Remember

The Last Debate

Disclaimer: Guess what! I don't own Lord of the Rings! I bet you never saw that one coming!

Authors note: Hehehehehe! A little faster than wanted, but, whatever!

January the twenty-ninth came and Rebecca was waken up by an elf servant.

"Lady Rebecca, Lord Elrond wants you in the dining hall as soon as possible," the she elf said.

"Go away!" she groggily snapped, burrowing deeper into her nice warm blankets.

"I am afraid I cannot leave until you are out of bed Miss Rebecca," the servant replied. "Now get up!" the servant said, stripping her blankets from her.

Rebecca grumbled as she rolled off the bed onto the floor with a thud, much to the surprise and momentary panic of the servant.

"Ow!" came a low mumble from the other side of the bed.

"Are you alright?" the servant asked, rushing to help her.

"Yeah, do it all the time," she replied in a matter of factly way as she was assisted up. "Would you please tell Lord Elrond that I shall be there in fifteen minutes?"

"Yes milady," the servant said with a bow, then left the room.

Rebecca got ready, threw on a dark blue dress and left for breakfast. She at first, had not been thrilled about wearing a dress, a little unhappy about it all in all, but she endured. Despite her dislike of something, she always forced herself to do it if she had too. It was compliance more than it was necessity before, in all things. Now, however, she found herself liking the dresses, and perhaps envisioned herself living in Rivendell–only when she was certain she was alone and only on rare occasion. Hardly ever did she let herself think that. No, she could never live there, she knew when she must return to England and our world.

She drew her thoughts back to the present and walked, more like ran, to breakfast. She reached it, and had a minute to spare.

It was slightly unusual for Elrond to summon her to breakfast, and when she got there, she couldn't figure out why she had. That is, until it was almost over.

"Rebecca, I ask you to stay around your room today. We have some things we must move around and things to do, and..."

"I understand, stay out of the way or get hit by a statue," Rebecca said.

Elrond gave a small laugh. "Yes."

"May I raid the library for some books?" she asked.

"Certainly, just make sure you are back in your room as soon as possible," Elrond said.

Rebecca thanked him and went off to the library. After getting two books, this time in elvish, she went back to her room. She set to work translating the text so it could be read by Elrohir. That was how she was learning it, she would translate, then Elrohir would correct, then she would keep going. Elrohir had promised her that he would come see her before noon, so she had time to work. She did a page, grew tired of it, and sat around her room. Her room was a suite, and so she had a sitting room with a marvelous view of the Misty Mountains. She sat around on a large, comfy sofa, and gazed out the window.

Her thoughts ran away with her from anywhere from Indiana to Mordor, and nearly everything in between. She was day dreaming, rather deeply, when she was brought back to the present by a knock on the door.

"May I come in?"

"Sure," she said.

The door opened to reveal Elrohir. She smiled and offered him a seat next to her.

"I apologize, Mirë, for your having to be shut up in your room all day. It is really unavoidable," Elrohir said.

Rebecca smiled, "Don't worry about it. I didn't have any plans or anything."

Elrohir smiled back, "Very well mellon, as you wish. Is that a translation I see sitting in that book?" he asked.

"Oh, yes," she said, snatching it from the book and handing it to him.

He read it, being quite familiar with all the works of his father, and said, "Good job. You are learning fast Mirë. If you continue at this rate, you shall return home and be able to teach everyone you know!" He tried to give a light hearted tone, but it sounded very insincere.

Before Rebecca could catch herself she blurted out, "Is something wrong?"

"N..no," he stuttered. "Nothing is wrong," he added. This time a little more convincing.

"Oh," she said, trying to sound indifferent. Again, unconvincing. She sounded downcast.

"Is there something wrong with you?" Elrohir asked. His tone was surprisingly compassionate and understanding. He slowly stretched forth his hand and gently seized one of hers that was resting on her lap. She had never, before she came to Middle-earth, had a guy try to hold hands with her before, and now that it came to it, she let him have it. She did not even consider withdrawing her hand from his. He took her other hand held them both between his.

"Well, yes. I mean no. I mean yes. Yes," she said. That was an unfortunate moment of indecision. "I am going to miss this place when I am gone. It has become more of a home in a month than all of the houses I've ever lived in. That and seeing elves every day, every where I go is interesting."

Elrohir wasn't sure whether he wanted to smile or frown, no mention of him, but a hint that she might miss him...? He decided to give a small smile. "I am sure we here shall miss you," he said.

She almost frowned, we? Why not I? Not knowing what else to do, she shrugged. That was when she noticed that her hands were yet in his, but she dare not mention it. This was the closest they had been since she had gotten there.

Apparently Elrohir noticed the hands too and he quickly released hers from his grasp. They talked on, almost mournfully, because each was desperate to know what the other knew. As their speech continued, Rebecca slowly became aware that their hands were clasped again.

"He must! He must he must!" she said to herself. "But I must make no mention, nor rush things. Keep your head Rebecca!"

They had started out about six inches away from each other, now they were touching, and it was then a servant decided to summon Elrohir away. Both of them jumped when the knock was heard upon the door. Elrohir left as the message bade him do, and Rebecca was left alone.

She fell asleep on the couch, thinking about their conversation. She was awoken by a gentle hand upon her shoulder and a soft voice saying, "Awake Mirë. My father wishes to see you in the Hall of Fire."

Her eyes fluttered open and she saw Elrohir smiling down at her, his hand lingering for a moment. She sat up, and followed him to the hall.

The sleep had slowed her mind and so she thought nothing of the fact she was being summoned there, but when she reached it, she knew.

"Aur Onnad Meren!" the elves shouted.

Rebecca smiled and began to laugh. She had forgotten it was her birthday. There was a simply enormous cake with her nickname Mirë written on it in elvish and eighteen candles on it. She blew them all out and she found herself in the middle of a crowd of elves. It was Arwen who had arranged everything, remembering Rebecca's brief mention of her birthday date. She had baked it, and Elrohir had written her name upon it. Singing and dancing went on til the moon rose and the midnight hour struck, by then Rebecca had quite enough of elven partying for one night and wanted nothing more than some sleep. She excused herself and went to her room. Within five minutes of her entering it, she was on her bed sound asleep.

Authors note: Never mind. Spoke to soon! REVIEW!