Chapter Four
The Return of the Ranger & A New World
The newcomer ignored me, and took the opportunity to ask, "Where did you get that wood, Sam?" I occupied myself by looking at his boots and thinking how much nicer mine were.
"I found it on the ground, Strider." Sam was not quite cowering.
I looked up. And up. I thought of myself as tall; this man dwarfed me by nearly three inches. Most of the height was leg, too. Lean but broad-shouldered, he wore white that did not suit him and stubble that had gotten out of hand about a month ago without quite managing to be a beard. It now threatened to overwhelm the lower half of his rugged face.
His gray eyes met mine and I knew, for a moment, that he saw my heart, the heart of an outsider in his world. "My lady." He offered a small bow, really no more than an inclination of the head.
I attempted to stand, tripped on a tree root, and would have gone sprawling, but his hand caught my flailing one and hauled me up. His grip was as strong as I'd expected.
I got my feet under me, and he let go, our faces about a foot apart. "Thank you." My turn for the small nod. "My lord." My tongue's unfortunate tendency to channel whatever my brain supplies seemed to have been aggravated by my new surroundings.
His eyes flicked over me again like a deer before it runs. But when he spoke, his voice was calm. "The favor of the Lady walks with you. I would know your name."
"Firiel is my name." My head offered it up, with the knowledge that it meant mortal-woman. I liked it, for its anonymousness and its lyricism.
"Firiel." He tasted the name, searching my eyes again. I looked back, trying to keep my expression blank.
The hobbits, meanwhile, were watching us intently from the ground, and both of us realized it at the same time. It was a bit funny, but I didn't feel like laughing. And something smelled strange. "Sam, your bacon's burning." Saying it gave me a chance to look away from Strider while Sam snatched the meat out of the fire, poking it with the fork. By the time I glanced back, our visitor had taken himself off.
I sat back down as ingloriously as I had gotten up. The hobbits were intimately involved in dividing the bacon and did not notice me. I watched them squabble for a moment, feeling generally ill-used, and then got up again to go in search of peace, and somewhere my overwhelmed head could think.
I felt confusion, but not panic, for the atmosphere of Lorien would not allow it. I could only keep thinking. The personality piggybacking on my mind felt like the fortuneteller, Madame Alatar. She was still feeding me information, downloading skills and knowledge directly onto my cerebral cortex. Suddenly I remembered things that I had never see, places I had never been, people that I had never met. Images and data passed in front of my eyes and then disappeared, but I knew they were still somewhere inside my head, ready when I needed them.
Reeling, I sat down hard on the bank of a little creek, breathing through my nose to retain my composure. I was not frightened, though I could not remember going out the other side of scared. I concentrated on simply existing.
'Keep thinking, honey, always keep thinking.' Those were my mother's words, though I had not considered them since before her death. I thought, and inspiration came, after a long while. A mirror had gotten me here. Perhaps another could take me back.
Forcing myself to stand, I retraced my steps back to the grove where I had first met the Lady, scarcely noticing the beauty of the Wood around me. The silver basin was still where I had seen it. Filling it from a pitcher I found nearby, I stood over it, eyes squinched shut.
I counted to three, and then opened them. The water did not even ripple; I could see straight to the silvery bottom of the basin. Disappointed, I plunged both hands into the water. Nothing happened. It was wet. It was also perfectly normal.
'Do not do this thing.' The words ripped though me, and I staggered backwards, amazed at the fury of the voice in my mind. 'You have been given a chance,' it continued, 'use it. Go now.'
I went, thinking, 'Here I am. Here I must stay.' I did not cry, for a hope had welled within me, springing from the back of my head. No one knew me here. I had no family, but I did have the favor of the Lady Galadriel. I had been clothed by the Elves, and I had seen hobbits. This was Middle Earth, my brave new world. The axis of my life was swinging and I knew not how or where, only that somehow, I had lived to come to this place.