Project Rivendell

Part Eight

Rhonda was drunk again. She staggered across the courtyard in Rivendell, on her way to see Will, who had asked to see her. He had realised that he could no longer ask the elves to help him hide artefacts, so he was planning to enlist Rhonda's help. He knew that once he mentioned money to her, she would comply. She was a spoiled rich girl, but all the money she had was her father's, which he had a tendency to withdraw if he felt she was misbehaving (which was often).

She had changed a little since being at Rivendell. She had managed to persuade one of the elven women to cut her hair, so that it was now its natural chestnut colour, though very short. However, that and the lack of make-up did give her a slightly fresher look. She looked younger than her twenty-two years, whereas before, all the chemicals she had used on her hair and face had given her a dried out look.

"Lady Rhonda?" It was Anondir, calling to Rhonda from the shadows.

"Well if it isn't my lovely Anondir," Rhonda slurred.

"I wished to speak with you, My Lady, to ask your forgiveness for dishonouring you with Isaldur and Legolas."

"Okay, you're forgiven." Said Rhonda, not really caring. She had been called worse by men. "Now, what's a nice elf like you doing out alone on a night like this? Do you fancy coming up to my room with me for a drinky poos?"

"Why do you do this?" asked Anondir, falling into step beside her. "Why you give your body so easily?"

"Because it's mine to give. Where I come from, we sleep with who we want."

"Is there no love in your time?" asked Anondir, trying to understand her.

"I suppose so, though no one's going to love me. Men only ever want to shag me."

Anondir had just about picked up the meaning of the word 'shag'.

"Perhaps if you waited, and earned their love before giving them your body," suggested Anondir.

"Oh yeah, like that's gonna work. Let me tell you about Gwyneth, my boss. She's as frigid as they come. She's hardly ever had any boyfriends, because she won't sleep with them on the first date. Now she's getting really old, she's thirty-five you know," That did not sound old to Anondir, but he did not say so. Rhonda continued, "and she's going to spend the rest of her life alone. I don't want that. One day I'll find someone who loves me enough to stick around." As she spoke, Rhonda's voice became sad. "And I won't end up like my mother, being dumped at the age of forty-five for a new model. That's what my dad did. Dropped her for another woman. My mum did everything for him. She helped him to make his money. Now she's living in a poky studio flat in London, because he could afford better lawyers than her, because of the money she helped him to earn, but she was left with hardly anything. Now I use men, they don't use me." She angrily brushed a tear that had rolled down her cheek.

"I see," said Anondir, understanding at last. "So now you punish all men for your father's mistake, do you not?"

Rhonda laughed humourlessly.

"Get you, Oprah Winfrey. Aren't you the master of the cod-psychology?"

"Lady Rhonda," said Anondir, "I should very much like to get to know you better. To become your friend."

"Now that's more like it." Said Rhonda. "Come to my room then."

"No, you do not understand. I very much enjoyed lying with you, but I do not want to lie with you again … not until we are sure we wish to bind ourselves to each other."

"That sounds kinky," laughed Rhonda.

"I am not sure what your people call it. The men in Middle Earth call it betrothal."

"Engaged!" squealed Rhonda, incredulously. "You want to get engaged?!"

"Not yet," Anondir sounded flustered. "If we like each other, after we have spent time talking, then perhaps, yes, I should like to bind myself to you. I am sorry that you are so unhappy in your life, and I would like to make you happy. No elf has ever left his wife for another woman. It is unheard of among my people. But that is why we have to be certain."

"Well, let's go and have a drink and talk about it," suggested Rhonda.

"No, please, do not drink. I want to speak to you, not the person you are when you have drunk too much wine. Do you agree?"

The idea sounded novel to Rhonda, though she was not entirely sure she actually wanted to marry Anondir, but it was unusual for any man (or elf) to want to see her again once they'd had sex with her. She nodded tentatively.

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Gwyneth and the hobbits had been on the road for what seemed like months, though was actually only a few weeks. They had reached the Isen River, and were contemplating whether to head inland to Rohan and seek sustenance, or whether to cross the River and head straight for Gondor. They were camped by the river, while they give the matter some thought, when Frodo suddenly heard shouting coming from the river.

"Hallo! Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin and someone we do not know… a very fair someone if I may say so." It was Gimli, and he was in one small boat, with Legolas following behind in a slightly larger boat.

"What brings you down the Isen?" asked Frodo, running to the edge of the bank.

"There is trouble in Gondor. Elrond was called away, and would not say why. He left with Gandalf and his sons, and the ranger, Connell, but we learned the truth. The orcs have regrouped…"

"Yes! Yes, that is where we're going!" the hobbits all cried together.

"But why do you sail down the Isen?" asked Frodo.

"We were afraid that Elrond would see us following him. He is such a good tracker, that he also knows when he is being tracked. We decided upon a different route," Legolas explained. "Now, you must all come with us in the boats. We will reach Gondor much quicker than on the land."

"And please introduce us to your lovely friend." Said Gimli, blushing a little as Gwyneth smiled at him.

"This is Gwyneth, and she knows songs about rivers." Pippin told him. It was all they needed to know to understand that Gwyneth was a friend.

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Elrond and the others who set out from Rivendell had reached Gondor at last. They were visiting with Aragorn in his private chambers, not yet wishing to alert all the people of Gondor to the threat from Mordor.

The visitors had been in Gondor a couple of weeks, but had spent much of that time recuperating from their journey and renewing old acquaintances. They sat around a large table, which was filled with food that none had felt like eating.

"Can we get an army together?" asked Gandalf. He already knew the answer.

"It will be difficult. We lost many lives in the war of the ring," said Aragorn. He looked to his lovely wife Arwen, who's eyes shone with compassion for those lost.

"There are a thousand, maybe two thousand orcs," Connell told them. His appearance had altered since Gandalf had met him in the Prancing Pony. He was washed, shaved, and had dressed in finer clothes, though not quite as fine as those worn by Aragorn and his Queen. "We have beaten more enemies with less allies in the past."

"It is sad that we have to go back into battle." The huskily feminine voice that spoke was that of a relative newcomer to the council of friends. Her name was Amebrindra, and she was the woman that Connell loved. Amebrindra was the daughter of a half-elven mother, and human father, so she was more human than elven, though she still had some elven powers, along with their longevity, though she was mortal. Though nearing sixty years of age, she was still very beautiful, with a smooth face that barely showed the years, and long auburn hair, with not a trace of grey. "I have grave misgivings about this particular battle, for there will be a battle." She looked at Connell.

"She is safe." Connell muttered, mysteriously, and low enough so that no one else heard.

"I wonder…" Gandalf began to say, but Elrond raised a hand to stop him.

"I know what you are going to say, Gandalf the White, and I think the answer has to be no. While I agree that the Fellowship held a power that was beyond all our reasoning, we cannot ask anymore of those who have already given so much."

"Too late…" a small voice said from the open doorway. "We're here anyway." It was Merry.

The people assembled around the table looked towards the door to see four hobbits, an elf, and a dwarf bursting through it, followed by someone else. Most of the people around the table did not know her, but Connell stood up, and exclaimed:

"Gwyneth!"

Amebrindra gasped, and said 'no' almost inaudibly.

Gwyneth, who had not quite got her bearings, having been escorted through the many corridors of Gondor, was at that moment transfixed by the handsome elf sitting nearest to the door. Elrond turned, and took a deep, sharp breath.

Then, on hearing her name spoken by a familiar voice, Gwyneth almost collapsed in shock, but managed to steady herself. She moved towards Connell slowly, unable to believe her eyes.

"Dad…" she whispered. "Dad?"

Gwyneth ran into her father's arms, sobbing.