Project Rivendell Part Two

(A/N: I owe the information that elves wear nothing under their robes to Liv Tyler, who mentioned it in an interview once.)

Gwyneth was dreaming about her father again. He was sitting on the edge of her bed, telling her tales of Rivendell and the elves who lived there. He always spoke as if he had inside knowledge of these magical people, about their customs and their language. There were others in his stories; hobbits, orcs and kings. There was some great battle, over a magical ring, that her father spoke about as though he had seen it first hand.

Then she was sitting in a church, listening to a priest talk over her father's coffin, about what a brave soldier he was, having fought in many conflicts. Gwyneth felt the tears well in her eyes, and a tight lump constrict her throat. Much good his bravery did her, now that she was left alone. Her mother had died giving birth to her, so her childhood had been spent moving from one country to another, as her father was posted according to whatever troubles were happening in the world at the time.

Colonel James Hadley's final conflict had taken place in the first Gulf War, when he and several of his men had been gone missing in action.

Gwyneth didn't want to think of that. It made her cry to think of all she had lost. She tried to take her dream back to the stories about the elves and hobbits. Not the orcs though. She was aware that they were evil creatures. Better to think of nice things. She was drowsily aware of lying on a nice soft, but very short, bed. She had to curl her knees to keep her feet from hanging over the end.

"Is she awake yet Sam?"

Gwyneth twitched her nose in her sleep. No, she wasn't awake and she didn't want to be, thank you very much.

"Not yet, Frodo. She's a strange looking woman though, isn't she?"

She wished that whoever was speaking would be quiet. And how dare he call her strange?!

"How can you say that, after all that we've seen?"

"I don't know. She just looks odd. Her clothes and that. Women don't wear trousers. She's not an elf, that's for sure. She isn't tall enough, but she don't look like no human woman I've ever seen either. Not that I've seen many close up, apart from Lady Eowyn."

"We'll contact Gandalf and see if he can solve the mystery. Hush now Sam and let her sleep. "

Yes, hush now Sam, thought Gwyneth. Let me sleep...

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As Gwyneth was trying to sleep, Will was waking up. He too was lying on a soft bed, only this one was more than long enough for his six foot frame. He opened his eyes and saw a tall, regal figure standing at the foot of the bed.

"Welcome, sir, to the house of Elrond."

"Is that some supermarket in Wales?" Will asked, still dazed and confused.

"We have no idea what a supermarket or Wales is," said the man watching him, a quizzical look in his large blue eyes. He was rather stern in appearance, though not unkind, and dressed in fine robes, with long dark hair that was tied back and encircled by a small silver crown. He was Lord Elrond. "You are in the house of Elrond." He repeated. "Your wife, Lady Rhonda, is safe and well." There was something hopeful about the way Elrond said 'wife'.

"My wife? She isn't my wife." Will tried to sit up. He was surprised to see that his own clothes had been taken and he was dressed in a fine, gossamer robe. He also became acutely aware that he was naked beneath the robe.

"She is not? Oh, I thought...never mind." Said Elrond.

"What about Gwyneth?"

"Gwyneth?"

"She fell into the hole first. I take it we're in Wonderland," said Will, catching on quickly that he most certainly was not in Wales anymore.

"Wonderland? No, you are in Rivendell."

"No shit!" said Will. He must be dreaming. That's all that could account for this. He stumbled out of bed as elegantly as possible. Walking in a robe was not as easy as he thought. He tripped over it twice on his way to the window. Not that there were any windows in this building. Everything was made of wood, the walls, the floors, the furniture, and the openings at the side of the buildings were just that. Openings. Outside, Rivendell appeared to be in the grip of autumn. Leaves were falling from the trees, and there seemed to be no one around to sweep them up.

"Where is everyone?" asked Will.

"Most of my people have left for the undying land." Elrond informed him. "My daughter lives in Gondor with her husband, King Aragorn, and their child. My grandson." There was a hint of pride in Elrond's voice.

"You don't look old enough to have a grandson." Will meant it. Elrond looked no older than about forty years old, though when Will looked more closely at him, he did have a timeless air to his features as though he may have lived for many years longer.

Elrond didn't answer. He realised that this young man would probably not believe him. Wherever he and his companion had fallen from (they had been found in the river on Rivendell's borders), they were clearly not of Middle Earth.

"We need to find Gwyneth." Said Will. "She was hit by lightening. I think we all were."

"I see." Elrond nodded. Such things were not unknown to him. "I will send one of my scouts to see if she has arrived anywhere else in Middle Earth."

"Middle Earth? You mean Tolkein and all that shit?" Will shook his head. "Hang on, did you say we were in Rivendell? That's what we were looking for, when we were digging. We're archaeologists."

"I see." Elrond said again. "So, you are from the future?"

Will was surprised at this man's propensity to take astounding facts so calmly. Then he looked at Elrond more closely and saw his ears. They were pointed.

"Okay, so we're not in Rivendell, we're on Vulcan right?" asked Will, convinced now that he was dreaming after all. "Beam me up Scotty and all that..."