Chapter 7
Lord Elrond stood at the window, watching daily life continue as normal about Imladris. The sky was bluer and brighter than it had been in the past year, and he knew the reason why. Riders had brought news from Gondor, songs were sung about the brave Fellowship who valiantly brought down the Dark Lord. From the north came tales of horror and of valor, for terrible waste had been laid to the lush forests of Mirkwood, and now great black scars covered the land. But still, Celeborn and Thranduil's peoples had fought courageously and beaten back their foes. The shadow that had covered Mirkwood had risen and once again the name Greenwood graced the woods north of the mountains.
As he watched from the window, his daughter came into his sight, carrying her weaving. She smiled gently, as was her wont, but his fathers' eyes did not miss her glance to the east, ever searching for a certain man's return. Though they were assured of Estel's safety, she would not rest till he was within her embrace. Catching her father's gaze, Arwen lifted a hand in greeting, which halted abruptly in the air as trumpets sounded. Riders had been sighted east of the city! Elrond hurried from his chambers, allowing hope to cross his stern features. They were returned!
"O father!" Arwen called out joyfully. "Riders were sighted, four horses, and six riders! Finally, they have returned!" Elves began appearing on balconies, leaning out of windows and hurrying down to the main courtyard.
"Seven riders!" A Herald called out as he swung elegantly down from his horse. Bowing briefly before them, he explained his words. "Six ride of their own power, one rider appears sick or unconscious, or...." he frowned, unsure whether to voice his concerns. Elrond understood, but afforded himself no squeamishness,
"Or dead," he finished quietly. The joy on Arwen's face faded and fear marred her delicate features. Without a word, she turned and departed to find her horse to go to meet the riders. Lord Elrond maintained a dispassionate countenance and watched his daughter go. Though their news spoke of the coronation of Elessar, new King of Gondor, there was much that might have occurred in the trip from Minas Tirith to Imladris.
Arwen returned astride her horse, but got no further than the courtyard before the riders appeared, wearily leading their ponies. Leading them was Aragorn, his face creased with worry, exhaustion and grime, but his head was held high and his back straight, as befitted his status. For the first time in her long life, Arwen felt faint as relief flooded through her body. She longed to go to him, to throw herself in his arms and never let her go, but he was King now, and there were formalities that must be observed. She watched as Aragorn approached her father, for the first time as an equal.
Elrond also felt great relief at the appearance of Elessar, but relief warred with resentment. This was the man who would take his greatest treasure. Though he had raised this man, loved him as his own son, Arwen would always be his favorite child and this man meant to take her from him. Gravely, he returned the formal bow presented him, then allowed a glad smile to cross his face and embraced his foster-son and soon to be son-in-law. Taking the sceptre of Annuminas, he returned it to its rightful owner, then took his daughter's hand and placed it within that of Aragorn. Then he stood back and all watched joyously as Aragorn and Arwen were reunited.
"I feared I had lost you, my love," Arwen whispered into his ear. Aragorn smiled as her breathe brushed his ear as she spoke in the Elvish tongue.
"Never!" he whispered back. "In this world and the next, we are bound. I missed you, beloved; I have held your image before my eyes and your voice in my ear these past months. Only the knowledge that you would be here has kept me going." Kissing sweetly, they were oblivious to the muted cheers offered by Elves and Halflings alike. Clearing his throat, Elrond turned to offer his commends to the rest of the travelers.
"Gimli, son of Gloin! Though we be far removed, we have heard tell of the great Dwarf who fought so bravely and slew so many Orcs, that no one could keep count!" Bowing slightly, he smiled at the stout Dwarf who gruffly demurred, but everyone could see a slight pink bloom in his cheeks as he returned the Elf's bow. Elrond turned to the rest and was surprised at the two Halflings standing proudly before him.
"Do mine eyes deceive? Are these proud soldiers the same two silly Hobbits who stood before me not a year ago and made me wonder if they would survive? We have heard tell of Halflings riding with King Theoden, and the Lord and Steward of Minas Tirith. Heroic Hobbits, welcome back to Rivendell." Elrond's gaze then landed on Legolas and his burden.
"Legolas, son of Thranduil, King of Greenwood, my heart is gladdened by your safe return. But what is this person you have carried?" Elrond came to Legolas and looked into the face of a human woman, whose face was flushed with fever and the yellow of fading bruises. Long gashes ran from lip to ear on the side of her head. "Who is this?" he asked, surprised.
"We do not know. She appears not to speak any known language. We were in the forest west of Helm's Deep, when Gimli's sharp eyes caught sight of a figure falling or jumping off a cliff. I too, saw this fall and hastened to the spot to see if the person yet lived, but it took us quite some time ere we discovered her. She carried neither water, nor food, but traveled with a large canine. Though injured, she appeared neither mute nor dumb and indeed proved capable of speech, though not ours. She spoke only one word, which we could understand. She said "Shire," but did not understand our questions. Nearly seven days ago, however, she fell into fever and has since slipped into a deep-sleep, I fear." Ending his shortened tale of events, Legolas looked to Elrond for help, but Elrond was already turning, calling to Elves gifted in the healing arts. As servants appeared to take the sweaty ponies, Aragorn and Arwen disappeared on their own, and Pippin and Merry went off in search of sustenance. Legolas and Gimli had gone with the healers, leaving Elrond alone with the two remaining figures. He turned and gazed for a long time at the slight figures in front of him, then nodded thoughtfully.
"You have proved me right, young Samwise Gamgee. Thought Frodo is a valiant and brave Hobbit, I foresaw times when he would need a great heart to keep him hale. My greatest gratitude I give to you!" Elrond took the Hobbits hand in his own and looked into his eyes. Sam blushed slightly and looked at his toes, the intense scrutiny of the Elf proving too much.
"Well, I made a promise and Gamgees don't go back on their promises, they don't!" he cried. Elrond smiled gently and nodded, then changed his attention to the last traveler. Here, his face grew solemn and he saw before him a quite different Hobbit than the one who had so boldly stated his intent to destroy the ring. That Hobbit had been earnest and nervous, young and innocent. In front of him now, was a broken Hobbit, smiling, but pale, lacking the triumph that should accompany him. He looked, Elrond realized, fatigued beyond repair. With a sinking heart, it became clear to Lord Elrond, that Frodo was not long for this world. Though he had succeeded in his mission, he had lost his will to live. Placing his hands gently on the Hobbit's shoulders, he squeezed lightly in a most un-Elf-like gesture of warmth.
"Welcome back, Master Baggins. Though there is much I would say, there is someone here, who you may wish to see," he said, pointing Frodo off in the direction of Bilbo. As the two wandered off, he watched them, melancholy settling over him. There was, in fact, very little left to say.
**********
Having returned in the middle of September, the Hobbits and Gimli were treated to the beauty of an Elven city as the leaves turned brilliant shades of russet, crimson and gold. Time seemed to cease, and all were content to wander the pathways, sit by the water or relax in the company of loved ones. Nights were filled with festivities, celebrating the heroes and their fallen companion. Merry and Pippin were more than happy to regale the Elves with tales of the battles. And if, with each telling, the battles were a bit fiercer, the Orcs a bit bigger, the Halflings a bit braver, well, no one really minded. Even the severe Dwarf was cajoled into story-telling after enough Elvish wine. Lord Elrond, himself, was startled into laughter by the sight of three Hobbits romping with a dog big enough for them to ride. By the end of the month, the strange woman they had found had been all but forgotten as healers tried to wake her. There was one though, who could not let go and enjoy the easiness of Rivendell life. Frodo sat by Miranda's bed and read or thought, often all day long. He did this not out of pity or affection for a woman he barely knew, but out of fear. She had spoken of the Shire and he was afraid what that might mean. His home was his refuge and he was prepared to fight for it with every worn bone in his body.
******
On the eve of Iavas, the Elvish autumn, the healers were no closer in figuring out what ailed the human woman. Though they could easily bring down her fever, it would quickly spike again, but they could not find the source of the infection. Lord Elrond sat near the side of the bed, lost in thought, when a large yellow dog came bounding in.
"Maggie! Come back here!" Sam raced in after the dog. Maggie began sniffing and whining at her mistress and both watched in amazement as she frantically nosed under the woman's arm at her rib-cage. The dog jumped off the bed, came to Sam, and then, wagging her tail, returned to the bed, again nosing at Miranda's rib-cage.
"Can animals detect injury?" Elrond wondered, but came to the bed and lightly began searching the area the dog had indicated. To his surprise, he found a tiny puncture, no bigger than a nail head, under her breast. Using his healing gifts, he was able to dislodge a three-inch long sliver of wood. Holding the slimy piece in astonishment, he looked from it to the dog.
"Thank you," he said formally, then returned to the task of lowering the woman's fever.
By midday, the next day, the entire city was buzzing with the news that the stranger had wakened. Though she was weak and slept heavily, they were certain now that it was a healing sleep.
*****
The sixth of October found the four Hobbits together in their chambers talking of their home. All had come to agree that it was time they journeyed home.
"Though I will miss my uncle very much, I think I should like to be back in the Shire," Frodo said wistfully. "I miss my warm hearth and lazy days. The leaves have turned and soon they will fall, after that, the snows are not far off. I think it best if we take leave shortly."
"Me, too, Master Frodo! I've liked these days with the Elves well enough, but my garden needs tending before it frosts! And there are other things that want doing," Sam added.
"Weel, I fer one wouldna stay alone! It'll be nice, I think, ta be aroond normal sized lads again!" Pippin agreed.
"Count me in! I bet the Shire is as boring as a Dwarf-story without us there to liven it up a bit, eh Cousin?" Merry grinned, poking Pippin in the side. That evening they commenced with loading their sacks with provisions for the trip home. Pippni's bag, however, was nowhere to be found, until Sam dragged it out from deep under a bed.
"Ah and I do remember hidin it there now!" Pippin grinned and tipped the knapsack onto the bed to empty it. An odd, meaty smell drifted up as he did so.
"What in the world is that?" Merry said, pointing to a small brownish lump from which the smell issued.
"Ach that! I was savin that fer later! And its later!" Pippin said gleefully unwrapping the bit a sweetcake he'd brought from Minas Tirith. As he happily began eating, the rest grimaced in discuss, but something caught Merry's eye.
"Where'd you get this?" He asked, pulling a large (by Hobbit-standard) leather bag out of the sack. Pippin's eyes grew round and he choked lightly on his cake.
"Oops! I err.....I fergot about that'n! I foun that near wheres we found Miranda an brought it wi' me! I meant to tell ye all, but....weel...." he shrugged sheepishly. Intirgued, Frodo carefully reached inside the bag and began pulling out all sorts of odd contraptions. They recognized some things, like a hairbrush and although the makeup was strange, they had seen similiar things in human cities. The matierials were different however.
"This is vera strange," Pippin said, tapping on a round disc with a string leading from it to a sort of half moon. "I ha' niver seen this sort of wood before. D'ye suspect it might be Elvish?"he asked? The others shook their heads.
"This is somewhat like the circlet Lady Eowyn wore round her head," Merry said, pointing to the half-moon. Setting it aside, they pulled out what appeared to be clothing, though how it fit was beyond them. There were a few odd pens and more things they couldn't identify.
"Do you think we should show this to Strider?" Sam asked. "It could be some sort of weapon. Or at least he might tell us what it all is!" The rest agreed and together they trooped to the main hall, where the evening meal was about to begin. As the Hobbits were well aware. Before reaching the main hall, Sam murmured something about checking on something and disappeared.
After presenting the bag and its contents to Aragorn and Lord Elrond, the three Hobbits joined the rest in eating. Aragorn and Elrond went through the bag, but the majority of its contents stumped them as well. Legolas, seated to Arwen's right, took great interest in the items made from the strange hard material. Taking the disc, he poked at it and held it to his ear, but it spoke nothing.
"There appears to be writing of some sort on it, but I do not recognize it," he said. Pushing on what seemed to be buttons, were was surprised to feel the item begin to whirr. Suddenly his sharp ears caught the sounds coming out of the half-moon and he held them up to his ears.
"It's a strange sort of music, I think!" he said, curiosity piqued. The Hobbits immediatly clamored round, wanting to hear.
"Tis a rather terrible sort of music!" Merry said, grimacing, handing the contraption to Frodo who listened shortly, then agreed with Merry. The rest of the items were passed around, but little clues were available as to their purpose. Lord Elrond, having lived several millennia, was especially put out having no idea what is was, he was examining.
******
The man was incredibly hot. He was tall, blonde, built and and coming toward her, an 'I want you' expression all over his face. Taking her gently into his arms, he bent her back and lowered his lips to hers, kissing her with the perfect mixture of suction and tongue.
"More Mars bars?" he asked, presenting her with a bowl full of the chocolate, while kneeling down to rub her feet.
"Mmmmmhmm..."she moaned. "Oh Legolas, more-"
Miranda sat up in bed breathing hard, and looked wildly around the room. What the BLOODY hell was that? A dream? She was dreaming about the pretty boy?
**Christ, Miranda. A little old for Harliquen romance-dreams, aren't we?** she thought, sighing. Why were the dream-men only found in, well, dreams?
Rolling over, her eyes once again rested on the large bay window within her sight on the left side. Through it, she saw that the sun had set and lamp lights had appeared throughout the city, lighting it with a otherworldly glow.
`Well that makes sense, seeing as I'm IN an 'other' world. With little people and pointy-eared people and Vikings.` She spoke aloud, thinking she was alone, and was startled when a voice answered her.
"I'm sorry, I don't understand. However, by the expression upon your face, I'll wager you're feeling better. And since you haven't really had anything to eat in nearly two weeks, I bet you're hungry as a Hobbit, too!" Sam said, smiling at her.
Miranda had no clue what he said, but recognized "to eat," a verb made known to her with hand motions over the past week. Pulling a flowing sort of shift from the chair, he handed it to her and made a show of turning his back.
**Ahhh. Now I get the flowy robes. How fairy-esque!** Miranda pulled on the robe, making a face at the extra material pooling around her feet. Expecting to appear small and delicate when she looked at her reflection in the window glass, she sighed at the way the shift stretched across her hips and bust.
**Damn statuesque pointy-eared people. I was out of it for a couple weeks, judging from the changing of the leaves, and I couldn't lose a couple pounds? Obviously this world has no justice. Ah well, no one here I have to impress.**
Taking the arm Sam galantly offered (having seen Strider do the same to Arwen), they slowly made their way to the hall, Miranda leaning rather heavily on Sam, having not regained all her strength back.
Smiling at each other goofily, they entered the hall where Miranda stopped dead in her tracks. Ahead of her was the main dais where she was greeted with the sight of Merry and Pippin trying to play sling-shot with her 40£ Victoria's Secret Wonder bra. (Which did do wonders!) Legolas and Gimli were both listening to her discman, trying to figure out how it works. Aragorn and a pointy-eared woman had their heads together over her wallet looking at bad wedding pictures and another tall, dark-haired pointy-eared man was.....ohmigod.
`OH. MY. GOD!` Miranda roared. The entire hall looked up in surprise. `What the bloody HELL are you doing with my diaphragm?`