Look! Another one! Wow! And it's even longer! Excerpts from A Sense of Belonging have been used, once again, thank-you-very-much ArwenAria18!
Chapter 10
Rhian looked back as they came at last to the way out of the valley of Rivendell; far below, she saw the lights of the Last Homely House glimmering. Then she turned her face forward, following the dim outline of Aragorn's shoulders, walking with the night wind behind her.
In the middle of the night, after the departure of the Fellowship, Rosie woke from a nightmare, calling for her daddy. It took some time for Erin to sooth her back to sleep. That was why she was awake to hear the soft pad of hobbit feet in the passage outside, and the gentle following rustle of an elven gown. It was why she was awake to hear the whispered conversation outside the door.
"You are leaving, then," said the soft voice of Arwen.
"I might have known you would find out, Arwen my friend," Aria answered.
"Are you worried that you will alter the course greatly?"
"I feel as though I have to go. As if...I were a part of the course it is said I can alter. I have worried much over that but if I stay here and do nothing, I don't know what will become of me."
"It will be perilous- you don't know how perilous."
"Neither do any of the hobbits, and even of the others I have my doubts."
"I will not try to stop you, nin mellon, I have always thought that you were meant to accompany Frodo. Would that I could join you, but my place is here. Take care!"
As Aria's steps retreated down the hall, Erin heard Arwen going the opposite way- she opened the door quickly. "Lady," she said; desperation edged her voice. Arwen turned back. "It is not a good idea for Aria to go after the Fellowship alone! Surely-"
Arwen smiled at her. "Of course. You are going with her, and I will watch over your Rosie."
Erin smiled back. "Are you a mind reader, lady?"
"No- your face is clear enough. Keep her and yourself safe!"
Erin, dressed in some of the clothes her sister had left, overtook Aria at the border of Imladris. Aria had laughed when she saw her, but the reaction was nothing to Erin's when Aria lowered her hood. "Your hair!" The bright aubern locks had been cut level with the hobbit girl's chin.
"Yes, I know," Aria said. "You're really not hear to take me back?"
"No. Arwen is right- you belong with Frodo, and I belong with my sister."
"You two are very close," Aria said thoughtfully as they walked.
"Yes, we are. We've been living in each other's pockets since we were born. Twins are often like that, but most aren't nearly as compatible as we are. We were lucky. Sometimes," she grinned, "we even think together."
Aria blinked, then saw her smile. "What would happen," she said slowly, "if one of you were to get married?"
"You mean, would we grow apart, or would the other one be jealous, and so on?"
"Yes."
Erin shook her head. "Not likely. For one thing, we don't have the same taste in men- my aunt used to say that Rhian wanted a Knight in Shining Armor, and I wanted Prince Charming."
"What's the difference?"
Erin grinned again. "One has a horse and the other can dance."
Aria laughed. "But would you be...well, less close?"
"In a way- Unless we marry at the same time, one of us will be having experiences that the other hasn't; married life, children, things like that. So we might no longer think the same about some things, but I doubt we'll ever really grow apart. We'll certainly never love each other any less."
It was dawn, and they were walking in silence when they heard Legolas' voice singing.
"Their camp must be near,' Aria said, turning towards the sound. "But surely they can not be up yet. It had barely been light for an hour!" She and Erin lsipped forward silently, until they chould see ten figures sprawled out, each in his (or her) own fashion; Legolas, under a tree, had been singing in his sleep. He had told Erin he was known to do it, but she hadn't really believed him until now. Gimli looked like a stiff board, and he slept with his hand on his ax. Merry was on top of his cloak, on his back, with his hands on his stomach. Pippin had once been atop his cloak, but now he was laying on his pack, with his face buried in a pile of moss. Sam, who was snoring, had his head propped on Aragorn's stomach. Boromir slept propped against his shield, grasping his sword.
Erin, wondering about Frodo, saw Aria tip-toe towards the roots of an old tree, where the hobbit lay curled up. She left them alone, looking for Rhian.
Her sister lay rolled up in her cloak, using her pack for a pillow, both arms stretched up above her head. Erin was about to wake her- She at least, should know they were following- but she saw Aragorn stir, even as Aria did. The two of them vanished into the trees.
"I," Rhian announced to the general public, "am wet."
"And cold," Merry added.
"And hungry," Pippin put in.
Rhian stumbled over something- rock, root, foot, didn't matter- and fell against Strider's back. Again. "It's a good thing you can keep your feet," she muttered as he helped her back up. "Otherwise I'd be done for." She slogged on a few more steps. "Frodo does not look well."
"He is not," the ranger said quietly, looked back to where Frodo trudged, Sam beside him the only thing keeping him from falling full length in the mud. Rhian touched his shoulder.
"You do not look so well either."
Aragorn was silent, and Rhian let it be. Behind her, Merry and Pippin had taken up their litany of complaints again.
"How many days has it been raining?"
"Too many."
"I'm muddy."
"And soaked."
"And hungry."
"Very hungry."
"If you two don't hush it," Rhian said over her shoulder, "then-" Her threat was cut short as she stumbled again.
"Perhaps we should just carry you?"
"Ugh."
"Ugh? What kind of polite conversation is 'ugh'?"
Silence.
"I don't think she wants to speak to us, Pippin."
"I think you may be right, Merry."
"Can't imagine what's wrong with her."
"You're right. How could she not want to talk to two such fine hobbits?"
"Exemplary hobbits."
"Paragons of hobbit-hood."
"Great hobbits."
"Couragous hobbits."
"Wet hobbits."
"True. And muddy."
"And tired."
"And hungry..."
"It stopped raining!" Merry and Pippin tripped over each other and landed in the mud.
"Who said that?"
"I'm not sure, but my nose is full of mud."
"That was Aria!"
"But it can't be!"
"I thought your nose was full of mud, not your eyes. Look!"
"It is Aria!"
Rhian sat next to her sister, head cocked to one side, listening to the sound of happy hobbits singing a bathing song.
"You know," she said thoughtfully, "they're horrendously out of tune."
Erin listened for a moment, and winced. "You're right. They haven't been singing the whole time, have they?"
"No, thank heaven. Everyone's been in the Depths of Despair."
"Ah. That must be so much more...pleasant?"
Rhian laughed. "Oh yes, absolutely marvelous. No more worries about that, though," she added, looking over at Aria. She grinned. "The sun's come out and all's right with the world," she sang.
"I'm sorry dear, I know how much you enjoy a good dreary tramp in the mud."
"Yes, I'm desolate, but I think I might just recover."
"Really? Because if you still feel a bit down about it I could throw some mud at you."
"No-thank-you. I am clean for the first time in...um...a long time. I'm staying this way. Keep your mud to yourself."
"But my mommy taught me to share!"
Rhian noticed a distinct difference in the outlook of the Fellowship now that Aria was there. Even on rainy days the sun was not missed, for Aria lightened spirits naturally. A soft-spoken word from her soothed flaring tempers, comforted raw nerves, made the world seem a bit brighter. She had firmly resolved to let that be her mission, and nothing else. -Every journey needs someone solely for the purpose of making things easier, and I'll not bother myself with any other occupation. As a result, sun was brighter, weather was milder, food was more satisfying, and Frodo was once more himself.
Aria's cut hair made a sensation, to say the least. It was something of a novelty to most to see a grown woman with short hair, especially Aria. But Frodo adamantly declared the cut to be "sweet" - and it was so.
Most of the time she pulled it back and fastened it with a bit of string. It made a velvety-soft, sweetly curling tuft which practically begged to be touched. Or so Pippin said as explanation for the numerous times he tugged it. Many of the Fellowship pleaded guilty to that offense; even Frodo was not above an occasional pull. Gentle, of course, and sometimes he even asked her permission prior to touching it (which Aria found irresistably cute), but a pull nonetheless. Aria berated them all, and they would apologize most sincerely - then as she turned her head with the satisfaction of having gotten her point across, a soft tug would come once again from guilty hobbit-fingers. It usually ended with Aria disowning them all and stalking off in feigned anger. Sometimes she pulled their curls in revenge.
They met with an extraordinarily windy day a while later. Sand, silt, leaves, twigs, and other objects were constantly being blown in their faces.
Erin was walking in front of Legolas, leaning forward into the wind, when Frodo darted ahead and began walking behind Gandalf. She smiled when she realized what he was doing- using the wizard as a windblock. She looked back- Aria was behind Legolas. Erin, who had heard nothing but the roaring of wind for hours now, was surprised when some trick brought Aria's words to her; "I can't hear a word you're saying, but it's fun either way." She was speaking to Legolas, who apparently heard nothing either. He answered, though, saying "Are you feeling well today, Lady? You look splendid."
Their conversation went on, so, until Erin laughed silently into the rough air. Then Legolas spoke again and all laughter died.
"Do you know, Aria, that I think I'm in love with you? I can't tell you because you love Frodo, and... it's hard, Aria."
Erin bit her lip. She had known and understood that Legolas thought of her as a friend, perhaps a sister. And had accepted it, enjoying his presence and comfort, as the only one other than Rhian who knew her history. But she could not stop a rush of jealousy that he should love Aria- Aria, who loved someone else, when she- Erin worked hard not to complete that thought. To stop it she was forced to begin listening again, and soon she felt nothing but pity for the forlornness in Legolas' voice, because she could understand it completely.
Erin looked over her shoulder at the sound of laughter behind. "They tried to pull it again," said Legolas' voice in her ear, meaning Aria's tiny ponytail. Erin shook her head and trudged on.
"And here I thought people pulled my hair because it was long..."
Cold. Erin thought. I. Hate. Cold. She stumbled again, and Legolas, who walked behind her, reached out a supporting hand. She was too frozen and weary to offer much more than a half smile in gratitude, between blue tinted lips.
When they had prepared to take on Caradhras, Erin had been filled with misgiving by the name- she knew that name, and something in the haze of her blurred memory told her it was not a path she wished to tread. Or perhaps it was merely the sight of it.
She had rooted out everything she had resembling a sock, and was now glad that the boots she wore were too big, because now they were to small. Her hair, which had been more often that not twisted up onto her head, now lay on her neck, providing some small protection, with the braid tucked in the back of her tunic. Gloves- thank heaven for gloves. And for Legolas, who saved her from falling again.
And the worst was yet to come, as the snow fell faster and thicker.
"Rhian! Rhian, you have to wake up now!" She mumbled, curling up tighter in an attempt to shut the voice out, but suddenly there was a sharp crack, and her cheek stung.
"Wha-" She struggled up, putting a hand to her face. She frowned up at Boromir. "You slapped me!" she said accusingly.
"I saved you," he corrected. "You might not have woken up again. We must turn back before we all freeze." He turned away, pushing through the piles of snow.
Oh, she thought. Of course. He's clearing a path. "Erin," she added out loud. "Erin? Erin!"
"I'm right here," her sister's voice said from behind her. "I managed not to go to sleep, thank you."
"Huh. Keep it to yourself. Up." The two of them, leaning on each other, staggered with the hobbits after Boromir. "What a useless lot we are," observed Rhian, some of her spirit coming back out of the cold-induced fog. "So far all we do is consume edibles, carry unused items, and get in the way. What are we good for?"
"Body heat," Erin said, and they stumbled on, with an arm each around the other's waist.
They camped at the foot of the mountain. Rhian, and especially Erin, could still feel the mountain's cold, especially at night. They had developed the habit of sleeping back to back, talking each other to sleep. At the foot of Caradhras, still shivering even under the blankets, Erin gave a whispered account of the overheard half-conversation, and her sister squeezed her hand in sympathy. "Erin, what if- even if he loved you back- what if we were to find our way home? Isn't this, well, almost better?" It was lame, she knew, but there was nothing else to be said. Certainly not "I understand" because Rhian had never been in love, never even thought she was in love.
"I've thought of that," Erin whispered back. "I try to be thankful, when I think that we might go home. But what if we don't?"
Rhian was silent. "I would almost rather not think about it," she said finally. "If I were given the choice, I'm not sure what I would do- how could we go home, when there is such a quest to be accomplished? But what if our presence is a stumbling block? What if we ruin everything? I almost wish I could remember what happens but then I decide that would make everything worse. What is there for us at home? But what is there for us here? I- sometimes I feel...vague. Or...faded. Like..."
"Like we're neither here nor there. Just...somewhere in between. We didn't belong in our world- the other world. It wasn't ours. But we don't belong here, do we? Mama and Papa aren't buried here, Aunt Lianne and Uncle Bryant and Jon aren't here. All we have is Rosie-"
"And our books," Rhian added, thinking of the beloved piles of volumes, left in the care of Elrond.
"Yes, and your harp. But I think about things like the blue comforter, and wish I had it. And I miss Taliesin."
"But if we went home-"
"I would miss Aria and Frodo and Samand Merry and Pippin and Gimli and- and Legolas..." Erin added, blushing.
"And Aragorn and Gandalf-"
"And Bill."
"Yes, and Bill. And I would miss hearing elves speak and knowing there were people like hobbits, and castles, where people live and work..."
"Miss living in a fairy tale, you would, Rhian-"
"Yes, and being part of a quest. Can't you feel it, that we're part of something bigger and older than that grumpy old mountain up there?"
"Yes. It's almost terrifying."
"But we're here."
"Yes."
"Erin?"
"Yes?"
"We do belong somewhere, don't we?."
"Yes. With each other."
Caradhras had beaten them. Apparently they would be forced to go beneath the mountain... a prospect at which Gimli thrilled, and Legolas shuddered.
"Moria," Rhian said flatly. "Moria?"
"Moria," said Gandalf.
"Moria?"
"Yes, Moria!"
She sat down. "Moria." Rhian looked over at her sister. "That name gives me a really, really bad feeling."
A/N: Half of this chapter- from the 'conversation' between Aria and Legolas (dialogue ArwenAria18's, but everything else mine) onward- was written several months ago, way back when before they were even close to leaving Rivendell; before Erin and Legolas had their 'interlude'. I really like that part. I felt like my sisters were acting like sisters, more than they've done in other chapters. I also think that they really show Erin and Rhian's relationship; of course, they were the best thing I had for that at the time, before I'd written any other good sister scenes. Anyway, thank you for reading and by the by, writing this involves re-reading both A Sense of Belonging and LOTR- great works! Read, encourage your friends to read, and so on. I'm just an innocent bystander who got caught up in the excitement ;)
Chapter 10
Rhian looked back as they came at last to the way out of the valley of Rivendell; far below, she saw the lights of the Last Homely House glimmering. Then she turned her face forward, following the dim outline of Aragorn's shoulders, walking with the night wind behind her.
In the middle of the night, after the departure of the Fellowship, Rosie woke from a nightmare, calling for her daddy. It took some time for Erin to sooth her back to sleep. That was why she was awake to hear the soft pad of hobbit feet in the passage outside, and the gentle following rustle of an elven gown. It was why she was awake to hear the whispered conversation outside the door.
"You are leaving, then," said the soft voice of Arwen.
"I might have known you would find out, Arwen my friend," Aria answered.
"Are you worried that you will alter the course greatly?"
"I feel as though I have to go. As if...I were a part of the course it is said I can alter. I have worried much over that but if I stay here and do nothing, I don't know what will become of me."
"It will be perilous- you don't know how perilous."
"Neither do any of the hobbits, and even of the others I have my doubts."
"I will not try to stop you, nin mellon, I have always thought that you were meant to accompany Frodo. Would that I could join you, but my place is here. Take care!"
As Aria's steps retreated down the hall, Erin heard Arwen going the opposite way- she opened the door quickly. "Lady," she said; desperation edged her voice. Arwen turned back. "It is not a good idea for Aria to go after the Fellowship alone! Surely-"
Arwen smiled at her. "Of course. You are going with her, and I will watch over your Rosie."
Erin smiled back. "Are you a mind reader, lady?"
"No- your face is clear enough. Keep her and yourself safe!"
Erin, dressed in some of the clothes her sister had left, overtook Aria at the border of Imladris. Aria had laughed when she saw her, but the reaction was nothing to Erin's when Aria lowered her hood. "Your hair!" The bright aubern locks had been cut level with the hobbit girl's chin.
"Yes, I know," Aria said. "You're really not hear to take me back?"
"No. Arwen is right- you belong with Frodo, and I belong with my sister."
"You two are very close," Aria said thoughtfully as they walked.
"Yes, we are. We've been living in each other's pockets since we were born. Twins are often like that, but most aren't nearly as compatible as we are. We were lucky. Sometimes," she grinned, "we even think together."
Aria blinked, then saw her smile. "What would happen," she said slowly, "if one of you were to get married?"
"You mean, would we grow apart, or would the other one be jealous, and so on?"
"Yes."
Erin shook her head. "Not likely. For one thing, we don't have the same taste in men- my aunt used to say that Rhian wanted a Knight in Shining Armor, and I wanted Prince Charming."
"What's the difference?"
Erin grinned again. "One has a horse and the other can dance."
Aria laughed. "But would you be...well, less close?"
"In a way- Unless we marry at the same time, one of us will be having experiences that the other hasn't; married life, children, things like that. So we might no longer think the same about some things, but I doubt we'll ever really grow apart. We'll certainly never love each other any less."
It was dawn, and they were walking in silence when they heard Legolas' voice singing.
"Their camp must be near,' Aria said, turning towards the sound. "But surely they can not be up yet. It had barely been light for an hour!" She and Erin lsipped forward silently, until they chould see ten figures sprawled out, each in his (or her) own fashion; Legolas, under a tree, had been singing in his sleep. He had told Erin he was known to do it, but she hadn't really believed him until now. Gimli looked like a stiff board, and he slept with his hand on his ax. Merry was on top of his cloak, on his back, with his hands on his stomach. Pippin had once been atop his cloak, but now he was laying on his pack, with his face buried in a pile of moss. Sam, who was snoring, had his head propped on Aragorn's stomach. Boromir slept propped against his shield, grasping his sword.
Erin, wondering about Frodo, saw Aria tip-toe towards the roots of an old tree, where the hobbit lay curled up. She left them alone, looking for Rhian.
Her sister lay rolled up in her cloak, using her pack for a pillow, both arms stretched up above her head. Erin was about to wake her- She at least, should know they were following- but she saw Aragorn stir, even as Aria did. The two of them vanished into the trees.
"I," Rhian announced to the general public, "am wet."
"And cold," Merry added.
"And hungry," Pippin put in.
Rhian stumbled over something- rock, root, foot, didn't matter- and fell against Strider's back. Again. "It's a good thing you can keep your feet," she muttered as he helped her back up. "Otherwise I'd be done for." She slogged on a few more steps. "Frodo does not look well."
"He is not," the ranger said quietly, looked back to where Frodo trudged, Sam beside him the only thing keeping him from falling full length in the mud. Rhian touched his shoulder.
"You do not look so well either."
Aragorn was silent, and Rhian let it be. Behind her, Merry and Pippin had taken up their litany of complaints again.
"How many days has it been raining?"
"Too many."
"I'm muddy."
"And soaked."
"And hungry."
"Very hungry."
"If you two don't hush it," Rhian said over her shoulder, "then-" Her threat was cut short as she stumbled again.
"Perhaps we should just carry you?"
"Ugh."
"Ugh? What kind of polite conversation is 'ugh'?"
Silence.
"I don't think she wants to speak to us, Pippin."
"I think you may be right, Merry."
"Can't imagine what's wrong with her."
"You're right. How could she not want to talk to two such fine hobbits?"
"Exemplary hobbits."
"Paragons of hobbit-hood."
"Great hobbits."
"Couragous hobbits."
"Wet hobbits."
"True. And muddy."
"And tired."
"And hungry..."
"It stopped raining!" Merry and Pippin tripped over each other and landed in the mud.
"Who said that?"
"I'm not sure, but my nose is full of mud."
"That was Aria!"
"But it can't be!"
"I thought your nose was full of mud, not your eyes. Look!"
"It is Aria!"
Rhian sat next to her sister, head cocked to one side, listening to the sound of happy hobbits singing a bathing song.
"You know," she said thoughtfully, "they're horrendously out of tune."
Erin listened for a moment, and winced. "You're right. They haven't been singing the whole time, have they?"
"No, thank heaven. Everyone's been in the Depths of Despair."
"Ah. That must be so much more...pleasant?"
Rhian laughed. "Oh yes, absolutely marvelous. No more worries about that, though," she added, looking over at Aria. She grinned. "The sun's come out and all's right with the world," she sang.
"I'm sorry dear, I know how much you enjoy a good dreary tramp in the mud."
"Yes, I'm desolate, but I think I might just recover."
"Really? Because if you still feel a bit down about it I could throw some mud at you."
"No-thank-you. I am clean for the first time in...um...a long time. I'm staying this way. Keep your mud to yourself."
"But my mommy taught me to share!"
Rhian noticed a distinct difference in the outlook of the Fellowship now that Aria was there. Even on rainy days the sun was not missed, for Aria lightened spirits naturally. A soft-spoken word from her soothed flaring tempers, comforted raw nerves, made the world seem a bit brighter. She had firmly resolved to let that be her mission, and nothing else. -Every journey needs someone solely for the purpose of making things easier, and I'll not bother myself with any other occupation. As a result, sun was brighter, weather was milder, food was more satisfying, and Frodo was once more himself.
Aria's cut hair made a sensation, to say the least. It was something of a novelty to most to see a grown woman with short hair, especially Aria. But Frodo adamantly declared the cut to be "sweet" - and it was so.
Most of the time she pulled it back and fastened it with a bit of string. It made a velvety-soft, sweetly curling tuft which practically begged to be touched. Or so Pippin said as explanation for the numerous times he tugged it. Many of the Fellowship pleaded guilty to that offense; even Frodo was not above an occasional pull. Gentle, of course, and sometimes he even asked her permission prior to touching it (which Aria found irresistably cute), but a pull nonetheless. Aria berated them all, and they would apologize most sincerely - then as she turned her head with the satisfaction of having gotten her point across, a soft tug would come once again from guilty hobbit-fingers. It usually ended with Aria disowning them all and stalking off in feigned anger. Sometimes she pulled their curls in revenge.
They met with an extraordinarily windy day a while later. Sand, silt, leaves, twigs, and other objects were constantly being blown in their faces.
Erin was walking in front of Legolas, leaning forward into the wind, when Frodo darted ahead and began walking behind Gandalf. She smiled when she realized what he was doing- using the wizard as a windblock. She looked back- Aria was behind Legolas. Erin, who had heard nothing but the roaring of wind for hours now, was surprised when some trick brought Aria's words to her; "I can't hear a word you're saying, but it's fun either way." She was speaking to Legolas, who apparently heard nothing either. He answered, though, saying "Are you feeling well today, Lady? You look splendid."
Their conversation went on, so, until Erin laughed silently into the rough air. Then Legolas spoke again and all laughter died.
"Do you know, Aria, that I think I'm in love with you? I can't tell you because you love Frodo, and... it's hard, Aria."
Erin bit her lip. She had known and understood that Legolas thought of her as a friend, perhaps a sister. And had accepted it, enjoying his presence and comfort, as the only one other than Rhian who knew her history. But she could not stop a rush of jealousy that he should love Aria- Aria, who loved someone else, when she- Erin worked hard not to complete that thought. To stop it she was forced to begin listening again, and soon she felt nothing but pity for the forlornness in Legolas' voice, because she could understand it completely.
Erin looked over her shoulder at the sound of laughter behind. "They tried to pull it again," said Legolas' voice in her ear, meaning Aria's tiny ponytail. Erin shook her head and trudged on.
"And here I thought people pulled my hair because it was long..."
Cold. Erin thought. I. Hate. Cold. She stumbled again, and Legolas, who walked behind her, reached out a supporting hand. She was too frozen and weary to offer much more than a half smile in gratitude, between blue tinted lips.
When they had prepared to take on Caradhras, Erin had been filled with misgiving by the name- she knew that name, and something in the haze of her blurred memory told her it was not a path she wished to tread. Or perhaps it was merely the sight of it.
She had rooted out everything she had resembling a sock, and was now glad that the boots she wore were too big, because now they were to small. Her hair, which had been more often that not twisted up onto her head, now lay on her neck, providing some small protection, with the braid tucked in the back of her tunic. Gloves- thank heaven for gloves. And for Legolas, who saved her from falling again.
And the worst was yet to come, as the snow fell faster and thicker.
"Rhian! Rhian, you have to wake up now!" She mumbled, curling up tighter in an attempt to shut the voice out, but suddenly there was a sharp crack, and her cheek stung.
"Wha-" She struggled up, putting a hand to her face. She frowned up at Boromir. "You slapped me!" she said accusingly.
"I saved you," he corrected. "You might not have woken up again. We must turn back before we all freeze." He turned away, pushing through the piles of snow.
Oh, she thought. Of course. He's clearing a path. "Erin," she added out loud. "Erin? Erin!"
"I'm right here," her sister's voice said from behind her. "I managed not to go to sleep, thank you."
"Huh. Keep it to yourself. Up." The two of them, leaning on each other, staggered with the hobbits after Boromir. "What a useless lot we are," observed Rhian, some of her spirit coming back out of the cold-induced fog. "So far all we do is consume edibles, carry unused items, and get in the way. What are we good for?"
"Body heat," Erin said, and they stumbled on, with an arm each around the other's waist.
They camped at the foot of the mountain. Rhian, and especially Erin, could still feel the mountain's cold, especially at night. They had developed the habit of sleeping back to back, talking each other to sleep. At the foot of Caradhras, still shivering even under the blankets, Erin gave a whispered account of the overheard half-conversation, and her sister squeezed her hand in sympathy. "Erin, what if- even if he loved you back- what if we were to find our way home? Isn't this, well, almost better?" It was lame, she knew, but there was nothing else to be said. Certainly not "I understand" because Rhian had never been in love, never even thought she was in love.
"I've thought of that," Erin whispered back. "I try to be thankful, when I think that we might go home. But what if we don't?"
Rhian was silent. "I would almost rather not think about it," she said finally. "If I were given the choice, I'm not sure what I would do- how could we go home, when there is such a quest to be accomplished? But what if our presence is a stumbling block? What if we ruin everything? I almost wish I could remember what happens but then I decide that would make everything worse. What is there for us at home? But what is there for us here? I- sometimes I feel...vague. Or...faded. Like..."
"Like we're neither here nor there. Just...somewhere in between. We didn't belong in our world- the other world. It wasn't ours. But we don't belong here, do we? Mama and Papa aren't buried here, Aunt Lianne and Uncle Bryant and Jon aren't here. All we have is Rosie-"
"And our books," Rhian added, thinking of the beloved piles of volumes, left in the care of Elrond.
"Yes, and your harp. But I think about things like the blue comforter, and wish I had it. And I miss Taliesin."
"But if we went home-"
"I would miss Aria and Frodo and Samand Merry and Pippin and Gimli and- and Legolas..." Erin added, blushing.
"And Aragorn and Gandalf-"
"And Bill."
"Yes, and Bill. And I would miss hearing elves speak and knowing there were people like hobbits, and castles, where people live and work..."
"Miss living in a fairy tale, you would, Rhian-"
"Yes, and being part of a quest. Can't you feel it, that we're part of something bigger and older than that grumpy old mountain up there?"
"Yes. It's almost terrifying."
"But we're here."
"Yes."
"Erin?"
"Yes?"
"We do belong somewhere, don't we?."
"Yes. With each other."
Caradhras had beaten them. Apparently they would be forced to go beneath the mountain... a prospect at which Gimli thrilled, and Legolas shuddered.
"Moria," Rhian said flatly. "Moria?"
"Moria," said Gandalf.
"Moria?"
"Yes, Moria!"
She sat down. "Moria." Rhian looked over at her sister. "That name gives me a really, really bad feeling."
A/N: Half of this chapter- from the 'conversation' between Aria and Legolas (dialogue ArwenAria18's, but everything else mine) onward- was written several months ago, way back when before they were even close to leaving Rivendell; before Erin and Legolas had their 'interlude'. I really like that part. I felt like my sisters were acting like sisters, more than they've done in other chapters. I also think that they really show Erin and Rhian's relationship; of course, they were the best thing I had for that at the time, before I'd written any other good sister scenes. Anyway, thank you for reading and by the by, writing this involves re-reading both A Sense of Belonging and LOTR- great works! Read, encourage your friends to read, and so on. I'm just an innocent bystander who got caught up in the excitement ;)