestures to fill in the rest.

"Thank you," Penny said when he was finished.

"Thank you," Kieran echoed. "I guess it's our turn."

"End the lesson there?" the elf asked in jest.

"Well we can't sing Christmas songs in Common. We need to sing them in English."

"All right, but only because--"

"Thank you."

They started on the German tune to Away In A Manger, and sang a few more songs after that, Penny adding a descant or harmony where she could.

In January they came to fields not covered in snow, but frozen all the same. It was still cold, but they no longer had to dry out at day's end and Glorfindel assured them that their goal was only a month away. When he announced this, the twins looked at each other.

"Only a month," they muttered simultaneously, and sarcastically, in English.

"I may not understand English, but I can guess what you said," Glorfindel told them.

They came to a small town where Glorfindel allowed them to restock. The twins had never been in a Middle Earth town before and looked around at the narrow streets. The signs made no sense, as they had not read in Common in some time and many of the words would be unfamiliar even if they had more than a limited command of the written version of Westron, but the strange writing didn't seem to bother Glorfindel. He led them through the crowds to a meat shop, where they bought a small ham, a bakery, where they bought a loaf of fresh bread and, as a treat, some buns stuffed with dried fruit and glazed with honey, and last, to a more general store where they replenished their supply of dried fruit. Glorfindel wouldn't let them stay the night, but it was nice to see humans again, even if they were impossible to understand and Glorfindel kept his hood up the whole time. People spoke to Penny and Kieran a few times, but received only shrugs. When they asked Glorfindel, he said that they were simple, and understood little language. Then people shook their heads sadly and walked away.

While Glorfindel was buying the fruit, Kieran tapped Penny's shoulder and indicated that they should slip away. Against her better judgement, Penny agreed and followed him into the street. Glorfindel had given them leave to look around without him as long as they stayed in the same store, so slipping away was fairly easy.

Outside, Kieran grinned. "You'd think we were children the way he behaves."

"I know," Penny agreed. "I think it has something to do with the language barrier, but I think I can communicate on my own by now. It's not like we started lessons yesterday."

"No kidding. We're nineteen. We can take a walk by ourselves."

"Just remember, my name's Aislinn here."

"Sure thing, Aislinn. Let's go."

They poked their heads into several shops before finding a carpenter shop and going in. in addition to furniture, wooden bowls, flutes and figurines decorated the shelves. The twins looked around while the shop keeper, a man with greying hair, watched. The figures of animals and people were beautiful and simple.

"Kieran, Aislinn," Glorfindel said behind them. "Come with me." He spoke in Common, but it was a phrase they understood well.

They didn't bother protesting. Instead they turned, barely masking their grins, and followed him out of the shop. They left town immediately.

"No more stops," Glorfindel said as they rode.

"That's a little unreasonable, don't you think?" Penny asked.

"Yes. The horses need to rest," Kieran said. "And we can't sleep on moving animals."

"Don't help me, Kieran."

"No more stops in towns," Glorfindel clarified.

"Aw, come on," Kieran protested.

"I cannot trust you. You behaved like children, wandering off."

"We behaved like adults wanting a little freedom. You're the one who's treating us like children. We are not."

"Do you not understand, Kieran son of John son of Albion of the Blue Mountains, that you cannot wander because you cannot speak Westron."

"Westron?"

"Common," Penny supplied, "and we can speak some. We've been learning for--what?--seven months now? We like being able to do things for ourselves."

"Seven months is far from fluent, Penelope," Glorfindel said. "You cannot afford to draw attention to yourselves until we know how and why you came here."

Kieran opened his mouth, but Penny beat him to it. "Just try to understand that we've spent the past four years being protected, mostly in one place until two months ago. It's nice to see other Edain, and it's nice not to be watched. We're nineteen. We're not exactly children."

"Nineteen is still very young."

"Young for a ten thousand year old elf. Not so young for Edain who only live perhaps seventy years. By the laws of our homeland we were adult last year."

"I'm not ten thousand. Aragorn listened to his elders when he was your age."

Penny and Kieran gave a short laugh. "Not according to Elrond," Kieran said. "Besides, Aragorn was also doing things on his own at our age."

"He was with Elladan and Elrohir," Glorfindel stated, "and he spoke the Common Speech fluently, and this conversation is over. No more stops. We'll be there in three weeks."

The next three weeks were uneventful. Glorfindel drilled them in Common whenever he could, and reviews of the alphabet and writing replaced songs and stories at night. Both twins came down with slight colds three days after visiting the town, but other than easing the pace a little, and drinking peppermint tea every night, they didn't have to make any adjustments and the problem healed itself in about a week.

They passed into the forest about a week after the last traces of the colds had faded. They were careful, and watched for streams now, having left the river behind them. There was no hurry, so they kept to a walk, not wanting to risk injury to the horses.

The town of Clearwater, when they finally came to it, was nestled in a clearing at the base of the mountains, surrounded by small farms. Once inside the walls, the travellers were greeted by wooden houses and shops no more than two stories high lining the main roads. The streets were, if not crowded, then busy as people wandered from ship to shop. They had hair varying degrees of brown, ranging form almost blond to indistinguishable from black at a distance. All the men seemed to have shoulder length hair while the women's was considerably longer and loose, which was the same as most Edain of Middle Earth. The clothing was simple, mostly brown, beige or dark colours with cloaks for warmth.

The elf, young man with not quite shoulder length hair, and young woman dressed as a man drew many stares as they made their way to the inn. At the centre of the town was a large square lined by shops and open air stands full of supplies and handicrafts. Apparently they had come on market day. The inn was easy to find at the far end of the square; the Laughing Lark.

The inside was dark, even in the day, though not crowded, as last night's crowd had left and tonight's crowd had not yet arrived. Still, there were perhaps a dozen people throughout the common room eating and drinking.

The twins followed Glorfindel to the counter where the inn keeper sat counting money. He was a heavy set man, well muscled, with dark hair and blue-grey eyes.

"I wouldn't want to run into him in a dark ally," Kieran muttered in English.

Glorfindel made a slight motion for them to be quiet as Penny gave a slight nod of agreement.

"Exuse me," Glorfindel said. "We're looking for Alden son of Alcan. Do you know where we could find him?"

With his hood up, the inn keeper couldn't see that he was an elf. "I know, but I'm not in the habit of telling strangers where my friends live."

"This man and woman are his great-nephew and niece," Glorfindel said.

"How do I know you speak the truth?"

"You must take me on my word, but I know that Alden's brother vanished about sixty years ago."

"Sixty two. What was his name?"

"Albion son of Alcan," Penny said.

"And the name of his sister, who vanished with him?"

"Vanished?" Penny asked Glorfindel, and he repeated the word in Sindarin. She nodded her understanding.

"He vanished with Ailyn daughter of Aimel. She is his wife," Penny said. "We are their grandchildren.

"You understand that?" Kieran asked softly in English.

"Don't you?" Penny asked in the same language.

"Bits and pieces."

"Same here. Enough to give a name or two."

"Well, you look like the folk around here," the inn keeper said slowly. "My name's Belor. Alden owns the bakery. You'll find him there."

"Thank you," Glorfindel said and led the twins back into the streets. Quickly he summarised the conversation in Sindarin so they could catch anything they missed, and they followed the scent of baking bread to the north side of the square.

Once at the door of the bakery, Glorfindel lowered his hood and led them in. At the counter an old man, perhaps in his late seventies, took orders from the four patrons lined up, handed them various types of bread, and accepted payment. Cold sunlight streamed in through the single window offering enough illumination to see by. The place smelled of flour, yeast, and baked goods. Various breads, pastries, cakes, buns and cookies were displayed on shelves behind the counters. The shop was small, and would probably hold no more than a dozen people total, but there was evidence of a back room, from where the smell of baking bread wafted in from.

"What can I do for you?" the man asked Glorfindel eventually.

"Are you Alden son of Alcan?" Glorfindel asked.

"I am."

"Then we need to speak to you. I've brought these youngsters from Imladris. They are Albion's grandchildren."

Penny and Kieran moved slightly closer together and held hands loosely. They were concentrating very hard on understanding this conversation--getting familiar words, filling in the blanks. Penny hated this feeling of ignorance and helplessness, and knew that Kieran did as well.

Alden's eyes widened in shock. "How can this be? Albion disappeared sixty years ago."

"He and his wife went. . ." and Penny lost the conversation. Glorfindel seemed to explain the situation in great detail, but the twins could only grasp a handful of words and phrases to the effect of, "They lived in Rivendell," and, "They speak little Common, but know Sindarin." The elf was no longer going out of his way to use short sentences using words mainly in their limited vocabulary. Alden said something about them looking like the people of Clearwater.

"This could be interesting," Kieran muttered in English. "I don't think he believes us." He stated the obvious out of a simple need to understand something in the room and feel like he was doing something.

Penny nodded. She understood the feeling well. "Why an elf would lie about such things. . . How can we prove that Glorfindel's telling the truth?"

"We can't."

Okay, this chapter's a little short, and it took a little longer than I would have liked. It's mostly because of school. Summatives, you know, and I'd really really like to graduate this year. I'm not sure how good this is. I've never really written any action scenes before, and I don't think this is a particularly strong chapter to begin with, but the next one should be better.

Please review. I like constructive criticism.