Disclaimer: I claim nothing of that which has come from the mind of Tolkien.
Ch. 13
TO WISH
Bilbo seemed to be the first to notice her outfit, and if not, then he was certainly the first to voice it. He made it not a rude comment on her part, only seemed shocked and disturbed at the lack of attention the elves had provided her. But Bilbo held no ill will against them, for a lot had been on Lord Elrond's mind of late and, even if Bilbo had not a clue to what it might be, he could understand everyone's distraction.
Seeing the child--a short lass by human standards--in naught but a thin nightshirt, he firmly decided that she needed taking care of--of which he would do nicely. And so Bilbo took the lass to a fair elfmaiden--whom the hobbit had grown fond of over the years he had been staying at Elrond's--and she was more than pleased to help the two.
"Oh, I shouldn't look right in that," Apryl said, her eyes wide in wonder and awe. Easily, it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen and the mere thought of the silken dress on her clumsy self terrified her to no end. "I-I couldn't," she protested.
"Nonsense," the elf lady laughed, "It brings out the color in your eyes."
What color? Apryl wondered, but only to herself. When she had been younger her eyes had been a deep blue, rich and vibrant, but over the years the color had slowly drained away until they were naught but gray, like the ocean before a storm.
"Indeed, Apryl my lass," Bilbo agreed, quite pleased, "It should look splendid upon you."
The dress was a splendid thing, long and elegant, blue like the depths of a river, with silver lining that was pleasing to the eye. Apryl--not a fan of dresses by a long shot--fell in love with it.
"Please, my dear," Bilbo said, noting the reluctance in her eyes. "Put a smile on an old hobbit's face."
Apryl looked down at him in surprise. He smiled at her kindly and all she could do was hesitate a moment longer, before nodding to the elven woman.
"I would be honored," she said, never more sincere.
Pleased, the old hobbit clapped his hands. "Very well," he said, "I shall leave you ladies to do your thing and perhaps I might just find my nephew, Frodo. He should like to see you, I think, and since I know where you are all I have is to find where he is." He noted that her eyes alighted with obvious excitement. "A difficult task perhaps, but one that is not too great for the Bilbo Baggins," he added with an absent chuckle, turning to leave and, before she could say aught--thank him or otherwise--he was gone from the room, moving very fast for such an old hobbit.
The elfmaiden laughed. "Such is our dear Bilbo," and Apryl saw that she was smiling after the hobbit in a fond sort of manner.
It took only a few moments for the elf to help her slip into the gown, and when she looked at herself in a full-length mirror Apryl was surprised with what she saw. No longer did she see a girl who bore a sad, wistful expression--a girl who wore jeans and an overlarge jacket just to hide within--but, instead, a young woman whose eyes were alight with some unrecognizable emotion. Apryl didn't recognize this person and wondered if this was the Lady Atira that Gandalf and all the elves seemed so fond of.
She glanced over at the elven woman. "It's beautiful," she said softly. "Thank you."
"Nay, my dear," the elfmaiden said. It seemed there was a joyful sadness in her eyes. "You are what is beautiful, but you should not need me to tell you such." She looked at the young Istari, older than her by countless millennium, and offered her a comforting smile.
Before Apryl could say aught:
"But it is not done," the elf said, turning. "We could not have you walk around with naught on your feet. You are not a hobbit."
Apryl remembered that she wore nothing upon her feet. She'd been running around with no shoes on she had awoken the night before and she'd become so accustomed to the lack of shoes that she had forgotten otherwise.
"Here," the elfmaiden produced a pair of slippers the color of her dress. She slipped them on.
There was a knock on the door.
"Come in," the lady called and the door swung open upon silent hinges.
A young elf stepped in. "Lord Elrond wishes the Lady Atira to join him for breakfast." He looked at Apryl expectantly. She glanced at the elfmaiden who gave a modest nod of her head and an ever so visible smile. Apryl turned to the elf and nodded.
"I'd be honored," she said kindly.
Elrond debated upon intervention but at the last decided against it. The she-elf paid him no mind, anyhow, but merely continued her pacing.
"I don't see why we have to do this now," she said at one moment. Then, naught a moment later, "No. Now, for the longer I wait the madder she'll be. She'll never forgive me, I know it." She cursed bitterly, using a word Elrond did not recognize, though which sounded foul to his ears. She muttered an apology, but did not cease her pacing.
Legolas, who watched his friend with growing worry, glanced to Lord Elrond. For what, the half-elf knew not. He shrugged helplessly; knowing naught could be done for Morgainne's frustration and worry.
"My dear, you are giving me a head-ache," Gandalf spoke, not unkindly. "Would you not be seated with the rest of us?" The she-elf paused in her pacing, though not to heed Gandalf's words but to glare at the old man with a most heated gaze. Either stared at the other, neither quailing. Finally, Legolas got to his feet and clasped the she-elf by a shaking hand. Her gaze broke with the old man's to glare instead at the elf, though he did not back down and neither did he return her hated gaze but smiled at her instead. A moment passes and small hesitant smile broke the cloud hovering over the she-elf's face.
She has the illness but he has the cure, Elrond thought in mild amusement, as with no words spoken, she was calmed and brought to sit with the others.
Apryl followed the elf through so many intricate halls that she soon was thoroughly lost. She tried to recall the path they took but after the second left, another right, again a right, and a left which was followed by a right at a fork and another right not five paces later, the young Istari figured matters as such were best left up to the elf. She trusted his judgment.
As she followed, Apryl suddenly realized that her stomach was full of butterflies and wondered at how long they had been there. Now that she thought about it, it seemed she had had them ever since awakening in Middle-earth. How odd, she mused with a secretive grin. But exciting.
But for all the twists and turns, it was not long before the elf brought her outside, where already the clouds were dissipating to let through the golden rays of the sun, and to a small garden set aside from the rest of the grounds. There, both elf and Istari found a small group seated at a table. One, a woman with hair as dark as the night, looked up at the sound of their approach and jumped to her feet. She was followed almost immediately by a tall elf that, after several hurried steps forward, thought better of it and hung back uncertainly.
Apryl noted Lord Elrond at the head of the table and easily depicted the other as Gandalf, but she was curious at these other two, for she was too far away to tell who they might be. Slowly, as the female approached, Elrond rose to his feet, whereas Gandalf remained seated and seemingly disinterested. Apryl watched the lord and older Istari curiously for a moment before her gaze fell to the woman who was hurrying over. Long before she approached, recognition dawned on the young Istari's face.
"Morgainne?" she whispered, in obvious disbelief. She never waited for an answer though, for she knew it could be no other, and raced to her friend. They embraced--Apryl nearly bowling her taller friend over, but neither caring--and they held on to one another for fear the other might disappear.
"Your here," Apryl laughed, clinging to her friend. "I can't believe your here. You're here. We're here, Morgainne, we're here! Middle-earth! God, do you believe it?" She pulled away from her friend and looked at her, her voice falling to a whisper. "We made it." There were tears in her eyes.
Morgainne smiled and nodded, could not speak for the joy of finally seeing her friend alive and well. "Yes," she said, her voice shaking ever so. "We made it, Apryl. Finally." She did not know what to say--where to begin--but knew it must start somewhere.
Yet, all that had bogged her mind down for the past several days vanished as she spied one simple little thing that amused her to no end. "You're wearing a dress," was all she said, a hint of disbelief in her voice for she had never seen Apryl wear a dress.
Apryl blushed and nodded. "I couldn't say no. It's so beautiful and Bilbo seemed so bent--" she stopped, her eyes alighting with an emotion one can't quite place.
Finally, after two days of inexpressible joy, with no one to fully and truly share with, finally, Apryl could voice her excitement to someone who could understand why she was so excited to meet some 'everyday' hobbits. "Oh, Morgainne, I've met them! I've met the hobbits!" She spun away from her friend, and with her arms spread wide she was nearly jumping up and down from excitement. "I've met Bilbo and he wanted me to wear this dress and I did cause he wanted me to make him smile and of course I wanted to make him smile cause he's Bilbo, and I met Pippin--oh, God, I met Pippin--and we laid in the rain together and we talked and I told him that I thought he was my falcon and he promised that I wouldn't be alone and I met Merry and he sang to me--sang, Morgainne, he sang to me--but then I cried cause I thought I was dreaming and I didn't want to wake up cause I think I might die if I have to leave this place and--and--and--," she took a ragged breath. "I don't want to leave, Morgainne."
Morgainne looked down at her friend, caught her gaze and held it firmly. She shook her head. "You don't have to leave, Apryl, not every if you so wish it."
Apryl smiled and hugged her friend. "I so wish it," she said and meant it with all her heart.
*****
Sorry this one's so short. Review for me anyway, though? I love your guys' reviews—all the things you like (and you can write your dislikes too; you can only learn from mistakes—no pun intended.^^)—I appreciate 'em so much!
