Learning to Trust

by Lady Healer

She wanted to be free. To escape the torture that was her life. She never imaged that she would land in another world. Can she learned to trust again after a life of pain?

6. Chapter 6: Regaining Lost trust

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Hazelhorse: Thanks! Truth be told, giving the ring to Lillian didn't even occur to me. Mostly likely because, doing so would conflict with the ideas I already have in the works. But you're right; doing such an event would change the plot too much. Not to mention, probably giving me a splitting headache in the process. : )

LalithoftheBruinen: Thank you! I'm glad you have been enjoying the story. And your questions inspired me to write some scenes that I didn't originally plan to write. As for answers to your questions… the answers will appear in 2nd or 3rd chapter coming up. And I can actually say that safely because the scenes for them are already written. ;)

Sdoinky: Here is more. I hope you like it!

And before everyone goes read the chapter, I also want to thanks Phoenix for all the help she gave me during this chapter.

Important note!!

 Anything * written within these marks * is being spoke in Elvish.

Well, I'll shut up now and let you read.

                        -Lady Healer

Chapter 6: Regaining Lost Trust.

Sunlight crept into the simple room, shinning down on the small figure on the bed. Groaning, Lillian tossed the covers over her head and buried her face in the pillows, wishing she could disappear from this place. It had been two days since the council. Two days since she had talked to anyone. And two days since she had broken the unbending rules of her world.
Lillian curled into a ball underneath her blankets, as the memories of that day clouded her mind.

***********Flashback***********

To her panicked mind the hallways of Rivendell all looked the same. But it didn't matter. She had to get out. If these nobles wanted her gone so badly that they would send her on a perilous journey to be rid of her, then so be it. She would leave. If she could just find the way out…

Her heart hurt. She was just beginning to believe that Middle-Earth was different and that nobles here had a shred of honor within them. Taking care of their people and kingdom instead of taking for themselves. Even to the point where they would shelter a perfect stranger…

But she was wrong… They were not truly different from those in her world after all. They were milder, kind even … and perhaps that was because they held their heads so high that they would not lower themselves to strike a simple servant.
No, they only found other methods to get rid of them.

These nobles' charades had seemed so sincere that Lillian was starting to believe that, that was whom they truly were. She had actually begun to think that she could choose her path in life without constant fear and mistrust. But that hope was buried in the ashes that it dared rise from.

And as Lillian's thoughts continued to race, she ran down the hallway, her silver skirt clutched tightly in one hand. Tears were building in her eyes, blurring her vision as they threatened to fall. As she turned the corner Lillian failed to see the she-elf on the other side and collided with her, sending them both to the floor.

From her positioned, Lillian's eyes widened in shock and fear as she recognized Arwen. The daughter of the very lord that wished her gone and she had knocked her over. What would they do to her now? What would the punishments be? She had broken so many rules since her arrival in this new place. Yet she hadn't been punished for them. The nobles here claim that they didn't exist; was that a lie? Was it only the Lord of Rivendell that played this charade or did all the nobles here?

Lillian was confused. She wasn't sure what do or think anymore. Defying a lord was punishable by death. But the nobles of her world often used far worst methods to torture the servants before ending their lives. And touching a noble without permission dealt the same fate. What was going to happen to her now?

The human girl buried her face into her hands as salty tears fell down her cheeks unchecked. Such a sign of weakness would have drawn the attentions of the nobles, and she would have been beaten for their sick amusement. But she no longer cared. Lillian just wished that everything was over with. As she knelt there, her shoulders tensed for the blow to come and her mind and soul was immersed in despair, she didn't hear Arwen's voice calling to her.

She flinched when the she-elf touched her. And for a moment that touch disappeared. A breath later, Lillian felt herself being enfolded in a gentle hug and rocked gently as Arwen whispered to her. The former servant felt a shock of disbelief enter her system. This noble woman was trying to comfort her? Lillian's confusion grew as a thought passed through her mind.
Who were the real nobles, and who were not?

*****************End Flashback****************

Her tears fell anew, soaking the pillow through. What was going to happen to her now?
For the past two days she had stayed inside her room. The only person she saw was the maid that brought her meals. Lillian missed the comforting presence of Elrohir. And she was beginning to wonder if he was an act as well. That thought hurt.
Though Lillian had no romantic feelings towards the elf, she had started to feel a true friendship between them was possible…

But it looked like she was wrong about that as well. After all, a friend wouldn't abandon a friend like this, would they? As her thoughts continued, Lillian failed to notice a person entering the room with a tray in his hands. Had she looked from underneath the covers that she had buried in she would have seen the son of the Lord of Rivendell.

************

Elrohir studied the hidden girl from his from his viewpoint at the doorway and again, sadness touched his soul. So much grief in one child… And once more, the elf wished that his father had chosen a differently. But his father wouldn't change his mind, no matter who argued against it. Elrohir knew that. He would just have to get Lillian prepared for the journey ahead.

But that would not be easy. Elrohir had the feeling that the little trust she had gained from her healing had been destroyed by Elrond's decision. And there was little time for him to regain it. In roughly a month's time, the Fellowship would leave Rivendell to set out on their quest. And in less than a week, his brothers and he would be scouting for signs of the Nazgul. Which meant, that another would have to start training Lillian in the art of combat. Elrohir was relieved when Legolas agreed to help. He would be a good teacher for Lillian, kind and patient but strict.

After setting the tray on the main table, Elrohir sat on the bed, beside Lillian's frail form. Pulling the covers away from her face, Elrohir cursed mentally when he saw the running tears. He should have visited her sooner instead of waiting as both his father and Gandalf had suggested. They had believed she needed to come to terms with the situation first, and though he was skeptical, Elrohir yielded to their wisdom. But in this case, it did more damage then good.  Picking up of a lock of tangled hair, Elrohir began to comb through it with a brush from the side table. After a few moments' silence, Elrohir asked, "Why do you cry so, my lady?"

Still lying on her side Lillian stared at Elrohir. Why was he here? And being so nice? In a soft voice she finally answered, "I'm being sent to my death."

Elrohir paused for a moment, trying to decide where to take the conversation. And after a string of mental debates, he decided to ask the questions that had been dominating his thoughts since he first met her. While it might cause her to enshroud herself even more, Elrohir understood that. But he also knew that in the long run that revealing small parts of her past to others would aid her healing. "Why are you saddened about death when you once sought it? Is it not what you want?"

Lillian's eyes turned a stormy gray in confusion. Why did she care if she lived or died? Elrohir was right. For the longest of times her life had been Hell, and she did seek the freedom of death. But why now did she want to live? But even as she questioned herself, Lillian knew the answer. She had had a taste of true freedom. And despite the pain she had known in her life, and may yet feel, she wanted that freedom. "I do not seek death, for I no longer want it," Lillian answered slowly.

A smile graced Elrohir's lips at her answered. Not all her healing had been reversed it would seem. She now had the will to live.  "What do you want, Lillian?"

"To live, my lord," was her response.

Setting the brush down, Elrohir replied, "Then live, Lillian," the elf said and retrieved the tray of food from the table. After Lillian sat herself up, Elrohir place the tray on her lap, adding, "And titles are not necessary, mellon."

Lillian looked at the elf in confusion. "Mellon?"

"It is Elvish for friend, for that is what I wish to be." Her eyes widened.

"Why?"

Tapping her gently on the nose, Elrohir answered, "I like you."

"Why?" She questioned again, dumbfounded.

Shrugging his shoulders, the elf continued. "Must there be a reason for everything?" Picking up a slice of apple, Elrohir waved in front of her mouth, asking, "Now are you going to eat, mellon, or will horsey and birdie make an another appearance?"

**********************

"No," Elrohir sighed. "Do not say it so flatly. Put more air into your words as you speak. Now, try again." It had been four days since his first visit after the council and Elrohir had begun to teach the young woman his native tongue. The idea of doing so came to him during their first conversation after his father meeting when he saw her fascination with Sindarin.  Unfortunately, she was having harder time grasping it then he had original thought she would. Lillian did her best not to roll her eyes.

"Nwalme." Elvish may be a very beautiful language, but Lillian felt just short of frustration. She had tried many times to get it right and each time something was wrong with the pronunciation. Each day for the last four days, Elrohir had come to visit her. And during that time they mostly took walks, talking about different subjects.

Well, Elrohir was the one that did most of the talking; Lillian didn't begin to truly begin to rejoin the conversation until he had started these lessons. And in those four days, the elf-lord slowly managed to slip past her walls once more.

 Rolling his eyes, the elf reached up grasped her mouth, forcing her lips to pucker.  "Again."

"Nwarme." His look was just short of scathing.

In turn the girl crossed her arms and stuck her nose in the air.  "If you want to teach me to speak the language, maybe you should work with hello and good-bye rather than the alphabet."

"But Feanor's Tengwar is the key both Sindarin and Quenya. You cannot learn to speak or read without it." Elrohir countered, firmly.

"If it is this much trouble, I will go back to learning Hobbit Drinking reels."

 He could not help laughing. "Well, then *songbird, * show me what you have learned during your stay here."

She pulled back her shoulders, took a deep breath...and exhaled suddenly. Thinking that perhaps her wound still bothered her, Elrohir placed one gentle hand on her stomach as the other supported her back. He began to search the area, but Lillian brushed him away.   "I am fine, but," the girl blushed. "Some of the lyrics, I remember now, are too, embarrassing."

"Come now," the elf wheedled. "I am sure that Frodo would not teach you anything impure."

"But, Lord Elrohir," she gently interrupted, retreating from their moment of comfort.

"No excuses, Lady Lillian," he winked at her. "Let me hear the beautiful voice you have hidden within you, Linde (Singer)."

She tried with all her might to resist, but it was no longer possible. She laughed, cleared her throat, and did her best not to croak with mortification.

"Drink my sons, Feast yea well
The crops are in, the ale is still
Pouring, pouring, flowing gold.
And we'll drink so the girls are
Pretty, and their fathers speak
Of throwing us all out in the Dell."

As the last word left her mouth, Lillian buried her face in her hands in embarrassment, a red hue flushing her cheeks. She knew her voice not very good. In fact, she was probably one of the very worst singers there was. She wasn't even quite sure why she even bothered with the attempt. Except maybe for the fact that Elrohir made her feel comfortable, even if he was a noble.

The aforementioned male studied the embarrassed woman and smiled slightly. Her voice broke several times and she wasn't on tune, but that didn't matter. She had tried and that was what counted. He was also positive that she never had the chance before. It was no wonder why she was terrible. But he wasn't going to discourage her for every singing again. Far from it, in fact.  Even if his ears would ring for days to come.

Gently, Elrohir started to pull her hands away from her face, saying, "Why do you hide your face so, mellon? It was not that bad that you need to hide your beautiful eyes. No, all you need are singing lessons and pretty soon you will be out performing me!" Raising her chin, Elrohir looked in her wide disbelieving eyes. "We shall add them to your language lessons!"
'He is mad,' Lillian thought to herself. But, many times it had been his madness that comforted her, and it was very confusing. Sometimes this elf gave her a terrible headache.

"My Lord, please, do not torture yourself so," she implored. "I am hopeless. I can do naught but sew, and clean, and even that I do poorly!"

"Nonsense. I doubt those are all the talents you have, mellon." Looking into her disbelieving eyes, Elrohir added firmly, "You just need the chance to discover your abilities, Lillian. And you shall have that chance." Pausing for only a moment, Elrohir continued, "We shall take a break from your language sessions and begin with the voice lessons."

"You are mad." Lillian said bluntly. The fear of speaking to Elrohir was long gone. Driven off by his continued bouts of madness. Well, madness in Lillian's opinion. After all, to actually try to teach her singing, he had to be. Raising her hand to his lips, Elrohir planted a quick kiss upon it.

"Only madly in love you, my lady." She rolled her eyes at her teacher's flirting. She had gotten use to it during the time she had known him. "Now lets begin." Groaning, Lillian slouched slightly forward, hiding her face in her hands.

"No. No. No," said Elrohir as he took her hands away from her face. "You cannot sing if you hide your face like that!" Putting one hand on her back and the other on her shoulder, Elrohir straightened her posture as he continued his speech. "When singing you should keep your back straight." Elrohir tapped her nose. "No slouching. It is an important step, especially for beginners."

Lillian groaned again as she commented, "You are going to be as picky about this as you are with language, are you not?"

"Of course. No, don't hide your face." Elrohir gripped her hands with his own to stop her action. Returning her hands to her lap he started his lecture. "The first, most important things to remember about singing: one, you need breath through your mouth, not your nose." Seeing Lillian nod, Elrohir continued, "Two, you need to take deep breaths from your gut." At Lillian look of confusion, he explained. "Without a proper breath your voice will sound airy and immature, we don't want that. When you breathe correctly, your stomach will expand instead of your shoulders rising up." Pausing for only a brief moment, Elrohir put one hand her stomach, saying, "I want you to take a proper breath now, Lillian." Seeing the blush on her cheeks, Elrohir chuckled, commented, "It is all right, Lillian. There is nothing to be embarrassed about. In fact, this is how my mother taught me. Now breathe." Nodding her head, she followed the elf's instruction and took a breath. "Good." Elrohir commented. "Try to take a deeper breath. Again." And for a half an hour the two worked on proper breathing.

"Very good." Praised the elf-lord. "Now we are ready for the next step. We will work a little bit on tone and pitch." Once again seeing Lillian's confused look, Elrohir explained. "Tone is how your voice sounds when singing. Pitch is if you are hitting the notes correctly."

"Will you give an example?" Lillian asked softly.

 He looked at the woman curiously. "Would you like to hear me sing?" At her nod, Elrohir consented, thinking about what to sing. Seconds later, he decided, "I shall sing to you the sad tale of Tinuviel."

Closing his eyes, Elrohir straightened his back, took a deep slow breath, and began singing the familiar melody in his deep tenor voice.

"The leaves were long, the grass was green,
The hemlock-umbels tall and fair,
And in the glade a light was seen
Of stars in shadows shimmering.
Tinuviel was dancing there
To music of a pipe unseen,
And light of stars was in her hair,
And in her raiment glimmering.

There Beren came form mountains cold,
And lost he wandered under leaves,
And the Elven-river rolled
He walked alone and sorrowing.
He peered between the hemlock-leaves
And saw in wonder flowers of gold
Upon her mantle and her sleeves,
And her hair like shadows following.

Enchantment healed his weary feet
That over hills were doomed to roam;
And forth he hastened, strong and fleet,
And grasped at moonbeams glistening.
Through woven woods in Elvenhome
She lightly fled on dancing feet,
And left him lonely still to roam
In the silent forest listening.

He heard there oft the flying sound
Of feet as light as linden-leaves,
Or music welling underground,
In hidden hollows quavering.
Now withered lay the hemlock-sheaves,
And one by one with sighing sound
Whispering fell the beechen leaves
In the wintry woodland wavering.

We sought her ever, wandering far
Where leaves of years were thickly strewn,
By light of moon and ray of star
In frosty heaven shivering.
Her mantle glinted in the moon,
As on a hilltop high and far
She danced, and at her feet was strewn
A mist of silver quivering.

When winter passed, she came again,
And her song released the sudden spring,
Like rising lark, and falling rain,
And melting water bubbling.
He saw the Elven-flowers spring
About her feet, and healed again
He longed by her to dance and sing
Upon the grass untroubling.

Again she fled, but swift he came.
Tinuviel! Tinuviel!
He called her by her elvish name;
And there she halted listening
One moment stood she, and a spell
His voice laid on her: Beren came,
And doom fell on Tinuviel
That in his arms lay glistening.

As Beren looked into her eyes
Within the shadows of her hair,
The trembling starlight of the skies
He saw there mirrored shimmering.
Tinuviel the elven-fair,
Immortal maiden elven-wise,
About him cast her shadowy hair
And arms like silver glimmering.

Long was the way that fate them bore,
O'er stony mountains cold and gray,
Through halls of iron and darkling door,
And woods of nightshade morrowless.
The Sundering Seas between them lay,
And yet at last they met once more,
And long ago they passed away
In the forest singing sorrowless.

As the song ended, Lillian opened her eyes and commented softly, "That was beautiful, sad, but beautiful." Elrohir nodded his head.

"Thank you." A comfortable silence passed between the two before the elf-lord said, "Tomorrow, Lillian, I will not be here. My brothers and I are scouting for signs of the Nazgul and will return shortly before the fellowship leaves." Softly smiling at Lillian, Elrohir patted her hand saying, "Worry not though, the others here will aid you in anything you will need."

Standing up, he started to walk toward the door stating, "The hour is late and you should get some sleep. I will have left before you have awaken in the morning, but I will see you before you leave on the quest."

"My lor-" Lillian started to say, but bit her lip, remembering the elf's request for a name rather than a title. It was a matter on which he would not take no for answered, and had tickled her until she had agreed. Smiling lightly she began again, slightly timidly, "Elrohir?" He smiled, happy to slip past some of her old world's rules, even if it was mostly in private.

"Yes, Lillian?"

Shifting her weight nervously, the girl asked, "Will you sing me one more song in your native tongue?"

Smiling gently at the young woman, Elrohir answered, "I shall sing a verse when you are prepared for bed. I will be waiting outside your door. Come and get me when you are ready." And with that he walked out her room. Scant minutes later, Lillian invited him back inside.

"Well, get in bed, mellon and I shall begin," he chuckled at her childish excitement. She settled comfortably under the covers, watching as Elrohir took a seat on the edge of the mattress. And then slowly he began:

"A Elbereth Gilthoniel,
silivern penna miriel
o menel aglar elenath!
Na-chaered palan-diriel
o galadhremmin ennorath,
Fanuilos, le linnathon
Nef aear, si nef aearon!"

As he finished, Elrohir opened his closed eyes and smiled down at the sleeping figure. Gently, he took the lack blankets and pulled them up to her chin, tucking her in. After a quick kiss on the forehead, the elf-lord whispered softly, "Namarie mellon (farewell friend)," and left the room.

_____________________________________

Well, hopefully everyone has enjoyed the chapter!

Originally, chapter six was this chapter combined with, what will be, the next three chapters. But I thought it would be a little cruel to make everyone wait for a long period of time, and the other parts are taking longer to write than I thought they would, so I split them up. 

The next part will probably be out soon. All I have left to do is finish the last scene for it, which is giving me problems at the moment, and then it needs to go through editing.

The next chapter: Swords and Memories.

Like?  Hate?  Let me know! Please!