Boromir had arrived in Rivendell only a few hours before dinner that evening and had been mesmerised by the young woman he had stumbled across in the halls of the Elven Lord.
Her dark curly ringlets reached down to her waist, and her alabaster skin was unblemished as it stretched across her startlingly charming face. However, it was her eyes that impressed Boromir the most. They were dark and deep, with such a high level of intelligence that Boromir felt his breath catch in his throat.
The man had no idea how to deal with the overwhelming torrent of emotions Emma Winter caused in his soul. Her loveliness had startled him, even more so when he realised that she was human and not elf-like, as he had thought in the beginning, due to the eternal light that shone so brightly from her being. Why the woman shone brighter than most elves, Boromir did not understand, as she seemed human and had rounded ears just like himself.
So far, the woman had nonchalantly ignored him, being too busy conversing with the elves and Gandalf, the wizard that Denethor, Boromir's father, distrusted. Emma clearly felt comfortable around them, as if she had known them for a lifetime. Boromir felt jealous. In Gondor, all women threw themselves at his feet, begging for his attention. Still, the only woman he had ever wanted to impress seemed uninterested in him, even though he could often feel her dark eyes on him as if she was studying him from afar.
After trying to get her attention all day, finally, at dinner, Boromir gained the courage to try to converse with the woman that intrigued him so. It was a mere accident that he heard her name, but the two humans had not been formally introduced. When chatting silenced down at the beginning of the meal, Boromir grabbed the first idea that came to mind and blurted it out of his mouth.
"You should move to Gondor when this is over. It's a haven for humans like us," Boromir said, trying to start a conversation with the dark-haired woman across the table. Emma sat between Gandalf and a tall, fearsome elf with silvery hair staring at Boromir with a hostile gaze as if the man from Gondor was not welcome in Rivendell.
Emma looked at Boromir astonished. Inviting someone to live somewhere else was not an ordinary dinner discussion in the halls of Rivendell, let alone when dealing with potential danger from the man from Gondor. She cleared her throat to give herself time to answer and finally replied curtly, "I am perfectly happy where I am, thank you."
Emma was known for her warmth. Seeing her so cold towards someone was a fascinating event for the elves. The elves around the table grinned at her frosty response to the man whose face fell at her chilly answer.
"That's because you are so young; you do not understand the world yet," Boromir said with such a patronising tone that Glorfindel grinned when he saw the glare Emma gave the representative of Gondor. Emma felt a warm hand of Thranduil on her back in comfort. The elf understood perfectly why the witch was getting riled up. It was not only because the man seemed adamant about conversing with her but also because Emma worried greatly about the security of Rivendell due to Boromir.
"I might be older than I look," Emma said quietly, and Glorfindel smiled teasingly at her across the table. The elf's eyes twinkled with humour when he saw how the witch was trying to be courteous while simultaneously trying desperately to end the conversation.
"That's because you haven't seen the world yet. You are a mere girl. If you are more than twenty winters old, I would be surprised," Boromir said in the same tone that annoyed her so much, and Emma felt her temper flare. Boromir of Gondor was unknown to her, but the elves said he was known to be a good man. Why the man was antagonistic towards her, she did not understand.
"I don't appreciate being spoken to as if I'm an ignorant fool. I read that the people of Gondor were highly educated and courteous. Has something changed?" Emma snapped, feeling her temper rile while Glorfindel looked at his friend intently across the table. He had known her for years, and not once had the sweet-natured witch raised her voice in the halls of Rivendell. Even when the two friends argued, she had never raised her voice in front of Elrond.
The elves and guests of Rivendell quieted down at the not-so-subtle warning in the young woman's tone, who, up until that point, had been nothing but sweetness towards them. Emma Winter was a witch, but Boromir of Gondor did not realise that as he badgered her relentlessly. The air around her had changed, and the elves quietened when they could feel magical currents swirl around the witch.
Boromir paled at the rebuke of the young woman who stared at him with great annoyance. Never before had he been reprimanded for lack of manners when visiting others, but he knew that Emma had a point and felt shame building up inside. It burned to see the scorn in her eyes. Just as Boromir opened his mouth to apologise, the woman cut him off before he even had a chance to say anything to mend the situation.
"The meeting is tomorrow morning, and I'm tired. Good night," Emma snarled at no one in particular before she rose quickly from the table. Only moments later, her companion, the tall elf with silvery hair, rose and gave Boromir a frosty glance with his icy eyes. The man shuddered and could feel the elf's anger in the deepest corners of his soul before the elf strode out of the hall, his great cape billowing behind him with every step.
"Nay, Glorfindel, let them go," Elrond said to the elf, that looked as if he wanted to go after his beloved witch. The golden-haired elf looked at the lord of Rivendell, his face set in a frown before he nodded in agreement. Elrond was right, even though it hurt to be reminded that Emma was betrothed to another.
"I would tread carefully, my lord. Emma can be lethal if she so wishes," Aragorn said quietly to Boromir, who was staring thoughtfully in the direction where the witch had disappeared to.
"I didn't mean to offend. I merely wanted to give Emma a way out if she wishes to be with her kind," Boromir said apologetically to Aragorn but had a distinct feeling that everyone was listening. In particular, the golden-haired, tall elf that had been glued to the hip of the dark-haired woman ever since Boromir had arrived. Boromir's eyes met the elf's blue eyes, and they burned themselves into his soul, making him feel even more uncomfortable by the dinner table.
"Emma is no lost child. She has lived happily in Rivendell for years. Do not fret over her fate, my lord and focus on the task at hand," Aragorn said, knowing full well that all the elves were listening intently to their conversation.
"Emma Winter is betrothed to King Thranduil of Mirkwood, my lord," Elrond said quickly, "do not make him protective of the woman he loves. The Elvenking is quick to anger and is lethal when protecting his family."
"Thranduil of Mirkwood? But I thought he was just a mythical creature," Boromir said, startled. It was unimaginable that the famous Elvenking that detested humans beyond reason was betrothed to one.
"We all are to you, Boromir, because we live longer lives than your kind. Emma was married a long time ago to a man your kind called the Wolverine," Elrond offered to try to take the discussion away from awkwardness.
"I remember tales of him, the bravest soldier in Middle Earth. His daughter married ..." Boromir was silenced, and he stared at Aragorn in shock. Every educated person in Gondor had read the annals of the past, particularly the story of the king's bloodline that was fabled to return one day. The Wolverine and his daughter Victoria had been mentioned there, as was his wife Emma, who had been thought to have perished.
"Yes, for all intents and purposes, Emma Winter is my grandmother from a thousand years ago," Aragorn said curtly to the man, who paled dreadfully, thinking back on his words.
Boromir groaned embarrassingly before murmuring, "I called her a child."
"Hopefully, you will remedy the situation Boromir of Gondor. It would be erroneous to have Emma against you. The future queen of Mirkwood could be a great ally of Gondor," Elrond said, and Boromir nodded thoughtfully. Gondor needed all the friends it could muster as evil rose in Mordor.
"Is it true what I read in the annals? That she's a witch?" Boromir asked the others; her name had been the only witch he had ever read about in the story of Middle Earth besides Galadriel, the legendary Elvin lady who ruled over Lothlorien.
"It is true. A powerful witch and a loyal friend," Glorfindel said curtly, quick to defend his beloved, and Boromir looked at the elf in shock. The man was surrounded by legends he had read about as a child. There was no hiding the golden hair of Glorfindel, the most famous elf of them all, who had been reborn as a messenger of the Valar.
"I will speak to her tomorrow and apologise," Boromir said quickly. He didn't want to be at odds with anyone, especially not the dark-haired woman who had enchanted him.
"Let's see how the meeting goes in the morning, my friend. We all have plenty on our minds until then," Elrond said quickly, and Glorfindel nodded in agreement. The last thing they needed was for Emma and Thranduil to get so agitated that they would leave Rivendell before the council.
"It's certainly taking you a long while to get ready," Emma said teasingly to Thranduil the following morning when he was getting dressed an hour before the council. She had gotten ready while the elf was still in bed and was restless to get the meeting over and done with.
"It's all about sending the right message," the elf said while Emma took in his appearance. Thranduil was standing there in nothing but leggings, bare-chested, and his hair was ruffled after a night filled with steamy embraces.
Emma walked up to him and kissed him softly, "you look very handsome today. Even if you look ruffled and half-naked, you still look very kingly."
"That was the plan," Thranduil said so honestly that Emma laughed, leave it to the Elvenking to be so brutally truthful. At first, it had intimidated her, like it did all others, but in time his honesty had made Emma love the elf even more.
"Do you wish to frighten the others at the meeting?" the witch asked with a smile and Thranduil winked at her, a teasing grin on his lips. Of course, he would want everyone to know their place and respect him as an ancient ruler.
"I don't like the Gondorian, nor how he behaves around you," the elf finally said, expressing his dislike for the human again—every creature in Rivendell already knew of the Elvenking's dislike for Boromir of Gondor.
"I don't like him either," Emma admitted. Boromir rubbed her the wrong way, and she didn't know if it was just his nature or if the ring amplified his bad sides. Elrond and Gandalf had been adamant that Boromir had a superb reputation in Gondor, where he was considered a great and honourable man.
"Boromir speaks to you as if you were a human that needs saving from us," Thranduil huffed while looking at different colour tunics spread all over the bed. Thranduil had utterly taken over Emma's chambers in a very short time. His things were everywhere, and Emma realised that such was the life of being in love with a striking elf whose appearances mattered as they sent not-so-subtle messages to those around.
"You elves are indeed terrible. Saving me from death, and I even fell in love with one of you. Fickle and dangerous you are," Emma said with a laugh. The witch had been blessed to find the elves shortly after entering Middle Earth. If not for them, she would have died within weeks of arriving. Thranduil grinned, kissed her softly and then continued to go through his clothes. For a moment, Emma watched him until restlessness took over again, her foot tapping impatiently on the ground.
"Feeling anxious?" Thranduil asked, surprised as if nerves were the last thing he would ever feel before such an important meeting. Both knew that was not right, though. The more fuss he made over making an appearance, the more nervous he was on the inside.
"I feel restless," Emma said, her gaze landing on the elf who was trying on another tunic. The witch knew it didn't matter which one he would eventually choose; he would look fabulous no matter what, and everyone's eyes would be on the tall elf.
"It isn't enough for you to watch me half-dressed?" Thranduil said flirtingly to the witch that blushed brightly, her eyes taking him in with great appreciation. There was no hiding the fact that Emma greatly desired the flamboyant elf that had pushed her to live again.
"Perhaps if you removed your clothes, I would get less fidgety," Emma said with a teasing grin, and the elf laughed merrily at her, his smile bright and happy as he swooped in to kiss the witch.
"Naughty witch tempting an old elf," Thranduil murmured to the witch, who grinned happily up at him.
Soon the feeling washed over her again, and she said, "I'm going to take a little walk and head to the dining hall. Perhaps I will feel better if I'll eat something."
Thranduil looked at her, his face serious before he said, "Use your magic if the Gondorian comes near you. Don't hesitate for a moment."
"I shall," Emma promised and stroked the sleeve of her dress where her wand was tucked away like always. Thranduil saw her gesture and knew what it meant. He nodded at her and gave her a small smile.
"I will come by the dining hall and fetch you before the meeting," he offered graciously before turning back to his clothes as if he was solving the world's greatest riddle.
"I'll see you there," Emma said quickly and rushed out of the room towards the hall.
As Emma walked into the dining hall, it was clear that few wanted to eat that morning. She understood the sentiment; those invited for the meeting were getting ready, but Emma had felt too restless to stay in her rooms watching Thranduil getting dressed, no matter how fair he was to gaze upon. The hall was empty besides one table with four hobbits sitting together.
"Sam, here is the young woman I told you about," Bilbo called and pointed for Emma to sit with him and the three young hobbits that had arrived the day before with Aragorn. Emma was happy to indulge Bilbo and meet more hobbits. After sitting so many times with Bilbo and hearing his stories of many adventures, she had a positive outlook on hobbits. They might look small and feeble, but Frodo had proven just how strong hobbits could be. Withstanding evil from the ring was not a simple task.
"Hello Sam, I have heard many great things about you from Bilbo," Emma said politely to the shy hobbit staring at her dumbfounded as if he could not believe his eyes.
"Sam is fearless as well," a young hobbit with dark blonde hair said before shaking her hand tightly and saying, "I'm Merry."
"Nice to meet you, Merry. I'm Emma," she said warmly. Spending time with Bilbo had endeared her to hobbits, and she was happy to have the opportunity to meet more of them.
"And I'm Peregrin Took, but you can call me Pippin," said the youngest-looking one, who looked dumbfounded at Emma as if she were the strangest creature he had ever seen.
"What do you have there Pippin?" Emma asked, her eyes looking down at the handkerchief the hobbit was holding.
"Bilbo gave me a few treats. They are called chocolate, and they are delicious," Pippin said regretfully as they were almost finished, and Emma laughed at the little hobbit who seemed to like sweets almost as much as she did.
"I will give you some of mine before dinner tonight," Emma said, happy to meet another fan of the treats. She had so much in her room and wanted to share some with the hobbit.
"You have some? Where do you live?" Pippin asked so enthusiastically that Emma laughed loudly at the wide-eyed hobbit overly keen to know where she lived.
"Pippin!" Merry hissed shocked, knowing full well that his friend was up to no good by asking the witch where she lived.
"What?" Pippin said innocently, too innocently for Merry, who knew him too well and all the mischief he got into.
"She's a witch. Don't get any ideas or she'll hex you," Merry growled at Pippin, who had finally realised that the dark-haired woman with the sparkling eyes was a witch.
"Merry is right. I'm very dangerous," Emma whispered, and Pippin looked at her, alarmed. There was an innocence to the youngest hobbit that Emma was immediately drawn to, and she smiled widely at them.
"Here, have a piece," Pippin said to soothe the dangerous beast, and Emma grabbed one piece of chocolate right away as if she had been waiting for him to offer her a piece.
"Why do you glow like an elf? Are you an elf?" Sam asked curiously, his eyes staring at her as if he was mesmerised by the light that radiated from her.
"No, I was born human," Emma said, and all the young hobbits stared at her with great wonder as if they wanted to ask her so many questions that they hardly knew where to begin.
"Why do you glow?" Merry asked while Pippin and Merry nodded as if they had wanted to ask the same question.
"One day, I will tell you all, but now is unfortunately not the time for that tale," Emma replied evasively. It was not a story she wanted to get into with them, as it was long and would take much longer than she had before the meeting.
"My girl, if you weren't about to become the queen of Mirkwood, I would want you to marry my Frodo. You will like him; he's a good lad," Bilbo said warmly, patting her hand with affection. There had never been a secret that the old hobbit liked to tell stories, and Emma had been an exceptional listener through the years.
Emma laughed at Sam's face as he sputtered in shock and tried to apologise for Bilbo, but the witch quickly said, "don't worry Sam, I know Bilbo. No need to say anything."
"Bilbo wrote the most interesting tale. Have you read it?" Emma asked the hobbits, whose eyes widened in curiosity at her words.
"No, we haven't," Pippin said excitedly; out of all the younger hobbits, Peregrin Took was the one that would most likely grow up to be a historian as he had a great interest in annals.
"There and back again, a hobbit's tale," Emma said with flair and then added with affection, "it's a beautiful story."
"You, my dear, are far too kind," Bilbo said warmly but puffed his chest in pride. The old hobbit had worked hard to write his story down, and even though one or two events had been slightly embellished for certain flair, the story was true as far as he could remember it.
"Don't be so humble, Bilbo. You know it's a fantastic tale that is certainly worth remembering," Emma said warmly. She had read the story quite a few times as it entertained her beyond words to see Thranduil in it, equally stern to how he was with her the first time they met.
"I would have written the Elvenking a little friendlier if I had known that something was brewing between you two," Bilbo said in a scolding tone, and the witch crackled with laughter. What the hobbit had written about Thranduil had sounded authentic, and there had been no reason to describe him differently. That was him when dealing with outsiders.
"Not to worry, my friend. You wrote how you saw him, and once upon a time, I would have written something harsh as well."
"Ah yes, he also threw you in the dungeons, did he not?"
The hobbits gasped and stared at her in shock, wondering how Emma could ever want to marry an elf who had willingly thrown her in the dungeons as a prisoner.
"Yes, that seems to be the way for him to greet new friends," Emma laughed with Bilbo, who remembered very well how difficult the Elvenking had been when they met so long ago in Mirkwood.
"Will you be at the secret meeting?" Bilbo whispered to Emma, and she laughed even louder. The witch didn't understand how the old hobbit learned so many secrets while in Rivendell.
"Bilbo Baggins, it never stops amazing me how you know every little gossip in Rivendell," Emma said with great affection. The old hobbit had been beyond kind to her, and there was no question that Bilbo had helped Emma to understand her new home.
"Aha, you will be there!" Bilbo said, his blue eyes looking at her sharply, and Emma grinned. It was impossible to lie about such a thing when all of the inhabitants knew about the not-so-secret meeting.
"I cannot confirm anything about a secret meeting, my friend. There are little ears everywhere," Emma finally said when she saw the three younger hobbits hanging on her every word.
"Very well. Keep your secrets witch," Bilbo Baggins said with a frown. He knew that the meeting was about to be held as he had heard the dwarves speaking about it earlier that morning.
"That reminds me, I have to get going," Emma said and stood up when she saw Thranduil waiting at the door, looking as kingly as ever. Her heart skipped a beat, and the elf looked at her with a teasing grin as if he could hear Emma's heartbeat speed up at the sight of him.
"Going to the secret meeting?" Bilbo shouted, and Emma winced at the irate look that Thranduil gave the old hobbit. The last thing Rivendell needed was for Thranduil to make a scene with Bilbo Baggins, who was loved dearly by those who knew him.
"Shhhh Bilbo. If it's a secret, it's for a reason," Emma whispered to the old hobbit, who did not care if it was a great secret.
"It was a pleasure meeting you all. I'm sure we shall see each other again soon," Emma said politely to the hobbits, who smiled brightly at the strange creature that glowed so brightly that it could even be seen in the light of day.
"Emma means that she will meet you at the meeting," Bilbo said, and Emma laughed as she walked away. Hobbits were incredibly stubborn creatures when they wanted something, and Emma enjoyed that very much about them.
"Pippin, tonight before dinner! I will bring you chocolate here," Emma called to the youngest hobbit, clapping in joy before replying immediately.
"See you tonight!" the little hobbit had no idea that the two would indeed meet each other much sooner than that.
"Pippin, see the elf! That's the king that put Bilbo and the dwarves in the dungeons!" Merry hissed, and all the hobbits stared at the glorious king, smiling warmly at the witch as she hurried towards him before kissing his lips quickly. The elf's tall crown made him seem even taller than he already was and his billowing cloak on top of his tunic made him look even taller and broader.
The elf's icy glare came over the hobbits, and they shivered uncomfortably under his gaze before the witch took Thranduil's hand and pulled him away towards the secret meeting that was no secret in Rivendell.