Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Well, everyone… this is an updated version of chapter 2, so I hope everyone likes the changes.

And now I will shut up and let everyone read.

See ya!

- Lady Healer.

Chapter two: Rivendell and Elvish Lords.

The elven lord of Imladris looked out of from the balcony to the gardens below as he pondered recent events. Two beings had arrived in his home, both wounded.

The first was a young hobbit who had been stabbed with a morgul blade. His name was Frodo Baggins; and the halfling was lucky to be alive. He had been fading fast and if he had arrived one moment later, he would have fallen beyond healing. But the hobbit was now resting comfortably in a small pavilion. Though, Elrond knew that he would always carry the scar with him.

And as he looked to the sky, his thoughts shifted to another charge that had recently come under his care. When his foster child had come running into Rivendell, he had given little thought to such questions as the girl's origin, for the wound was too severe.

Even before he began to treat her he had noticed many things about the child. Her appearance was filthy; dirt had covered her from head to toe, as if she had not seen a bath for many weeks, perhaps months. It had taken precious moments to clean the area around the stab wound before he could properly treat it. And by the time he did, inflection had begun to set in.

After the wound was treated he had ordered maids to bathe her before he came back to check on her. What he had seen at his second visit had surprised him, but only a little; he had seen far worse things in his time in this world. The child's cheeks were sunken in, and one glance confirmed his suspicions that she was badly malnourished. Throughout the check up he had spotted others signs that implicated abuse… But the one thing that did truly surprise him was that the stab wound was self-inflicted; it was easy to tell by the angle and placement.

The sound of footsteps brought the elven lord out of his thoughts as he foster son enter the room. Silence passed between them before Elrond stated, "The girl you brought to me is resting comfortably. Her injury was severe enough that I did not question you at the time," the elf turned to watch Aragorn. One hand was left on the balcony as the human joined him. "Where did you find a human so young and steeped in misery that she made an attempt on her own life"?

Looking at the gardens below Aragorn answered, "I found her outside of Rivendell. No more than ten minutes walking distance." Turning his blue-gray eyes to his foster father he questioned, "How could she come so close to Rivendell without the sentinels noticing?"

"I do not know," replied the Elven lord as he gazed at the gardens below. "I do not believe that this was the first time that our lady stranger has been hurt."

"What do you mean?"

 Sighing, Elrond answered him. "There are old scars on her back and arms. They suggest the use of an item, a whip or scourge for example."

Studying his foster father carefully Aragorn asked, "Do you think that may be the reason? Could she have been beaten? Or captured by orcs?"

"It is possible," the elder consented, but he doubted it. Though the orcs loved to torture, the marks on the child did not match what the foul creatures would have done… And the malnutrition that had to be considered. If he was correct then this abuse had be going on for many years, and orcs almost never kept their victims alive that long. "But we will not know until she awakens." Turning around to face Aragorn, Elrond continued, "Estel, I want you to patrol the nearby area and learn if there is anyone else. If so, I want them brought to me." A small smile graced the human's lips at his childhood name.

"Of course, my lord." Pausing for only a brief moment, he asked, "How is Frodo, the injured hobbit?"

"He is mending well." Elrond looked out across his valley realm toward the small pavilion where the ring barer rested. "Frodo shall make a full recovery, though he will never be rid of the scars his night in Arman sul left him."

"Hopefully, he will never need to take further injury." And with that comment, Aragorn left the room to complete his task.

One week later



Lillian slowly drifted from a world of darkness to an unfamiliar softness. 'This must be the Afterlife,' the disposed princess thought drowsily. 'It's a lot nicer than I thought.' A warm breeze stirred her hair, and she realized it was clean. Washed, brushed, and smelling of sweet flowers and rain. It was an odd feeling for rarely were the servants of the court of Kalin given water to bathe. They were lucky if they could cleanse themselves once a year.

A shaft of sunlight illuminated half her face, and she turned her head away from the uncomfortable brightness. Slowly she opened her eyes and stared in wonder at her hair, a warm brown color. It was strange seeing it so clean… She was used to seeing it in such a tangled mess that its length was at her shoulders caked in dirt so thick the whole mass appeared to be a ball of mud. And now it was clean, dull, but clean, and Lillian decided she like the feeling. But she wondered… why was it clean? Shifting, a twinge fluttered up in her stomach. Although small, she gasped at the sensation.

Pain: the one common factor in life. If she felt pain, then she wasn't dead. But if she was truly alive, what was this place? And how did she get here? A frown graced her lips at those thoughts. Who saved her, and most importantly, why?

Shaking her head to clear her mind, she looked around the room. It was bigger then her old room. Such a thing was not difficult to imagine. Her old room was little more then a closet.


It was a simple room, yet it projected a beauty that she had never seen before. To the right of the bed that she lay in, which was covered in silken white blankets, was an elegant table with two chairs.

Shifting her attention to the entranceway her gaze froze as she spotted the person standing in the arched doorway, a small tray in his hands. He was ... handsome. Easily the most beautiful man she had ever seen in her life.

His long shining chestnut hair was pulled back by two small braids revealing pointed ears. The odd shape of his ears did not decrease his beauty, instead enhancing it, giving him the appearance of a mystical being. The stranger was dressed in a blue, long sleeved tunic with the top laces undone. It revealed fair skin and a well-defined chest.


A pair of well-tailored tan leggings suited his figure quite well. He had a youthful appearance, seeming to be around her age. His brown eyes, however, belied his youthful looks, showing years of wisdom, despite their mirth.  "Good morning, my lady. I trust you are feeling better this morning," said the beautiful stranger in a deep soothing voice. His voice shook Lillian out her shock. Mentally cursing her error, she cast her eyes down to her hands as she tensed, preparing for the blow to come. If any servant made eye contact with a noble, they were immediately beaten. Her cursed blood father and his court held themselves above it, as did all his guests.

A frown graced the stranger face as he saw the lady's reaction. "Why do you tense, my lady?"

Keeping her head bowed, Lillian whispered dejectedly, "I must be punished."

The 'man,' for lack of a better term, stopped still. He blinked, and then blinked again. "Why would my father make the effort to heal you, only to make more scars"?

"If you would allow me to speak freely, my Lord." Lillian waited until her peripheral vision saw him nod. "There are many sadistic and perverse nobles in the court of my Master."

"Well," the stranger said placing his fine nose in the air. "Although I may be perverse, I assure you that no harm is to be dealt in the Last Homely House." His unsubtle mockery did not catch in Lillian's hazy mind. A sudden fear gripped her as she thought of what she might be required to do in order to repay this strange man's hospitality. Fortunately, he saw her hesitation and corrected himself...after a fashion.

"Madame, I will not ask you to chew my food for me or other such trivialities." He set the tray down on a side table. "Indeed, I only ask you to chew your own." Reaching for her hand, as it lay bunched in the coverlet, he raised it to his lips. "Welcome to the House of my father, Elrond Halfelven. I am Elrohir, brother of Elladan. May I have your name, my Lady"?


"I, I am Lillian, daughter of Lylia, servant in the Court of Kalin." She flushed deeply as Elrohir kissed her hand in the way of princes.


"Welcome to Rivendell, Lady Lillian." The woman shifted uncomfortable in the company in this beautiful stranger, biting back a wince at the action. This stranger, this Elrohir, said she was in Rivendell, but where was that? She had never heard of it before.

Looking out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at Elrohir before locking onto the tray of food. She was hungry. And the plate was set for a king. It was probably this stranger's food. Nobles never really did care if a staved servant watched them while they ate their food.

Normally, she had one meal for the day, maybe two if she was lucky and the portions were always small. She would have been sickly thin if she hadn't been good enough at stealing from the kitchens or if Galen had not brought some pieces of bread to her. It was never much, but it kept her alive. As it was, she was still dangerously underweight. Elrohir caught her sideways glances at the tray of food and smiled warmly.

"You can eat if you want. I brought it for you in case you woke up." Lillian's eyes widened. Why would a noble bring a servant food? The woman opened her mouth to ask her question but before any sound escaped she closed it. She had almost broken two of the rules ingrained in her mind since she was six; to never question a noble, and to never speak without permission. Studying her hands once more, Lillian shook her head slowly.

Frowning, Elrohir said gently, "Surely you are hungry. You were unconscious for a week."


Again, the woman shook her head. She was hungry, true, but it was wrong for a servant to be brought food by a noble.

Sorrow entered the brown eyes of Elrohir. Someone had hurt this young woman gravely. It showed through her eyes and actions. The ways she was taught were too deeply engraved. It angered him that someone would do this to someone so young. People like that were no better than orcs in his opinion.

He would need to switch tactics at least until he could gain her trust. She was too afraid for his normal charming self to be of any good. And she needed to eat, she was too thin and Elrohir had the feeling that the malnutrition had also weakened her immune system. He carefully banked his emotions; it would do her no good to see that anger.

Gently smiling down to the woman, Elrohir commented, "It is all right, Lady Lillian. You can speak freely here. Ask any questions you might have."

Looking up in surprise, Lillian briefly locked gaze with the beautiful 'man.' No noble had made such an offer to a servant before. Why was he being so kind? And again, Lillian curse herself, as she dropped her eyes to her hands.

Opening his mouth to soothe her fears, he stopped when he heard a grumble from the timid woman's stomach. Smiling gently, he reached for the tray of food. He knew she was hungry, understandably so. The smiled faded and his hand stilled as he saw the reaction the young woman had to her slight noise.


Lillian had curled herself into a small ball. Her eyes closed tightly and her body tensed like she was expecting to be hit. His father needed to know of this.

She waited for the blow to come. She broke the rules and now she was going to be punished. And thus she waited. Nothing came. Opening one eye, she saw that the room was empty. The only sign the man had been there was the steaming tray at her bedside.


            
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"His strength returns." Elrond comments as Gandalf and he watched the hobbits reunion.


"That wound will never fully heal. He will carry it the rest of his life." Gandalf stated solemnly.


"And yet to have come so far still bearing the Ring ... the Hobbit has shown extraordinary resilience to its evil." Elrond replied turning his attention to Gandalf.


"It is a burden he should never have to had to bear. We can ask no more of Frodo." Gandalf said firmly before asking, "What is this I heard about a mysterious woman you treated for a stab wound? Do you know who the lass is?"


Shaking his head, Elrond started to walk down the hallway, answering, "No, I don't. She has not yet awakened."


"Mmmm..." Seeing one of Elrond's twin sons approaching, Gandalf reframed from continuing with his comment.


"Ada, the mysterious woman, Lady Lillian, has awakened." Elrohir said as he came to a stop in front of his father.


"Her name is Lillian, you say." Elrond turned to his son with a small warmth in his features. "Have you learned anything else"?


"Only that she has spent many years in slavery." Both men stiffened at that.


"You know this because she has told you?"


"I know, Master Gandalf," Elrohir spoke to the wizard while keeping his gaze on his father, "because she addressed herself as a servant. Yet she refused to meet my eyes, and also held herself as one accustomed to beatings."


Closing his sorrowful eyes briefly, before returning his glazed with his son, Elrond continued. "Do you know where she came from or how she arrived near Rivendell?"


Elrohir shook his head.  "No. Every time she did or said something that her 'Master,' " he spat the word out with disgust. " disapproved of, she would tense, waiting to be hit. I thought it best to inform you first and seek your advice, Father."


"We need to know where she comes from and her past if we are going to help her." The Elf lord stated. Pausing briefly to study his son. He could see his anger, but did not comment on it. "Do not push her for her past. Let her come to terms with it, and that she is free here. She does not have answer to anyone, and that includes ourselves. Let her know that we are here to help her not harm her."


"That will not be easy." Elrohir commented, remembering the lady's earlier actions. "She still fears her master's rules."


"Then we will have to show her that those rules no longer exist." Elrond replied, switching directions to head towards the room where Lady Lillian rested. "Come, I would like to meet this lady and greet her properly to Rivendell." Elrond said, a slight note of teasing at the end.


Shaking his head, smiling, Elrohir stated, "I already did that father."


Raising one eyebrow at his son, the Elven Lord teased, "There is your flirting difference in the end, my son."


"Ada!"

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