Revised 2/21/04
See part 1 for disclaimers and such.
Chapter 10The fuzzy black and orange caterpillar was crawling across the back of her neck, its tiny sticky feet tickling her skin, and she reached up to brush it off.
"Erin, wake up," the caterpillar said, its voice sounding suspiciously like Rúmil's. She opened one eye and looked at his face, before burying herself deeper into the quilts.
He chuckled, tickling the back of her neck again. "Elladan and Elrohir will be leaving today, sleepy one. You must get up."
"No." She pulled the quilt over her head.
Rúmil pulled at the quilt, laughing as she struggled to keep her grip on the end of it. "If you do not get up, I will send Elladan and Elrohir to get you out of bed. You would not enjoy their methods as much as mine."
"Fine," she groused, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. "It's not fair that you're so cheerful." She tried to glare but failed miserably as he laughed at her.
"Hurry. There is still time for you to eat breakfast with the others." He gave her a quick grin before stepping out of her room, closing the door behind him so she could dress.
Erin slid from under the quilts, covering her yawn with her hand. She reached for her clothes, sighing as she realized she had forgotten to ask Galadriel about washing them. To her great surprise and delight, she discovered her soiled clothing had been washed and left neatly folded beside her pack.
She finished dressing and glanced down at the tunic she had chosen with a smile; it was one of the ones Éowyn had given her, and it had small flowers and horses neatly stitched across the cuffs. Her leggings and boots followed, and she ran a comb through the tangles of her hair, wincing as she encountered a particularly nasty snarl.
She laid the dress she had worn the night before over the arm of the chair, her fingers brushing against the silky material for a moment, before she turned, closing her pack and lifting it to her shoulders. The dress was beautiful, but impractical, and she doubted she would have the opportunity to wear it again any time soon. Besides, she thought ruefully, the material looks like it would wrinkle something terrible.
Erin shouldered her pack and opened her door, surprised to see Rúmil waiting for her.
"Haldir said you do not know your way around yet, so I am here to make certain you do not get lost or 'fall out of the tree', as he put it," he told her with a grin.
She laughed, and gratefully allowed him to lead her to breakfast.
There was a decided lack of pancakes, bacon, or coffee in the impressive larder before her, but Erin found she didn't miss those things as much as she used to, although the coffee was debatable. She stifled her frown of dismay when she realized it had almost been a month since she'd had a double shot skinny white chocolate mocha, and she wondered if Middle Earth had anything resembling a coffee bean.
I can't believe its been almost a month, she thought, biting into the soft and fluffy roll that had been sweetened with dried fruit and drizzled in honey. When will I get home?
Elladan and Elrohir sat across from her, talking quietly with each other, their handsome faces serious as they discussed something in their musical language. Elrohir looked up as Melaphríl joined them, the fair-haired elf sliding into his seat next to Elrohir and giving him a warm smile.
Erin kept her mouth from opening in shock when Elrohir leaned over and kissed Melaphríl warmly on the cheek, before turning back to his brother. It had been a simple gesture of affection, but something about the way that Melaphríl leaned into the kiss made her wonder if the two were more than friends. She realized she was staring when Melaphríl's green eyes met hers and she dropped her gaze, her cheeks flushing slightly in embarrassment.
She felt someone slide into the seat next to her and turned, smiling when she saw Orophin's friendly face.
"Good morning," he greeted her. "How fare you this day?"
"Good," she replied, giving him a smile. "How about yourself."
He smiled, reaching for a roll. "Well enough, meldis. You are leaving today?"
She nodded and sighed. "Yes, I guess I am."
Orophin nudged her leg gently with his. "I am sorry to see you go," he said. "It has been a unique experience to know you."
Erin had to chuckle. "I hope you mean that in a good way."
He nodded, grinning as he reached for his cup of juice. "Of course."
"Erin, if you are finished eating?" Haldir's voice came from behind her and she turned. "The Lady has asked me to help prepare you for your journey." He was dressed once more in the gray of the wardens, his quiver and bow strapped to his back.
She rose from her seat, grabbing her pack and slinging it across her shoulders, falling in step beside Haldir as they left the dining hall.
"How soon are we leaving?" she asked the silent and handsome elf who walked beside her, glancing up at his profile.
"Within the hour. The Grey Company waits for their return just inside the borders of the wood," he answered, taking a right turn on the wooden pathway.
"Will we be leaving immediately from there, do you think?" she asked, nearly running to keep up with his much longer strides.
He shrugged eloquently. "That is for Halbarad to decide." They stopped at a door with a carving of a sword and a bow etched deeply into its surface, and Haldir opened it, ushering her inside.
Erin looked around in interest, dropping her pack to her feet. It was obviously an armory, for she could see countless bows and swords, arrows and quivers, neatly stacked against the walls or on tables, some hanging from beautifully carved holders on the wooden walls. Haldir brushed by her as he searched the room, picking up several short swords and knives, testing their weight carefully in his hands. He picked up a long, ivory handled knife, its blade nearly as long as Erin's forearm and balanced it on his fingers, eyeing it carefully. With a nod, he turned and presented it hilt first to her.
"What is this?" she asked, taking the knife gingerly from him.
"A knife," he said dryly, his lips curving into a brief smile.
She cocked an eyebrow at him. "I know it's a knife. I mean, is this for me?"
He nodded. "The Lady has given Elladan and Elrohir instructions that they are to teach you how to use it. You should not be defenseless against the dangers ahead. I can only agree." He moved to her side and well away from the sharp point of the knife she held uncertainly. "Grip it, feel the weight of it. It should rest comfortably and feel balanced in your hand."
Erin curled her fingers around the smooth hilt, trying to accept the feel of the weapon in her hand. It felt foreign, and she had no idea if she was holding it correctly. Lean fingers covered hers for a moment as he adjusted her grip, positioning her thumb and locking it against her fingers.
He nodded and stepped back. "Try it," he said. "See how it feels."
She had no idea how to do what he said, but made an experimental thrusting movement with it, and was surprised at how light the blade was. She tried again, changing the angle of her strike against an invisible foe, and the blade gleamed brightly for a moment as the sunlight from the window struck the metal.
"I don't know if I could actually use this," she said, bringing her arm down carefully as she glanced at him.
He raised both eyebrows at her. "You had better learn, lady," he said, not unkindly. "For your own safety, as well as the safety of others."
Erin shook her head, raising the blade to eye level. "I've never done anything violent in my life, Haldir. Until Helm's Deep, I had never seen a dead person, much less someone who has died by violent means."
Haldir dropped a hand to her shoulder and turned her slightly to look at him. "You will learn," he said softly. "You do not have to like it, Erin, but you must learn. You cannot count on someone always being there to protect you."
She swallowed and gave him a brief nod. "All right," she said. "I know you're right."
He regarded her a moment longer, before turning away, reaching for the knife's sheathe. He handed it to her and watched her slide the knife into the supple leather, noting the relived expression on her face when the knife was safely sheathed. She went to put it in her pack and he stopped her with a shake of his head.
"No, you must wear it. A weapon does you no good if it is not within easy reach." He took the knife from her and showed her the straps on the back of the sheath that would allow her to attach it to a belt.
"I don't have a belt," she said, pulling her tunic up slightly to expose the waistline of her leggings. She turned to her pack, squatting down to rummage through it, pushing her neatly folded clothing aside to search the bottom. "Maybe Éowyn sent one with the clothing she gave me. I never looked. Oh!" she exclaimed, pulling the thin length of leather from the bottom of her pack. She held it up with a brief grin, before rising once more.
Within moments, the knife hung at her side, its length pressing against her hip as she walked beside Haldir towards the stairs that led to the forest floor. It felt strange, the light weight of the weapon brushing against her leg as she walked, and she wondered if she would ever get used to it.
The others were waiting for them once they reached the bottom of the stairs, including Galadriel and Celeborn. The Lord and Lady greeted her as she came to a halt beside the twins.
"Farewell, Erin, strange traveler," Galadriel's soft velvety voice broke the silence first as she gave the young woman a small but warm smile. "I wish you safe journey." She turned and gestured gracefully, and Lindel stepped forward, a small gray cloak in her arms. The she-elf offered the cloak to Erin, and helped her fasten the green, leaf-shaped pin at her neck. "This cloak may help to keep you safe from dangerous eyes."
Erin fingered the soft gray material, before smiling her gratitude at the Lady.
"Hannon lle," she said, bowing slightly as she had seen the other elves do, touching her right hand over her heart. "Thank you, Lady, for all your help and guidance."
Galadriel's soft laugh was like silvery chimes. "You are most welcome, Erin. Remember what I have told you."
Celeborn added his farewells to his wife's, smiling gently at the young woman. "I only wish there had been time to ask you more about your world," he said regretfully. "I would have enjoyed hearing about it very much."
They moved swiftly through the trees, the two humans struggling to keep pace with the fleeter elves as they passed beneath the green and golden leaves, though the man did not have as much difficulty as the woman as he was more used to traveling than she. Erin nearly stumbled over an exposed tree root, but was caught before she went sprawling by Melaphríl's quick reflexes. He gave her a quick grin once she recovered, and released his grip on her arm, sprinting easily ahead to catch up with Elrohir and his brother. She watched him run, envying the easy way he moved, wishing she had at least half his grace and speed.
If I'd known I'd be spending so much time running, I would have taken track in high school instead of swimming, Erin groused inwardly. Melaphríl wasn't even winded, and she was gasping for breath like a fish out of water.
Fortunately, the group came to a halt shortly thereafter, and Erin dropped to her knees gratefully, her side aching painfully as she drew great and heaving breaths into her oxygen starved lungs. A pair of black leather boots appeared at her knees and Erin raised her head, hearing her heart pounding against her chest.
Elladan looked down at her expressionlessly for a moment, before offering his hand to help her to her feet. "Halbarad says we will remain one more night here in the sanctuary of Lórien," he said, pulling her upright with ease. "So there is time for your first lesson with that," he pointed to the knife at her side.
"Can I catch my breath first?" she asked, and he laughed.
"Of course." He gestured for her to follow him to where the main encampment was, and she fell in step beside him, her breathing slowing gradually to something more like normal for her. He gave her an amused look. "You will be relieved, no doubt, to know that the rest of our journey will be on horseback."
"If it's without saddles, then that's debatable," Erin retorted, sliding her pack from her shoulders and dropping it to the ground with a sigh. She looked at the party of elves and men with interest, and estimated that there were at least 40 of them in the group, the majority of them human. They were dressed in similar fashion to Halbarad, and they looked dangerous.
"Who are they?" she asked, glancing up at the dark-haired elf.
"The men are the Dúnedain, rangers from the North," he replied, looking down at her with a brief smile. "My brother and I have had many journeys with them before. The elves are our brethren from the forest of Mirkwood." He looked at her appraisingly and his smile widened. "Have you 'caught' your breath?"
"Yes," she replied uneasily, wondering exactly what was in store for her.
"Good. Then it is time for your first lesson."
Erin blew her hair out of her face, blinking as she felt her eyes sting briefly from the sweat that dripped into them, but kept her gaze on her opponent, turning to keep him in her line of vision as he circled her, his lean body tensed and coiled like a spring. In her hand she clenched a stick that represented her knife. Wisely, neither Elladan nor Elrohir felt she was ready to practice with the actual blade. After nearly an hour of the exercise, she could only agree. She was dimly aware of the others who had gathered to watch; Haldir, Melaphríl, Halbarad, and several others she did not know, stood well away from the glade where the twins had begun her instruction.
"Keep your guard up," Elladan called, watching his brother as he moved around the woman, mentally shaking his head with an inward sigh. The woman was tiring, he could tell, and he saw, despite his warning, she had dropped her guard.
Erin felt Elrohir hit her like sack of wet cement, knocking her stick from her hand and pinning her easily to the ground, the force of the impact knocking the breath out of her. His face was inches from hers.
"You dropped your guard again," he told her, holding her easily with his strength. "Think, lady. If I were truly your enemy, you would be dead by now, or worse."
She struggled against his hold, angered by the easy way in which he held her pinned and glared up at him. "I know that," she said through clenched teeth. "I'm trying."
He pulled her wrists together and held them both in the strong grip of one hand, stretching her arms painfully over her head as he gave her a mock-leer. "You are not trying hard enough," he answered sharply. "I could do anything to you right now and you would be helpless to stop me."
Erin blinked away the angry and frustrated tears that threatened to blur her vision and stared at the dark-haired elf above her. He pressed his lips against her neck and slid his other hand over her body with familiarity that made her gasp in outrage. Without thinking she arched her neck, hitting him squarely in the head with her own, the impact making her see stars.
Elrohir released her abruptly, sitting back on his heels, his hand covering the spot on his head where her skull had bruised his. "Very good," he said, wincing and rubbing the spot. "Inventive." He inhaled sharply when he felt her stick poke the tender skin just above his tunic and met her glare.
"Don't you ever touch me like that again, Elrohir," she said, her breath coming in harsh gasps, pressing the stick a little more forcefully against his neck. "I mean it."
He raised his hands slowly and pushed the stick away from his neck. "I give you my word, lady. I apologize for taking liberties, however it had the intended affect."
Her eyes narrowed as he rose to his feet. "Yeah it did. You pissed me off." She refused his offered hand and scrambled ungracefully to her feet, her chest heaving in her ire.
Elrohir's lips twitched briefly and he inclined his head slightly. "Good." He turned on his heel and left her, gaping at his retreating back. Feeling weary down to her toes, she sighed, wiping the sweat from her face with a grimace.
"If it makes you feel any better," an amused voice came from behind her and she jumped, biting back the irritated curse as she gave Elladan a glare for startling her. "Glorfindel did the same thing to Elrohir when he had him pinned, only Glorfindel was not nearly as...polite about it."
Erin stared at him a moment, then began to laugh. "I didn't need that image, thanks," she said, when her laughter tapered off. She turned to see Melaphríl drop a companionable arm across Elrohir's shoulders, and saw the dark-haired elf embrace him lightly in return. "If it had been anyone else," she said, turning to look back at Elladan. "I would have said he took advantage of the situation to feel me up."
Elladan chuckled, taking the stick from her and twirling it idly in his fingers. He gave her a brief grin before he turned, pausing to look over his shoulder. "I would not say that he did not," he said softly, before continuing towards the main encampment.
She followed his progress briefly, shaking her head and wincing at the painful throb in her skull from where it had met the unyielding surface of Elrohir's. It was going to be a long trip to Edoras. She just knew it.
"Will you tell us another story, Erin? Something a little happier this time, perhaps?" Haldir asked from his place beside her, giving her one of his brief smiles.
The rangers who were sitting close to them looked up in interest, their pipes and weapons maintenance forgotten as they waited for her reply, and Erin saw several of the elves from Mirkwood draw closer, settling their lithe forms with grace on the ground. She swallowed and smiled nervously at her sudden audience.
"All right," she said and took a deep breath. "Once upon a time," she began, "A long time ago, in a land that was green and beautiful, there was a king who had three sons. The oldest was named Blaewydd, and he was brave and strong, and no one could match his skill with the sword. The middle son was named Fíonn, and he was every bit as brave as Blaewydd, and none could match his skill in archery. The youngest son was named Corwyn, and while he had neither the strength nor skill of his brothers with weapons, he was remarkably clever." She heard one of the Mirkwood elves translating for his companions, his soft words echoing her own in the beautiful language.
It was a tale her mother had told her countless times, and it was one of her favorites as a child. She hid her smile as she watched the rapt attention on the faces of her audience, pulling them into the tale of the three brothers and how they faced the dangers that beset them at every turn. The fire had died down considerably when she finished, and she saw the faces of her listeners awaken slowly, as if from a dream.
"But that cannot be the way the tale ends," Elrohir protested. "What happened to Corwyn? Did he find his true love? Did Blaewydd become king?"
"Do not forget about Fíonn," Elladan added, nudging his brother playfully with his elbow. "Did he return from his quest to find the magic bow?"
Erin laughed. "The story doesn't end there, but it's all I can tell tonight." She reached for her water skin and took a sip, easing her dry throat. "It would take several weeks to tell you all of their adventures."
"The elves of your story are quite different from us, yet in some ways, they are the same," Haldir commented, rising from his seat on a fallen log and stretching his lean frame. "Thank you for the tale, lady. The hour grows late, and you should get some rest."
"Aye," Elladan said. "We leave at dawn tomorrow."
Dawn came disgustingly early, Erin thought as she zipped her pack closed. She lifted it to her shoulders, sliding her arms through the straps and adjusting its weight slightly.
Melaphríl passed her and handed her a familiar leaf wrapped package and she inwardly groaned as she unwrapped it. More Lembas. The stuff was tasty, but a steady diet of it became old very quickly. She quickly took a bite, washing the dry, flaky bread down with a sip of her water, before carefully rewrapping the remainder with the leaf, tucking it into one of the many side pockets of her pack.
"Are you ready?" the green-eyed elf asked her and she nodded. "Come," he said, gesturing for her to follow him. "Elladan has said you will ride with him."
Erin frowned, jogging to catch up with the tall elf. "I don't get my own horse?" she asked.
He shook his head, his silver blonde hair sliding forward with the movement, and he tucked it behind his ear with a gesture that spoke of familiarity. "We have none to spare at the moment." He flashed her a quick grin. "Halbarad did not expect to return with more than Elrohir. You will not be the only one riding pillion today," he added. "For I would not be left behind either."
Elladan nodded a polite greeting to her when they reached him, standing next to a tall and leggy looking bay horse. She saw, to her great dismay, that the horse wore no saddle.
He eyed her carefully for a moment. "Where is your knife, Erin?" he asked, his dark eyebrows rising slightly.
"In my pack," she replied, feeling like an idiot. She slid the pack from her shoulders and fished it out, along with her belt and fastened it at her waist. Zipping her pack closed, she went to lift it to her back once more, only to have it taken by Elladan.
"You cannot ride in front of me with that on your back," he said, motioning to Emed, who took it from him. "Emed will carry it for you for now."
"I could ride behind you," Erin suggested, not certain she liked the idea of being separated from her only belongings in this world besides the clothes on her back.
Elladan shook his head. "Elrohir tells me you do not have much in the way of horsemanship. Until I am certain you can ride without falling off, you ride in front."
He's as bossy as Aragorn, Erin thought, her chin lifting slightly. "Fine," she said, watching Emed bear her pack away. She placed her foot into his laced fingers and gripped the horse's mane, pulling herself onto the bay's broad back with his help. To her relief, the horse did not seem to have nearly as bony a spine as Mírhrod, and she settled herself over his withers the way Haldir had instructed her what seemed like ages ago.
Elladan gave her and approving nod and mounted fluidly behind her, his arm wrapping securely about her waist.
"Perhaps there is some hope for you yet," he teased, turning the horse towards where Halbarad waited, Elrohir and Melaphríl sharing a horse next to him. She noticed, for the first time, that neither their horse nor Elrohir's wore bridles. It made her more than a little nervous, and she gripped the horse's mane tightly with both hands.
She didn't hear Halbarad give any sort of command, but suddenly the entire company was on the move, their horses thundering over the grassy plain as they rode south towards the plains of Isen. The scenery flashed by them in a blur, and she forced herself to focus on staying balanced on the galloping horse, her fingers cramping from clutching at its mane.
"Relax," Elladan's voice came at her ear, tickling her with his breath. "I would not let you fall. If you remain this tense, you will be painfully sore when we stop this evening."
She gritted her teeth, willing her body to relax as he told her, and found the task impossible. What she needed was some type of distraction. "What is this horse's name?" she asked, raising her voice slightly over the thunder of the horses' hooves.
"Thalion," Elrohir replied. "It means 'Dauntless'."
"How long will it take us to get to Edoras?" she asked, closing her eyes as Thalion leapt over a small bush and lurching forward with the movement, grateful that the elf was hanging onto her.
"It will take us at least six days to reach the plains of Isen, and at least another two to reach Edoras," Elladan replied, settling her more firmly against him. The tension was gradually fading from her as she adjusted to the rhythm of the galloping horse, and her fingers were no longer knotted so tightly in Thalion's dark mane.
Erin fell silent for a moment, aware of his warm presence behind her as his body moved against hers with the rocking motion of the horse. It was pleasant, but not nearly as distracting as riding with Rúmil and Orophin had been at first, and she was actually relieved. She missed the brothers, their laughter and easy smiles, and felt a knot form in the back of her throat.
They rode all day, and Erin felt the insides of her knees and thighs begin to chafe painfully by the time they called a halt, stopping near a winding and swift flowing river just as the sun began its descent into the west.
Elladan dismounted easily and reached up to help her down, noting her wince of pain as he set her to her feet.
"Are you well?" he asked as she pulled the fabric of her leggings gingerly away from her skin.
"Just sore. We didn't ride as hard when we left Helm's Deep." She looked up and gave him a pained smile. "I'll be fine."
Elrohir and Melaphríl joined them as Emed arrived to lead Thalion away with the other horses, dropping Erin's pack at her feet with a brief smile.
"Thank you, Emed," she gave the young man a smile in return, startled to see how young he really was beneath the dirt and grime on his face. He looked like he was maybe only sixteen or seventeen years old - certainly not old enough in her mind to be riding with a party of battle seasoned men and elves.
He touched his hand to his forehead and led Thalion off, slinging his arm across the tall bay's withers as he walked beside the animal.
She glanced at Elladan. "He doesn't look old enough to be here," she said quietly. "Though I suppose the rules of age don't necessarily apply the same as they do in my world."
The dark-haired elf nodded. "His father is one of the Dúnedain. He lost his mother when he was very young, so Eras took care of him, and trained him to fight along side of him. Do not let his youth fool you; Emed has seen his fair share of skirmishes with Orcs and Wildmen alike."
Erin shook her head. "He would still be in school in my world."
"School?" Elrohir said, tugging on his brother's braid lightly. "Only the well-born would still be in school at his age."
Elladan pulled his braid from his twin's hands with a mock frown. "Come, we need to settle the watches for the night." He turned to Erin. "Go find a place to stow your things, but make sure you are not too far from the others. Then come and find either Elrohir or myself. We have just enough time for a lesson before it is too dark."
In the four days she had ridden with Elladan, she had gotten to know the dark-haired elf much better, and her initial impression of him had improved somewhat. He was still bossy, but he no longer treated her as if she were an unwanted burden. She hoped that her progress with both her riding and knife wielding had something to do with it. While she wasn't anywhere near proficient in either skill, she no longer clutched the horse every time he twitched or jolted her, and she had actually managed to avoid Elrohir's attack the last time she had worked with the twins.
She glanced at Elrohir, who was riding beside them, laughing at something Melaphríl was telling him, and shook her head. True to his word, he had not taken advantage of the opportunity to molest her whenever he managed to pin her, which was frequently. Against her will, she had to admit that his actions had served to bring home the reality of her situation more than anything else. And both he and his brother had been incredibly patient with their teachings, and generous with their praise when she did something right. She smiled when she remembered the look of surprise on Elrohir's face when she finally managed to successfully evade his attack.
"Well done," Elladan had said with a laugh. "Much better. Elrohir will not make the mistake of being so slow with you again."
"Slow?" she had replied, shaking her head. Both the twins moved faster than anyone she had ever seen. "I think I just got lucky."
Elrohir had nodded. "You would not stand much chance against an elf who was truly trying to defeat you, but against a man, you might do well enough. I admit I was trying to hold back a little, to give you a chance."
"Well, don't hold back next time," she had said seriously. "I can't learn to do this if you hold back." Her chin had lifted slightly.
Elrohir had laughed. "Tomorrow night, Erin, I will test your words."
Erin sighed, and felt Elladan stiffen behind her.
"What is it?" she asked, feeling him turn to look at something to the west.
He shrugged, his eyes narrowing slightly as he spotted a strange cloud of dust on the horizon. "Wait a moment," he told her, guiding their horse closer to Halbarad and Elrohir. "Look there, gwannig nín," he said, pointing. "What do you see?"
"Something comes this way," Elrohir said shading his eyes with his hand and frowning. "'Tis to far away to make out whether it is friend or foe."
"I see it as well," Melaphríl added from behind Elrohir.
Halbarad cursed softly under his breath, looking in the direction the elves were gazing, finally seeing the rising cloud of dust. "How far are they?" he asked.
"An hour, no more," Elrohir replied, glancing at Elladan. "Would you not agree?"
His twin nodded. "They are moving fast."
The captain of the Dúnedain glanced ahead of them, and saw nothing but an empty stretch of plain with no possible place for refuge in sight. "Then let us hope they are friendly," he said finally.
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