Chapter Four: Rivendell
A/N: Okay, I do realize that the past two chapters have been quite short and not up to par with my usual writing style. I was busy writing the END, crazy enough. I don't write everything in order you know! So there may be times where I don't write for a while, where I'm writing excellent work on certain parts of the story. Writers work in weird ways, let me be the firs to tell you. Don't worry, I have the entire plot planned out and I will not allow myself to fail. Soon I will have my laptop and progress will increase!
...
Dazed and confused, Aila followed the woman who had been shocked by her sudden arrival, through halls that were great and beautiful. Intricate carvings etched into wooden and marble beams that supported the building's also delicately carved ceiling.
"Rivendell," she whispered under her breath, gazing in awe about her as she registered each and every detail that was modeled into the walls of the city she had thought remained only in books. The Trilogy. Arwen walked in front of her and Aila had to admit that the books greatly underestimated her beauty. Her dark hair flowed behind her as her white arms swung lightly. As she walked, barely a sound was made. Only Aila's heavy footsteps echoed throughout the masonry.
Soon, Aila and her once-fictional guide reached a room that Aila had only dreamed of--until now. A solitary fire blazed in the center of the white marble room. Pillars rose in waves to the ceiling that was painstakingly carved to resemble everything imaginable and unimaginable. Colors were splattered across the expanse, but lightly and purposefully, intensifying the very curves themselves.
Aila gasped in wonder, as she looked about the amazing room. The Hall of Fire.
"This," Arwen interjected in the common tongue, "is the Hall of Fire. We come here to think and after feasts, to celebrate.
"I know," responded Aila without thinking, which caused Arwen to start in surprise, shooting curious glances at this strange girl who had fallen through her mirror.
"Come, my father is not far now." They passed through the Hall of Fire and continued their stroll until they come upon the House of Elrond. The great Lord was flanked on his left by an elf, obviously an military officer, by his dress. Arwen curtsied and Aila, quite sure she was not expected to salute, as she was trained in AFJROTC (A/N: Air Force Junior Reserve Officer Training Corps, I'm sure most know what that is), curtsied also.
"Dear Father, Lord of Rivendell, I bring you Aila Mannings, a woman who fell out my mirror from where I do not know. How, I'm not quite sure." Elrond's gaze fell upon Aila, locking her eyes into his. Knowing well enough not to break the locking of eyes, Aila addressed the Lord as best as she knew how from her training and from reading the Lord of the Rings.
"Sir, I do not know how I got here, but I know where I am now. I awoke in the middle of the night in my world, and fell on some moving boxes. Unfortunately, I fell in the direction of my mirror. I thought I would break it, m'Lord, but I fell through it, I suppose, and landed in Lady Arwen's room. I do not know how it happened, but I can only guess that my mirror is a portal into Middle Earth, sir."
"I see," for many moments, that was the Lord's only response. He sat, chin on fist, for a few moments, maintaining his gaze on her. After half a minute, he seemed finally satisfied by her story and continued to question her. Aila answered truthfully and as best as she saw fit.
After countless hours of question and answer, broken by bouts of thinking on Elrond and Aila's parts, Aila and Arwen were dismissed so that Arwen may show Aila the rest of Rivendell, which Aila surprisingly knew quite a bit about. Forgetting that she was meant to curtsy, and Arwen being past her peripheral vision, Aila stood swiftly to attention and saluted the Lord, military-style. Dropping her salute back to her side, she held her fists tightly to her side and executed an abrupt about-face and walked out calmly with Arwen, who stood wide-eyed for a moment, Elrond's eyebrows raised in amusement at her retreating back. Jealousy was apparent in the elven officer's face that this woman knew how to salute more cleanly than he could.
When they were out of Elrond's hearing range, Arwen broke out into melodious laughter that echoed through the hollow halls. Elves peeked around doorways that were situated randomly throughout the hallway at the sound of their Lady's voice. Many smiled and the faced retreated back into the enclosure of the room. Aila smiled, though she was unsure why.
"What is quite so funny, Lady Arwen?"
"Oh, I apologize, Lady Aila, but when you saluted my father like you were one of his officers, and then saluted him better than they can do, it was hilarious. You should have seen General Angarato!"
"General Angarato?"
"Yes, the head of our small military. When he salutes it is sloppy, but my father lets him off for it, because he is so wise in battle-knowledge. Ooh, you should have seen his face, Lady Aila!"
"Just call me Aila, if I may call you Arwen? Will you show me the rest of Rivendell?" Arwen's beautifully pale face lit up with a smile, exposing perfectly white teeth. Her pointed ears twiddled a little bit in her amusement, but she nodded and gestured for Aila to follow her to the paths of Rivendell.
The gardens of Rivendell were even more beautiful than she had ever imagined from the descriptions by JRR Tolkien. Vibrant colors cascaded from stone walls of wondrous masonry, the paths were lined with pinks, blues, yellows, greens, fading purples, reds, and humid oranges. Some flowers hugged tightly to the earth they held so dear, and others strived to reach the sun, sweating in its heat, but rejoicing in its rays.
The conversation between Arwen and Aila was light and carefree, after a half an hour of aimlessly strolling through the grounds of Rivendell, Arwen began to question Aila of her world.
"So how do you know of Rivendell?"
"Well, it's complicated really, I'd rather not talk about it at the moment, because I'm not sure it's smart." Arwen nodded in consent and Aila smacked a hand to her forehead as she explained. "My world! What am I doing? Surely I'll be missed! I'm sorry Arwen, I will visit again soon, but I must get back to my world. I have been here for hours and I'm positive it is morning there by now."
"Come, we will run." It was difficult for Aila to keep up with Arwen, being an elf and all, but Arwen consented by adjusting her pace to the loping run of Aila. With the aide of their long strides, the two women quickly found themselves in Arwen's room, facing the mirror, chests heaving in the exertion of their sprint.
"Good-bye, Arwen, perhaps I shall come again tomorrow? At about 11 o'clock my time?"
"That would be absolutely pleasant, mellonim." Aila raised an eyebrow, pleased that Arwen considered her friend in such a short amount of time. Arwen mistook her expression, thinking that she did not know Sindarin. "Mellonim means 'my friend.'" Aila was about to respond that she knew Sindarin fluently, but held her tongue, thinking of the advantage she might have if they did not know she knew their language.
"Good-bye, my friend," she smiled. Then she turned, and lifted her right leg to walk through the mirror. It was a strange sight, to see her right foot and leg disappear into the mirror, invisible on the other side. Quickly, she pushed the rest of her body through the mirror.
A/N: Okay, I do realize that the past two chapters have been quite short and not up to par with my usual writing style. I was busy writing the END, crazy enough. I don't write everything in order you know! So there may be times where I don't write for a while, where I'm writing excellent work on certain parts of the story. Writers work in weird ways, let me be the firs to tell you. Don't worry, I have the entire plot planned out and I will not allow myself to fail. Soon I will have my laptop and progress will increase!
...
Dazed and confused, Aila followed the woman who had been shocked by her sudden arrival, through halls that were great and beautiful. Intricate carvings etched into wooden and marble beams that supported the building's also delicately carved ceiling.
"Rivendell," she whispered under her breath, gazing in awe about her as she registered each and every detail that was modeled into the walls of the city she had thought remained only in books. The Trilogy. Arwen walked in front of her and Aila had to admit that the books greatly underestimated her beauty. Her dark hair flowed behind her as her white arms swung lightly. As she walked, barely a sound was made. Only Aila's heavy footsteps echoed throughout the masonry.
Soon, Aila and her once-fictional guide reached a room that Aila had only dreamed of--until now. A solitary fire blazed in the center of the white marble room. Pillars rose in waves to the ceiling that was painstakingly carved to resemble everything imaginable and unimaginable. Colors were splattered across the expanse, but lightly and purposefully, intensifying the very curves themselves.
Aila gasped in wonder, as she looked about the amazing room. The Hall of Fire.
"This," Arwen interjected in the common tongue, "is the Hall of Fire. We come here to think and after feasts, to celebrate.
"I know," responded Aila without thinking, which caused Arwen to start in surprise, shooting curious glances at this strange girl who had fallen through her mirror.
"Come, my father is not far now." They passed through the Hall of Fire and continued their stroll until they come upon the House of Elrond. The great Lord was flanked on his left by an elf, obviously an military officer, by his dress. Arwen curtsied and Aila, quite sure she was not expected to salute, as she was trained in AFJROTC (A/N: Air Force Junior Reserve Officer Training Corps, I'm sure most know what that is), curtsied also.
"Dear Father, Lord of Rivendell, I bring you Aila Mannings, a woman who fell out my mirror from where I do not know. How, I'm not quite sure." Elrond's gaze fell upon Aila, locking her eyes into his. Knowing well enough not to break the locking of eyes, Aila addressed the Lord as best as she knew how from her training and from reading the Lord of the Rings.
"Sir, I do not know how I got here, but I know where I am now. I awoke in the middle of the night in my world, and fell on some moving boxes. Unfortunately, I fell in the direction of my mirror. I thought I would break it, m'Lord, but I fell through it, I suppose, and landed in Lady Arwen's room. I do not know how it happened, but I can only guess that my mirror is a portal into Middle Earth, sir."
"I see," for many moments, that was the Lord's only response. He sat, chin on fist, for a few moments, maintaining his gaze on her. After half a minute, he seemed finally satisfied by her story and continued to question her. Aila answered truthfully and as best as she saw fit.
After countless hours of question and answer, broken by bouts of thinking on Elrond and Aila's parts, Aila and Arwen were dismissed so that Arwen may show Aila the rest of Rivendell, which Aila surprisingly knew quite a bit about. Forgetting that she was meant to curtsy, and Arwen being past her peripheral vision, Aila stood swiftly to attention and saluted the Lord, military-style. Dropping her salute back to her side, she held her fists tightly to her side and executed an abrupt about-face and walked out calmly with Arwen, who stood wide-eyed for a moment, Elrond's eyebrows raised in amusement at her retreating back. Jealousy was apparent in the elven officer's face that this woman knew how to salute more cleanly than he could.
When they were out of Elrond's hearing range, Arwen broke out into melodious laughter that echoed through the hollow halls. Elves peeked around doorways that were situated randomly throughout the hallway at the sound of their Lady's voice. Many smiled and the faced retreated back into the enclosure of the room. Aila smiled, though she was unsure why.
"What is quite so funny, Lady Arwen?"
"Oh, I apologize, Lady Aila, but when you saluted my father like you were one of his officers, and then saluted him better than they can do, it was hilarious. You should have seen General Angarato!"
"General Angarato?"
"Yes, the head of our small military. When he salutes it is sloppy, but my father lets him off for it, because he is so wise in battle-knowledge. Ooh, you should have seen his face, Lady Aila!"
"Just call me Aila, if I may call you Arwen? Will you show me the rest of Rivendell?" Arwen's beautifully pale face lit up with a smile, exposing perfectly white teeth. Her pointed ears twiddled a little bit in her amusement, but she nodded and gestured for Aila to follow her to the paths of Rivendell.
The gardens of Rivendell were even more beautiful than she had ever imagined from the descriptions by JRR Tolkien. Vibrant colors cascaded from stone walls of wondrous masonry, the paths were lined with pinks, blues, yellows, greens, fading purples, reds, and humid oranges. Some flowers hugged tightly to the earth they held so dear, and others strived to reach the sun, sweating in its heat, but rejoicing in its rays.
The conversation between Arwen and Aila was light and carefree, after a half an hour of aimlessly strolling through the grounds of Rivendell, Arwen began to question Aila of her world.
"So how do you know of Rivendell?"
"Well, it's complicated really, I'd rather not talk about it at the moment, because I'm not sure it's smart." Arwen nodded in consent and Aila smacked a hand to her forehead as she explained. "My world! What am I doing? Surely I'll be missed! I'm sorry Arwen, I will visit again soon, but I must get back to my world. I have been here for hours and I'm positive it is morning there by now."
"Come, we will run." It was difficult for Aila to keep up with Arwen, being an elf and all, but Arwen consented by adjusting her pace to the loping run of Aila. With the aide of their long strides, the two women quickly found themselves in Arwen's room, facing the mirror, chests heaving in the exertion of their sprint.
"Good-bye, Arwen, perhaps I shall come again tomorrow? At about 11 o'clock my time?"
"That would be absolutely pleasant, mellonim." Aila raised an eyebrow, pleased that Arwen considered her friend in such a short amount of time. Arwen mistook her expression, thinking that she did not know Sindarin. "Mellonim means 'my friend.'" Aila was about to respond that she knew Sindarin fluently, but held her tongue, thinking of the advantage she might have if they did not know she knew their language.
"Good-bye, my friend," she smiled. Then she turned, and lifted her right leg to walk through the mirror. It was a strange sight, to see her right foot and leg disappear into the mirror, invisible on the other side. Quickly, she pushed the rest of her body through the mirror.