Yes, I realize I haven't updated in forever. If you don't like it, go screw yourself for all I care.

And now, the regular responses to reviews.

Jazmin3 Firewing: Thank you. I suppose beauty is in the eye of the beholder after all. Heheh…so much for updating soon.

Prophetic Fire: Hope your Grandfather feels better. You'll be glad to know that I finally was able to spot and correct my "elves" reference in Chapter Three. Thanks for pointing it out. It gets a bit difficult when you, as the author, forget that you have knowledge not yet imparted to the character you're writing about, wouldn't you say so?

(This was a Chapter One review, but I felt compelled to reply.)

Walker Rhys: Yes…it's not exactly the most conventional use for scissors, is it? But it does show a certain side of Fiona that might have been neglected, I agree. And thank you for your comments on my bio - I appreciated them. It always makes someone glad to know that their work has an impact, doesn't it?

All right. I was looking back over previous chapters after Prophetic Fire's heads-up about the premature elves reference, and was noticing the casual way that Airegolloin treated Manquarewen. And in case anyone asks - I'll find a reason for it. Maybe they're friends, maybe they're lovers, who knows? I'll think of something.

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Chapter Five

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I stood admiring the view of Rivendell, hoping to see a hint of modern technology, such as a plane flying by overhead, or a glimpse of a highway, or even just to hear the familiar music of suburban traffic. But no. It was the kind of quiet you'd expect to hear in the countryside.

I'll bet the nights here are gorgeous. Must be able to see so many stars…

That thought brought back memories of cheesy night-time campfires at the nature camp my middle-school had made an annual pilgrimage to. I smiled. But that smile went away as I realized I was, in essence, stranded in this European fairytale-like landscape. My situation could have been a lot worse, but this wasn't exactly my number one choice of conditions to be stranded in.

After this, of course, came the inevitable Now what? My first thought was to start hoarding provisions for the journey home, but that would be asinine if I didn't even know where I was or what I needed to take. So my next best bet was to snoop around - there's a pretty good chance that a place like this would have a library. And if Rivendell did have a library, there was a chance that said library just might contain maps and atlases. They wouldn't be the most up-to-date maps and atlases, but they would hopefully give me a general idea of where I was. After that I'd have to do some reading up, just to see if I could find anything useful. Then, after all that research, is when I'd have to start hoarding provisions, knowing where I am and what I'd need to have to get home successfully. Just as I had reasoned all this out, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in!" I requested. The door opened to reveal none other than Manquarewen, hauling a very large copper basin.

"Is that the tub?" I asked as politely as I could.

"Yes it is, Ma'am Fiona." Manquarewen answered, taking a few things out of the tub and setting them on the dresser. She then courteously moved the tub behind the screen.

"These are the things you asked for, Ma'am Fiona." Manquarewen said, answering my unvoiced question. "I am going to have to fill your tub with hot water from the kitchens. Would you like to assist?" Surprisingly, there was not the least amount of sarcasm in Manquarewen's inquiry. Sensing a major learning opportunity, I responded in the affirmative.

"Yes I would, thank you very much." I followed Manquarewen to the kitchens, which weren't as far from my room as I was expecting. For some unknown reason, the kitchens were buzzing with activity, and so I didn't get to study them as intensely as I liked, but I was able to see enough to realize that the kitchens were just like the rest of Rivendell - true-blue Renaissance style. In other words, none of the appliances came from Sears. Manquarewen lead me to an iron stove that looked like one you might find in a log cabin. On the aforementioned stove there was a good-sized iron pot full of water. Manquarewen stared at this pot, looking like she was waiting for something.

"Uh…Lady Manquarewen?" I asked, fumbling with the "Lady Manquarewen" bit. Adjusting to Renaissance civility can be a bit difficult when you come from a place where it's considered polite to refrain from saying "Hey, you!" when trying to get someone else's attention.

"Yes, Ma'am Fiona?" Manquarewen seemed to have infinite patience with me, as a seasoned adult might have with a young child.

"What exactly are we doing?"

"We are waiting for the water to boil. Then, once it does, we will take it to your room and pour it into the tub I brought in for you. After that, we will repeat the process the tub is full."

No wonder the never cared so much for bathing way-back-when, what with all the work that goes into it…

Manquarewen saw the look on my face and smiled.

"It truly does not take as long as it sounds." I smiled and nodded, getting the feeling that I was going to be doing a lot of that in the not-too-distant future. The water began to boil, and so Manquarewen took the pot off the stove and began the trek back to my room, expertly dodging around all and sundry in the kitchen. We made it to my room with the water miraculously still in the pot. Manquarewen went and poured the hot water into the copper tub. Then, instead of heading back to the kitchens, she stepped outside via the balcony and began trekking through the vegetation of Rivendell with the air of knowing exactly where she was heading.

I followed her like a little lost puppy, hoping not too many people were able to see me in my Dr. Seuss pajama pants. I made a mental note to ask Manquarewen about a change of clothes. We arrived at a decent-sized stream that was rushing along at a pace that looked like it would have made for good white-water rafting - not that I knew anything about such pursuits. Manquarewen drew a pot-full of water from the stream and heading off again. And again I followed her like a little lost puppy.

I was going to have to learn my way around this place eventually, not being keen on having to hang on to the apron-strings of Rivendell's residents for the length of my stay. Manquarewen walked off, and a few yards later we found ourselves in the kitchens yet again. Whoever had built Rivendell built it with one side of the kitchens opening up to the stream we had been at previously, which I guess made sense. You'd have to find alternative methods of getting to water when you didn't have the convenience of modern plumbing. Oh dear…If they didn't have modern plumbing for their kitchens, then there was no way these people would have modern plumbing for their toilets. Ye-Olden-Outhouse, here I come…

Manquarewen found her way to a stove and set the pot on it to boil. So that was all there was to it then - stove-tub-stream. I could handle that. And besides, I needed to ask Manquarewen for a few more things…I really hope I don't wear out her patience with me.

"Lady Manquarewen?"

"Yes, Ma'am Fiona?"

"I think I'll be able to fill my tub now, thank you very much. But could I ask you for a few more things?"

"Certainly, Ma'am Fiona."

"Would you be able to find towels, soap, and a washbasin for me? And maybe even a change of clothing?" I was glad I had thought to ask for a washbasin - with no sinks, that was all I could think of to brush my teeth over other than the tub. And brushing my teeth over the tub didn't exactly appeal.

"I shall see, Ma'am." said Manquarewen, leaving me at the stove before I had time to utter "Thank you." I waited for the water to boil, and took it to my room once it had done that. After a dozen or so more return trips for more water, the tub was finally full. I stripped out of my pajamas and climbed into the bath, which had settled at a pleasant temperature by now. My hips came up against the edges of the tub, but they had done that in my tub at home. It was quite a squeeze to fit my fat butt comfortably into the tub at home, too. I sighed and shifted position, waiting for Manquarewen to come with the soap. I didn't have to wait long before there was a knock at the door.

"Ma'am Fiona? It is Manquarewen - may I come in?" I wasn't too fond of the idea of having her see me in the bath, but I figured that I had already made enough of an idiot of myself in front of her that it wouldn't really matter if she saw my naked girth, and besides, I needed the things she would be bringing me.

"Please do!" I called to her. Manquarewen came in holding a decent sized wooden basket, which she immediately began extracting things from. She first pulled out two towels and two washcloths, which she set next to the tub where I could reach them.

"Thank you for all your help, Lady Manquarewen." I was still having a bit of trouble adjusting to the whole Renaissance bit with calling people Lords and Ladies, but I was learning. When in Rome, do as the Romans do, right?

"You are welcome, Ma'am Fiona." Manquarewen replied, taking a fairly small glazed bowl that I assumed to be the washbasin I had asked for and placing it one the dresser next to the things she had brought for me earlier. After this, she pulled out a bar of what looked like homemade soap and placed it on top of the towels she had brought in. She then dug out a simple cotton shift.

"I hope this will fit you, Ma'am Fiona. It was the only thing I could find that might." Manquarewen told me. "Oh, dear." She said, after a moment's pause. "I haven't offended you, have I, Ma'am?" I shook my head and smiled.

"Not at all, Lady Manquarewen." I picked up the bar of soap and sniffed it cautiously. It smelled minty.

"Thank you very much for all your help, Lady Manquarewen." I told her, "I deeply appreciate it."

"You are quite welcome." Manquarewen told me, giving a little bow and walking out. I happily went on bathing. When I felt as clean as I could, considering the lack of shampoo and conditioner and whatnot, I stepped out of the tub and toweled myself dry. After this I stepped back behind the screen put my underwear back on, and then pulled the cotton shift Manquarewen had brought over my bra and panties. Fortunately, the shift was just a little bit of a squeeze to get into. I took the washbasin, dipped it into the tub, and carried it back to the dresser. I picked up the toothbrush and toothpaste Manquarewen had brought in for me.

As I had noticed quite a few times before, these people were impossibly true to the Renaissance way of life - the toothbrush was made of bone, and the bristles were made of some sort of wiry animal hair. And the toothpaste came in a little bowl. I lifted the bowl to my nose and sniffed it - it smelled minty, but not the over-powering Colgate minty. Whether I like it or not, this seemed to be the only thing that was keeping me from tooth decay. I only hoped there was a cure for whatever disease I might get using them. I brushed my teeth, and was thankful to note that the effect was pretty much the same as my trusty Oral B toothbrush and Colgate. I set the toothbrush and toothpaste down beside the washbasin and picked up the comb Manquarewen had brought me.

This comb was shaped so as to be useful as well as ornamental - not only could it quite effectively get the tangles out of my hair, but it also doubled as a hair ornament. I made a note of this and moved on to the final item, which was simply a scrap of fabric. I tied my hair up into a pony tail with this and surveyed myself in the mirror. I was still fat and ugly, of course, but now I was fat and ugly and dressed funny. Great. I turned around and looked at the tub, trying to figure out what to do with it. I cautiously tried to push the tub towards the balcony, but only succeeded in swishing the water around.

I did the only other thing I could think of - I left it there. I set the iron pot under the bed, figuring it might come in handy some other time. I sat down on the bed and suddenly remembered that my pajama pants had pockets. I turned out these pockets, only to be a bit disappointed. I had only found a tube of Chapstick, two large safety pins, and two shoelaces. I laid these items on the bed and tried to figure out if they had any practical use, or if I should just toss them into whatever the hell the equivalent of a trashcan is here. I decided that the shoelaces might come in handy, as hairties if nothing else, and that I might as well keep the Chapstick since it wasn't melted. But what could I use the safety pins for?

I moved around on the bed, trying to get comfortable. And then, it hit me that the safety pins had a very practical use after all. Under this cotton shift my thighs happened to rub together, which at home I usually solved with a pair of spandex. But these people definitely didn't seem to be the type to have a pair of spandex lying around. The only solution to this, it seemed, was to put on my pajama pants underneath the shift. Normally this would look incredibly stupid because the pant legs would show, but now I could use the safety pins and pins the pant legs up so that they wouldn't be seen. I did this, and became a slightly happier woman. I went off to find Manquarewen to bug her about a few more things, among them the location of Ye-Olden-Outhouse, the possibility of getting a pair of shoes as I didn't fancy spending my stay at Rivendell barefoot, and why couldn't I break with the whole Renaissance thing and just wear pants.

A few minutes into my travels, I happened to bump into Airegolloin.

"Hello, Lady Fiona." He greeted me politely.

"Please, call me Ma'am." I told him, hoping the compromise would work as well with him as it had with Manquarewen.

"Hello, Ma'm Fiona." He revised his former greeting. Arrgh. I guess everyone here was going to start calling me that. "I spoke to the Lord Elrond about you, and he wishes to speak with you after dinner tonight."

"Er, thank you Lord Airegolloin." I told him, and then asked where I might find Manquarewen. As my luck would have it, she was on the other side of Rivendell. I thanked him and set off on my journey, not worrying about what to do with the rest of the day, figuring that finding Manquarewen would take up a good chunk of it.

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I never thought I would write an entire chapter about grooming. It shouldn't happen again, or so I hope. If it does, you have the right to send me hateful emails about wasting your time. Oh, and by the way, for all you grammar sticklers, I checked - "atlases" is the plural form of atlas.

As always, you are quite welcome to send me your questions, comments, or philosophical ramblings.