Disclaimer: Just in case anyone missed it during the previous sections, I don't own 'em. They belong to JRR Tolkien's estate and New Line Cinema, and the ones you don't recognize do belong to me.
Before I get to the reviews, I just wanted to let y'all know that I won't be updating again until probably the weekend of the 10th. I'm going to Atlanta for dragoncon. This is relevant to LOTR, because among the scheduled guests are Sala Baker (Sauron) and Craig Parker (Haldir). I will be taking my laptop with me, but I'm not sure how much I'll be able to work on stories while I'm away. I'll do my best, but no promises.
Reviewers!
Leah: I hope this chapter is less confusing. I think it will be, since it is set exclusively in Middle-earth, instead of jumping back and forth between Middle-earth and modern Earth. I'm glad you enjoy the story, and you're most welcome for Elrond. I can't imagine being caught between love for a foster child and love for my own child. . .I can't even begin to imagine what that did to Elrond.
Selene: I'm sorry for making you cry! Well, actually, I'm not. . .means I'm doing my job properly as a storyteller, but I am sorry for making you cry after being up for only a half hour. You are quite correct. . .Flynn is the modern day incarnation of Faramir, Brody is the modern day incarnation of Boromir. It's used often in reincarnation stories, but I think it makes it less confusing. Denethor won't come into the story for a while, but despite the similarity between the names and their appearance, Allie realizes that her Uncle Devin isn't exactly the same man. . .
Kelly: I can tell you this right now about Elf-boy/Undercover Elf. . .he isn't one of the twins, and he isn't Legolas (although I should think that's obvious, since his hair is blond, rather than dark). I can't tell you anything else, but Elf-boy's identity will be revealed at the end of the story. The tricky thing about second chances is, they don't come in the form you expect them to (general translation, Allie doesn't save anybody's life until the end of the story).
Sailor Elf: My dear Elf, I would worry about you if you didn't say 'interesting' at least once! Geez, that's at least three people who cried or were saddened by the prologue. I can't be doing too badly. As requested, here's more!
Part TwoShe. . .hurt. All over. There wasn't a part of her body that didn't hurt. Especially after she tried to open her eyes the first time. She squeezed them shut immediately, waiting for the agony in her head to ease. After a little time passed, Allison opened her eyes slowly, trying to remember what happened. She hadn't hurt this badly since. . .since the only time she got drunk? Allison actually groaned at the memory. Alcohol very, very bad. Allison very, very stupid.
However, she learned a most valuable lesson that day. No matter what people said, alcohol did not dull the pain. It merely made one more miserable in more creative ways. That was the amazing thing about people, as a whole. They always found such creative and interesting ways to make themselves, and others, miserable. Allison sighed quietly. Unfortunately, even that made her ache, and she whimpered.
Someone whispering in an unfamiliar language drew Allison's attention away from her pain. She took Spanish and German in high school. . .had a love for languages. Indeed, before her sophomore year of college began, she thought about becoming a linguist. Flynn always. . . Allison swallowed hard, and instead of thinking about her lost friend, focused on the two people in her room. Or. . .the room where she slept.
It was a man and a woman. . .and it was the man who first turned to face Allison. He smiled gently at her, inclining his head. He didn't seem surprised that she was awake, or if he was surprised, he hid it well. Allison offered a brave smile in return. He seemed somehow familiar to her, but right now, Allison was in too much pain to really think much. The man addressed her in that unfamiliar language once more, and Allison just stared at him uncomprehendingly. Chagrin lit his eyes, and he held out his hand.
It was a vial of some kind, with liquid. . .medicine? Well, yes, it could also be poison, but would they be poisoning her if they saved her life? And what made her think they saved her life? Well, she was alive, wasn't she? Yes, she was, and these mental gymnastics were making her head pound even worse. The man sat down beside her, and when she made no move to pull away, slipped his hand around the back of her neck to cradle her aching skull.
With his other hand, he guided the vial to her lips and Allison swallowed obediently. As she did, she studied the man. Though he looked stern, there was gentleness in his touch and in his eyes. That made her wonder if he was actually worried, instead of stern. She could remember in the days before her father disappeared so mysteriously, that often when he appeared stern and angry, he was actually worried about something. . .or someone.
From that memory came another. This same man. . .that was why he seemed so familiar to her. Right now, her memory seemed about as Swiss-cheesed as Sam Beckett's on 'Quantum Leap.' But even so, she thought she remembered him from before. Frowning as he studied her face, Allison ventured, "Elrond?" The change in him was amazing. His stern face warmed considerably with the smile he bestowed upon her.
He touched her cheek lightly, answering, "Allison." Ahh. All right, those shards of memory were more intact than she thought. Elrond turned his head to say something to the woman, and it was then that Allison saw them. His ears. His pointed ears. The sensation of falling down the hole into Wonderland, just like her literary namesake did, was growing stronger. Pointed ears. He was entirely too big to be a fairy. . .or a faerie, for that matter.
Nor was he a Vulcan. Which left, by process of elimination. . .an elf? No, of course, not. . .she was crazy to even think such a thing! At the same time. . .at the same time, he did seem rather ethereal to her. Elrond turned his attention back to her, and caught sight of her expression. He said something to the woman, and she left the room. Allison noticed it from her peripheral vision, but she paid no attention to the woman. She was entirely too shaken.
There were no such things as elves, were there? No, not from what Allison knew of the world, of her world. Just like there were no unicorns, centaurs, werewolves, or vampires. . .no matter what Goths had to say on the subject. They were wannabes. And yet, what else could he be? An elf, of course, not a vampire. Breaking eye contact with the healer/physician/doctor, Allison looked around her. Once more, her breath caught in her throat as she beheld her surroundings. It was the most beautiful place she ever saw.
Too beautiful, she had no words with which to describe it, and she couldn't even begin to guess at how it was built. There were no places like this in her own. . .world? No. No, no, no. Not possible. Things like this did not happen to someone like her! No, what really happened was she was in a coma. Yes, that's right, she was in a coma, like Flynn was, and she was dreaming. Things didn't happen like this. Things like this, it only happened in books and movies and tv shows. Not in real life, things like this weren't possible! Allison began to tremble, and Elrond put his hands on her shoulders. He spoke again in his own language.
She didn't understand a word he was saying, but that didn't matter. His tone and his touch reassured her. Allison lurched forward, whimpering at the pain in her ribs, but Elrond caught her and held her gently. He kept murmuring to her, and Allison bit her lip, trying so hard not to cry. She buried her face in his garment, whatever it was, because it didn't look like a shirt to her. All of this was strange and unfamiliar. She was frightened. She was in pain.
Slowly, though, the medicine Elrond gave her began to take effect. She grew drowsy, and Elrond eased her back against her pillows. Allison didn't fight. She was too tired to fight. Between her injuries, the sleepless nights, and the medicine, she began to drift off into a real sleep this time. As ever, Allison struggled against it. She didn't know why. Maybe it was too much like giving up. She gave up too many times already.
But she knew why after only a moment. The woman came back into the room, saying softly, "Ada?" Both Allison and Elrond looked toward the door, where she stood. As sleep dragged Allison under for a second time, the first hope she felt since she woke up began to surge through her. Because for the first time since her first waking, she saw a familiar face. Allison wasn't sure if she said the name aloud or just thought it, but the last thing on her lips as she drifted back to sleep was, 'Wendy?'
. . .
"How is she, Ada?" Arwen asked softly, re-entering the room as the girl fell asleep once more. Strange, but the girl whispered something just as she fell asleep. Her father turned his attention to her, frowning himself, and Arwen asked, "Did you hear what she said, just before she fell asleep? I saw her lips move. . .but I heard not what she said." Further, she was concerned about the way the girl looked at her.
Arwen knew not how to interpret the girl's expression as she fell asleep, and her father answered softly, "Nor did I. But I am not overly concerned. She is on the mend, with no internal bleeding or injuries. However, she is exhausted. She was unconscious for three days. . .awake only a few moments, then asleep again. I would know how she came to be here, but I think such answers are beyond even wizards or Eldar."
Arwen nodded. During the last three days, she and her father battled the child's fever. She called out several times while she was unconscious. Always, 'mi-kal' or 'flinn.' And then she would whimper in pain and perhaps grief. It nigh broke Arwen's heart to see such pain in someone so young. Arwen and her father weren't the only ones to notice the child's grief. On more than one occasion, Bilbo Baggins came in and sat with the child while Elrond was occupied with other matters and Arwen took food.
She was aggrieved, Bilbo said, when Arwen or her father returned to the child's room. Her heart was broken, and had been so for some time. When father and daughter asked what she said, Bilbo shook his head and answered, "I know not her language, but I know the pain in her voice. I know grief. I know a broken heart, and this child has lived with a broken heart for some time. What caused her heartbreak, I do not know. But she needs our love, my old friends, just as surely as she needs medicine and sleep."
He left the room, then, to compose a song for her. 'Lament for a Lost Child,' he said, or something similar. And now that the girl was awake. . .well, not at this moment. . .Arwen was certain that the twins would be in here often, trying to make her laugh. That was their way. They were pranksters, and they had huge hearts. To see someone, anyone, so sad would be a direct challenge to Elrohir and Elladan.
Ada was thinking the same thing, it seemed, for he murmured, "Perhaps we should teach the child Sindarin. It seems likely she will remain among us for some time, and unless we can communicate with her, we cannot aid her." Arwen nodded her agreement. Her father continued after a moment, "Arwen, did she say anything comprehensible during that first night?" That first night. Arwen shuddered.
Looking back now, that strike of lightning that heralded Allison's arrival seemed far more foreboding. The only daughter of Elrond heard whispers that Saruman betrayed them, that he forged an alliance with Sauron. Arwen had no idea if Allison was to play a part in the events to come. But one thing she did know. As the tapestry was woven, she faced losing the man she loved, her brothers, and her father. Arwen would need a friend.
Thus, she told her father, "I will start teaching her when she is more rested. She needs to sleep, as you say. And she cannot focus on lessons, if she is half-asleep." Her father looked at her, but Arwen's mind was already leaping ahead. The Elven Lady continued, half to herself, half-aloud, "I should start with the simple things, and build on that. As you and Mother taught us. But she is not a child, though she seems so."
"Indeed," her father agreed, rising to his feet, "but I have all faith in you, my daughter." Arwen smiled up at him. Ada kissed her cheek, and said, "In the meantime, I must see if the kitchen staff can prepare something for her. She will no doubt be hungry when she awakens next." After three days, yes, Arwen had no doubt that this would be so! Indeed, she was most amazed that Allison did not mention her hunger, but no doubt, she was still very tired, and still in a great deal of pain. Ada took his leave of Arwen and Allison, and Arwen sat on the bed beside Allison.
She and her father already spoke of the girl's future. Allison would, of course, need time to recover and heal from the injuries that were caused by her strange arrival in Imladris. The last word Ada had from Mithrandir, Arwen learned, informed him that the One Ring was found in the Shire. Its keeper, Bilbo's cousin Frodo, was encouraged to journey to Imladris with the Ring. It was likely that his gardener, Samwise Gamgee, would accompany him. After that revelation, Ada surprised Arwen with another.
He sent word to their ancient allies. . .all of them. Including the dwarves. This startled Arwen, but if her father thought it was necessary, it likely was. Elrond knew not what the consequences would be, but Arwen knew, just as well as he did, that Allison could not remain with them. He would ask Mithrandir for his counsel, but Ada's instinct was that Allison should go to the dwarves, or perhaps to Gondor.
To do that, she would eventually find it necessary to learn Westron. There were men, and women, of Gondor who spoke Elvish, mainly Sindarin. Indeed, Elvish names were popular in Gondor, as well as names of their own heroes. Allison might require a new name, for her new life. One that was similar enough to 'Allison,' and yet, one that was not unusual in her new home. She would ask Estel, for he served both Thengel in Rohan and Ecthelion in Gondor. He would know.
Arwen laughed at herself, realizing that she was moving too quickly. First, they had to learn to communicate with the child, and then, as she healed, they would present her options to her. And yet, at the same time, she. . .she wished that she could keep Allison with her. Arwen was determined to wed Aragorn, and when she did so, Allison could remain with her, perhaps as a lady-in-waiting or a princess of some kind. An adopted sister of Arwen Undomiel, and she could have her choice of suitors. Assuming she had no one from whence she came.
The truth of the matter was, Arwen was somewhat lonely. She had her father and her brothers. Glorfindel and Erestor, who were somewhat like uncles to her. But her mother crossed the sea to Valinor many centuries earlier, and her grandmother Galadriel was in Lorien. One of the wishes of Arwen's heart, even when she was an elf-ling. . .was a sister. She was the youngest child of Elrond and Celebrian, and she never had that sister. As much as she loved both of her brothers, it was. . .it was not quite the same.
It was entirely too early, of course, to think that Allison could be that sister to her. But the child seemed to trust her. . .indeed, seemed to take comfort in Arwen's presence. Was it asking so very much, that this small, pale child could become her friend, her sister? Arwen did not believe so. She smiled down at Allison, whispering, "Sleep well, little one. . .I will watch over you. There is naught for you to fear."
Arwen leaned over and gently kissed Allison's forehead, then tucked the coverlets more securely around the girl. She lightly stroked the dark hair back from her face, noting the individual streaks of silver in her hair. Estel's hair and beard was showing the first signs of silver, yet he was eighty-seven. This young mortal. . .Arwen still thought her to be in her twenties, perhaps five and twenty. It was possible that she was older than that, for she could be a distant descendant of Arwen's uncle Elros. Even more distant than Estel. But not likely.
Arwen sighed, then sat down on the bed beside her. It brought Allison comfort when she did so, Arwen noticed. It brought them both comfort. Allison, even unconscious, drew closer to Arwen, as if Arwen was someone familiar, trusted, and loved. Familiar and loved. . . Arwen looked down at the girl, thinking about that for the first time, and murmured, "Is that it, Allison? Do I remind you of someone whom you know, someone whom you love and who loves you?"
Perhaps an older sister or a friend? Arwen considered that for a moment, then decided that she was honored by this, if it was indeed so. She told Allison, "I swear, I will not betray your faith in me. From this moment, you are my sister, and I will do all within my power to protect you, for so long as you remain in Imladris." Saying the words gave Arwen a peace, and she fell silent. She was a healer, like her father, and there were many kinds of healing.
. . .
"The child is not connected to the Ring."
The statement was most definitive, and from the source of said statement, there was no question of second guessing. Like his young cousin, Frodo, Bilbo Baggins maintained a connection of sorts to the One Ring. Elrond, Lord of Imladris, asked next, "Then why is she here? Now, when Mithrandir is missing? When Frodo Baggins has begun a journey to surrender the Ring up for destruction? Why now?"
"Who can say, my dear friend? I know only that she has no connection to the Ring, and I would say that she has no idea why she is here, or how she came to be here. Not all things are connected to the Ring, my Lord Elrond," Bilbo answered. Elrond quirked an eyebrow. Bilbo added, "Even now, in these times. . .nay. Nay, there is nothing to fear from this little one." Elrond stifled a smile, as Allison was considerably taller than Bilbo.
"It may be that she has another purpose here, other than dealing with the One Ring," Glorfindel observed and Elrond looked at his old friend. The Balrog-slayer continued, "It is easy to assume that her arrival is connected with the reappearance of the One Ring, but far more likely that she has another purpose here. Indeed, if she was to be involved with the One Ring, would not she know our language? How can one with whom we cannot communicate be involved with something that involves the very survival of Middle-earth?"
Elrond could hardly argue with that logic, though he could not presume to know for certain. Glorfindel continued, shaking his head, "No. No, this child has another purpose here. Perhaps she has been sent here as a lesson. We know nothing of her time. . .nothing of her life. Perhaps she is a ruler or a leader in her world, and is showing signs of becoming like Sauron. . . perhaps her gods deemed it necessary that she be sent to our world to learn humility."
"I do not think so. One who must learn humility does not weep as she does," Elrohir observed. He leaned against his father's desk, a serious expression in place. Elrond looked over at his son, who continued, "I have visited her while she is unconscious, my lord Glorfindel. And even unconscious, she weeps. I hear the grief in her voice, the sorrow, the despair."
"Then what of another possibility? Perhaps she has been sent here, to learn her own strength. I do not think that a ruler of others would be dressed so," Elrond observed, remembering how she was dressed on the night of her arrival. Those clothes no longer existed. Whatever means of travel had conducted young Allison to Middle-earth. . .rendered her clothes useless. So it was discovered when one of Elrond's servants attempted to wash her clothes.
The room went quiet with that observation. They had been debating about Allison's purpose in this world ever since her arrival. Her manner of arrival, and the timing concerned them all. They were on the verge of war. Even now, reports were reaching Elrond of a new brand of orc. A mysterious young woman arrives in Imladris, unconscious and badly injured, as the One Ring was found. . .questions had to be asked, possibilities had to be examined.
Including the possibility that she was a servant of Sauron. That question was still being debated, though Elrond was fairly certain that even if Allison was a servant of Mordor, she was a most unwilling one. One by one, they were narrowing down their possibilities. . .process of elimination. They still were uncertain from whence she came. . .which led into the next observation Elrond made. He told the others gathered, "Arwen has decided to teach the child to speak our language."
That was received with silence, then Bilbo said, "Most excellent news, my Lord Elrond. Lady Arwen misses Aragorn most keenly, and the child does seem to appreciate her company." Elrond barely kept from glaring at Bilbo. He had to remind him of the situation between Arwen and Aragorn. Bilbo continued, smiling merrily, "I do hope Frodo has a chance to meet the child, once he arrives. I am quite certain the dear boy would enjoy meeting another stranger."
"Assuming my dear little brother has not frightened him overmuch!" Elrohir sniggered. Elrond looked at his son, who added, "Ada, please. I love Estel, I always have. But put yourself in the shoes. . .or rather, feet. . .of young Frodo. This man, this Ranger, who can be rather. . .solemn, even at the best of times, is his guide and protector. In addition, who knows what kinds of disaster have befallen Frodo Baggins on his journey here!"
"All the more reason for the dear boy to meet Lady Allison! As you say, Elrohir, the Dunadan can be quite. . .overwhelming. And please, do not tease him so much about how dirty he becomes. He is a Ranger, he has not the opportunity to bathe as he did at Rivendell," Bilbo answered. He paused, then added with a smile, "Even so. Though he is now eighty-seven, I still see him as he was when he was just a boy."
Elrond did not tell Bilbo that no matter how old Estel was, he would always be a boy to him. Nor did he remind his old friend that in the eyes of their friend, Mithrandir, they were all but children. The grey wizard lived for three hundred of men's lifetimes. That made him at least twenty thousand years old, perhaps more. Elrond never asked. He did not believe he wished to know. Instead, he said, "We are still undecided about the fate of Lady Allison, and what her place in Middle-earth is. Why has she come here, is it possible that even she does not know the answer to this question. . . to any of these questions? I would say it is likely she does not know herself. This makes the decision of what to do about her all the more difficult."
"For now, we can do nothing. She is of no threat to us. For the last several days, she has been unconscious, and even now, her body heals from her injuries. She is a Woman, not an Elf, and she has not our ability to heal. Ada, so long as she is healing, I shall not play any tricks on her. . .and whatever tricks I do play, will be designed to make her laugh," Elrohir said. He smiled, adding impishly, "That, of course, means that anyone else in this house is fair game!"
Elrond would expect nothing else from either of his twins. There were times, after the twins were born, when he and Celebrian questioned whether or not they should have any more children. However, their Arwen was born to them, and Elrond adored his daughter from the moment he laid eyes on her. Arwen. That was something else about Allison that concerned him. Arwen was growing far too attached to the child.
And yet, he had not the heart to step in and insist that Arwen stop her visits to the child, stop taking care of her. Elrond knew that Allison was in a strange place. He knew she was frightened, and becoming distressed while injured. . . The child needed his daughter. For some reason, Arwen reminded the girl of her home, and she felt safe with Arwen. He had no business taking that from her. And, he knew his daughter was lonely.
"We will discuss this again, once the delegates arrive from the old alliances," Elrond finally said. It would take, a few months, at the very least. That would buy them time. It would buy Allison time, as she learned to speak their language and communications could begin in earnest. Elrond added, "And I am not inclined to give up on Mithrandir. He is a wily old wizard. Whatever mischief has waylaid him, Mithrandir will find a way to us."
"Then I will take my leave of you, my lord. And Elrohir. . .please heed my words. It is kind that you refrain from pranks against the child while she is recuperating. However, remember that making her laugh too much will cause her further distress," Glorfindel answered. He paused, a wicked smile crossing his lips, then added, "I am certain that Lady Galadriel will be most displeased if we find it necessary to 'borrow' her March Warden to guard a helpless patient from her grandsons!"
Elrohir made a rude noise, then replied, "I have no doubt that it would cause Lady Allison more distress to have Haldir as a protector than any of my pranks ever could, but I will abide your words." A few more rude statements were made as the younger elf left the room, and Elrond just sighed. Haldir was a good lad, but he was likely to terrify Allison the first time they met. Even to Elrond's mind, the young March Warden had little in the way of humor.
With Elrohir's departure, the room became very quiet. Quiet, if you ignored the insults being bantered back and forth between Elrohir and his twin Elladan in the hall. Then Glorfindel asked softly, "What think you, old friend? Not as the Lord of Imladris, but your instincts. . . what do they tell you about this girl?" Elrond shook his head. That was what troubled him so very much. He had no instincts about this girl. Nothing told him that she was an ally, a enemy (Bilbo swore that she wasn't connected to the One Ring, but there were other enemies to the Free People of Middle-earth, who were not directly linked to the One Ring), or even a nuisance, though he was inclined to believe the latter of the three.
She knew not the languages of Middle-earth. She was badly injured. They knew not whether she had any skills as a healer or as a warrior. It was far more likely that she would be a nuisance than anything else. And he said so to Glorfindel, adding, "Yet, she was brought here, to Imladris, for a reason. In a manner of speaking, that makes her our responsibility, at least until such time as she is fit for travel. The question is, why was she brought here, to us?"
Glorfindel had no answer. None of them did. The only thing Elrond knew for certain was that she was to be kept away from the Ring. She was from somewhere else, but she was still healing and he feared the effects of the seductive Ring upon a wounded, vulnerable child. Who knew what the sort of place her world was? She could be seduced into taking the Ring there, and unleashing Sauron unsuspectingly. It could not be permitted. It had to end now.
. . .
The next time Allison awoke, the Wendy look-alike was no longer with her. Instead, there was a little man at her side. He smiled at her and said something. It sounded different from the language spoken by Arwen and Elrond. Allison smiled at him politely and shifted in bed. This time, it didn't send shooting pains through her body. It gave her the opportunity to see him more closely. What she saw surprised her even more than Elrond's pointed ears.
Like Elrond, this man had pointed ears. . .but there, the similarities ended. For one thing, Elrond was considerably taller than Allison's current visitor. For another, Elrond didn't have. . .hairy feet? Allison blinked, wondering if the medicine Elrond gave her was affecting her sight, and looked again. Yes. His feet were bare, and they were hairy. . .furry even. Allison raised her eyes to the man's, and he just smiled, as if he was used to people looking twice at him.
For her part, Allison felt a little strange. Not because of the medicine, but because someone was so accepting of her curiosity. She was taught not to stare, that being curious was impolite. And asking was even more impolite. Her newest visitor was evidently coached in what to say and do, for he patted his chest and said, "Bilbo." Bilbo. Elrond. Arwen. Where was she that there were such names?
There was still a part of Allison that wanted to believe that none of this was happening. That she was still in a coma, or something. . .especially as memories of her last night in her home began to filter in. She could now remember her IM conversation with Undercover Elf. Undercover Elf. Allison's brows knit as she wondered for the first time if Undercover Elf was really an Elf. She would worry about that later. Allison was wavering between trying to figure out what happened. . .why there was suddenly a storm outside her window before she arrived here. . .and getting to know this Bilbo. The latter won out. But it was close. It was real close.
Bilbo. Why ever would she imagine such an odd name? On the other hand, she thought, maybe Allison is a weird name for them. Bilbo. He smiled at her again, such a bright and merry smile, she had to smile back. Following in the same manner, Allison touched her own hand to the bodice of her nightgown (if that was what it was) and said, "Allison." Bilbo pounded on the armrests of his chair, grinning broadly.
All right, that certainly was an odd reaction to her name. Then something disquieting occurred to her. She knew from her study of language, of dialects, that what meant one thing in one place, meant something very different in another place. Maybe she didn't want to know what 'Allison' meant in this world. Maybe that was something best left for her imagination, though Elrond and the Wendy look-alike, Arwen didn't react this way to hearing her name.
And she really had to stop thinking of Arwen as being like Wendy. It wasn't fair to Arwen, nor was it fair to Wendy. It was just that. . .every time Allison woke, even for a few moments, Arwen was there. It reminded Allison of Wendy in the days right after the double murders, when Ava and Wendy were only a few steps away from Allison at all times. Then, it comforted her, rather than suffocated her. The same was true now.
Arwen, though she spoke a different language, and though she was an elf, was the only person even remotely familiar in any way. A gentle touch, a hand against her cheek, drew Allison's attention back to the. . .being. . .in front of her. He wasn't an Elf, and again, he seemed entirely too big to be a faerie. Then again, she tended to think of Elves as being Santa's helpers. Definitely not the case with Elrond and Arwen.
Allison looked at Bilbo, wishing she could talk to him. Well, she could. . .they just wouldn't understand each other. And it wasn't like she had a universal translator, like they did in Star Trek, or translator microbes, like they did in Farscape. Worse luck for her. She wasn't sure if her name was a swear word in some language here. For that matter, she still wasn't entirely sure where 'here' was.
Bilbo said something, and Allison frowned. Agh, this was frustrating. Bilbo shook his head, and instead, forced her to look straight into his eyes. It wasn't something Allison was expecting, but after a number of shocks, a person could become numb. She did as she was bid, and looked straight into Bilbo's eyes. And then she understood. There was always a need for words. But sometimes. . .they weren't the only means of communication.
In the eyes of her strange little companion, Allison saw compassion and sadness. He was sad for her. Allison managed a slight smile, and Bilbo smiled again. He tapped her cheek gently, and this time, she laughed. Her reward was an even larger smile from Bilbo. He reached over to take her hand, squeezing it gently. . .and that, Allison understood as well. He couldn't speak to her, as yet, but Bilbo just told her that she wasn't alone.
She sighed a little in relief, some tension leaving her shoulders. Then something occurred to her. What about sign language? Allison began to get excited at this possibility, then remembered that might make things worse.
She had only to remember some of the confrontations that took place at the factory, because of hand motions. Nope. Not a good idea at all. On the other hand. . .on the other hand, body language could be a form of communication. This time, she didn't allow herself time to stop and think. She was afraid if she would do that, it would occur to her just how surreal this was, and she would have a nervous breakdown, assuming, of course, that it hadn't happened already. On the other hand, if it was gonna happen, it would have happened a long time ago.
Arwen entered the room and smiled first at Allison, then at Bilbo. The man (or whatever he was) slid out of the chair, sketching a neat little bow. That made Arwen's smile broaden, and she inclined her head to him, her raven hair slipping a little around her face. She really was breathtaking. Years ago, when Allison first met Wendy, she was more than a little shy around her brother's beautiful new girlfriend. And her experience at school taught her to be wary of pretty girls. . .especially ones as pretty as Wendy. But Wendy was nothing like the girls at Allison's school. It took Wendy two minutes to win Michael's heart. . .it took her only two months to win Allison's as well.
Arwen said something, and Allison shook her head, frowning. This would drive her insane! Short trip, admittedly. Arwen repeated what she said as Bilbo vacated his chair and left the room with a backward glance and smile. This time, she pointed to Allison. Again, she repeated herself, her eyes filled with a patience that bordered on preternatural. And Allison finally understood what Arwen was trying to do.
The newcomer realized she was being silly. When learning any language, it was necessary to start with the basics. Allison listened intently, then attempted, "My govan?" It was clumsy, but it also made Arwen smile. She inclined her head, repeating herself. It was. . .a greeting? When Arwen walked into the room, or Elrond, for that matter, they always inclined their heads to her as Arwen did just now. . .a greeting, then, sounded the most likely.
"Mae govannen," Arwen repeated, smiling brightly now. Allison briefly questioned if she should ask how that was spelled, then shook her head. No sense in confusing herself. First, Allison decided she would learn their language. . .then figure out how to ask them how to write it as well. While Allison was fairly good with languages, she was also used to the comfort of falling back on English when her memory of a word or phrase vanished.
She had no such comfort here. Allison repeated once more, "Mae govannen." She enunciated each syllable, trying to get them right. When Arwen just nodded approvingly, Allison said, "Mae govannen, mae govannen, mae govannen. . .mae govannen, Arwen!" Her voice rose, almost like a child as she grew more excited. By the time she reached the last 'mae govannen,' she was practically bouncing on the bed.
Unfortunately, that wasn't so good for her broken ribs or her broken arm, and Arwen put her hand on her shoulder, shaking her head with a wry grin. Allison desisted without further argument. But Arwen smiled, saying, "Mae govannen, Allison." That almost set them to laughing. But they just smiled at each other. It was silly, really. And yet, it wasn't at the same time. It was the beginning, and they could move forward now.
Since they were trying to communicate anyhow, Allison decided to ask a question, something she often wondered about. She caught Arwen's eye and asked, "Elrond?" Arwen frowned, then motioned to the door. Allison shook her head, repeating, "Elrond?" This time, she pointed to Arwen herself, then raised her hands, palms up, questioningly. There was a hint of puzzlement on Arwen's face. But not for long. She smiled again, her expression clearing up.
"Ada," Arwen answered. Ada? What did that mean? Husband, brother, lover, supervisor, doctor? Arwen evidently saw her confusion, for she pursed her lips as if trying to figure out how to explain 'ada.' After a moment, she cupped her arms as if holding a baby. Allison just frowned, shaking her head. I don't understand, Arwen, she thought. This evidently wasn't a surprise to Arwen, for she rose to her feet and placed her hand around her hip, then took her other hand and raised it to the level of her head.
Little, big. . .parent, child? Allison looked up at Arwen, repeating the hand gestures she saw her new friend make, and Arwen nodded. Allison couldn't help herself. It was too weird. She was understanding Arwen to say that Elrond was. . .that 'ada' meant 'father,' she thought. Allison asked, "Elrond. . .ada. . .Arwen?" The other nodded and Allison shook her head in shock. She looked at Arwen, saying, "Ada. . .fahhhther."
Now a relieved smile crossed Arwen's face. Allison wasn't sure if they were actually understanding each other, but at the very least, these lessons would keep her mind off her injuries during the next few weeks. . .to say nothing of helping her communicate. She motioned with her good hand for Arwen to continue. . .there was a lot she had to learn, and she would concentrate as long as her attention held!
. . .
"Arwen has already begun teaching the child Sindarin," Bilbo observed as he entered Elrond's study. His old friend looked up, and Bilbo continued, "The poor thing. . .Allison, I mean. . .becomes so frustrated because she sees our lips moving and hears our words, but cannot understand a word any of us say. She looked so excited when she realized that 'mae govannen' was a greeting."
Elrond smiled and gestured for his friend to sit down. Not that it should have been necessary, after seventeen years. Bilbo seated himself in one of the chairs, and the Lord of Imladris replied, "And do you think she will learn quickly, Bilbo?" The periannath smiled, his eyes lighting with laughter. Perhaps a foolish question. She spoke none of the languages of Middle-earth. They spoke not her language. If they wished to communicate, the child would have to learn quickly.
"I think, my dear Elrond, that Arwen will find it harder to keep up with her than the reverse!" Bilbo chortled. Elrond arched his brows at his friend, who explained, "The child seems to have a gift of languages. She took no time at all to get the proper pronunciation. At least for Sindarin. . .it may take her a little more time to learn Quenya. If you like, I can teach her some Westron."
"The time of the Elves is almost over, Bilbo. . .I think it unnecessary to teach her Quenya. However, if you could teach her Westron, that would be most acceptable. Where do you think she should go, when our time in Middle-earth is ended?" Elrond asked. Bilbo looked at him thoughtfully, and the Lord of Imladris continued, "I fear for her in Gondor. . .word has reached me. The Ruling Steward, Denethor, is failing."
Bilbo made no comment, and Elrond continued, "I cannot be certain of the welcome she would receive in Rohan. At this time, the best choice appears to be sending her with the dwarves, after the Council. Only, I know not if she would be welcomed by them. For weal or for woe, Allison was sent here, to Rivendell. That makes her my responsibility. I must keep her welfare in mind when I make this decision."
"Would that I could tell you that she would be welcome in the Shire. Even if young Allison was welcomed, word would reach others that a young woman lived in the Shire. . .one of the Big Folk. The peace of the Shire would be ended, and her refuge gone. I have never held you accountable for my imprisonment, but I would not send her to Mirkwood. What of Lorien? Can she not stay with Lady Galadriel?" Bilbo asked.
"Only for a time, old friend. I truly believe the dwarves to be my greatest hope. I would not trust them to deal with the One Ring, but with a helpless young woman, they would be honorable. It will take some time for everyone to reach us for the council. A few months. In the meantime, the child will grow stronger and she will learn more of this world. You are certain that she has no connection to the Ring? But is it possible that she could be a tool, an unwitting weapon of the Enemy?" Elrond asked.
"If He learned of her presence, perhaps. But why, Elrond, would Sauron care about a single, unhappy young girl? She is of no use to him. While it is possible that she can fight, I think it unlikely. I have looked at her hands, and though they are not soft, they are not the hands of a warrior, either. The child poses no threat. She is merely a frightened, confused, hurt young girl who has been sent to this world," Bilbo reassured. Elrond allowed himself a half smile, though he felt anything but comforted.
"That is what concerns me. All things occur for a reason. She has a particular purpose here. . .a land, a world unfamiliar to her. She knows nothing of us, or our language, or what is at stake. I must be certain that I am doing the right thing before I send her with anyone. I must be certain that I am not playing into the hands of the Enemy. We Elves mate for life, Bilbo, you know this. . .but we can become fond of someone in a short amount of time. Short, even for Men," Elrond replied. His mind went back eight decades, to when young Gilraen arrived with Arathorn's son. How long did it take for little Aragorn to win his heart? Seconds?
This came as no surprise to the periannath. Bilbo looked at him keenly, saying, "So now we come to the heart of the matter. You fear this child not because she is evil. . .but because of the attachment growing between her and your Arwen. You fear that when Allison leaves here, she will become vulnerable to the Enemy. . .and the Enemy will have a way to strike at you. Not because she would betray you. . .but because she will be regarded as your foster child."
Indeed. Elrond's heart stilled each time Estel arrived in Rivendell and left again. Each time, he feared that he would never see his foster son again. He lived with this fear for more than sixty years. If he sent Allison away, and she was captured by the Enemy in the process, Elrond and his sons would go to her aid. Even if they never became fond of her, they would do so. . .because she was under their protection.
Elrond was no warrior. Not any more. He was a healer now. And he knew, far too well, what would happen if orcs captured Allison. He lived with the consequences of such a capture ever since Celebrian sailed for the Undying Lands. Celebrian was an Elf. Allison was a Woman. . . what chance would she stand against the orcs? Even if Elrond himself remained behind, elves of Rivendell would attempt to free her.
The Elven Lord rubbed his hand across his brow. Seeing this, Bilbo said gently, "There is no need to make a decision now, my Lord Elrond. As was stated, she is still injured. It will take her months to recover. Tis July now. If we are fortunate, Frodo has set out from the Shire, and even now, is on his way." Elrond smiled faintly at his friend. Yes, he forgot that the months changed while he and Arwen cared for Allison.
Looking somewhat encouraged, Bilbo continued, "And as you say, I would not worry about Gandalf. He's a wily old one, that wizard. Whatever trouble he has fallen into, old Gandalf will find a way out. He's like that, you know. And he's been around longer than you, Celeborn, and Galadriel put together." Now Elrond's smile was broader as he beheld his old friend. Bilbo had unending faith in his friends. All of them.
"Indeed he is and indeed he can. Well. You have convinced me. . .for now, there is naught we may do for Lady Allison. She may not be of noble birth, but even a wounded bird needs dignity," Elrond answered. Bilbo smiled now, and Elrond continued, "And tis been my experience that there is more to healing than simply physically easing the pain and knitting the bones. Perhaps, as she grows stronger, Lady Allison would enjoy seeing Rivendell."
"I believe you are right, Master Elrond! The child possesses more than a passing curiosity, and a desire to learn. Speaking of old Gandalf, has he ever told you about the archives in Minas Tirith? Sorry was I to give to Frodo the Ring and all that went with it. But Gandalf did tell me that he received permission. . .albeit begrudging. . .from the Lord Steward Denethor to visit the archives," Bilbo observed.
Elrond was, indeed, familiar with this story, but this time, Bilbo had something different to say. Like Elrond himself, Bilbo was familiar with Gandalf's stories of Minas Tirith. The great White City, as it was called among Men.
However, Bilbo was familiar with other stories. He said, "As one of the Maiar, Gandalf has no children, save the children of his heart. That would, of course, be Frodo. . .and Aragorn. Especially since Aragorn was only twenty-five when they met. There is another. Faramir, son of Denethor. Gandalf loves him dearly, I can hear it in his voice. The boy is an inquisitive one. Tis a pity that Gandalf found it necessary to become a father to him. . .that the boy's own father sees not his worth."
Elrond looked at the periannath quickly, wondering if this was a veiled reference to Aragorn and Arwen. But Bilbo's eyes reflected only sadness for the unseen young Captain of Gondor, especially as he added, "When I left the Shire seventeen years ago, I was uncertain if I would ever see Frodo again, and I have ever loved that lad as a son. I cannot imagine the mind of Denethor. Does he not have room enough in his heart for two sons? How can any father choose between two children?" How indeed, Elrond thought sadly, how indeed?
. . .
The days passed, and with each day, Allison gained in strength. Each day, she was awake a little longer. Each day, she learned a little more Elvish. Arwen was a most patient teacher, and when Arwen was otherwise occupied, the little man Bilbo (who was, she learned, of a race called the periannath by her elven hosts) taught to speak another language of this world, called Westron. . .or she later learned, 'the common tongue.'
She also learned that the form of Elvish she was learning from Arwen was called 'Sindarin.' There was another form, called 'Quenya,' which was the Elvish equivalent of High German or Castilian Spanish. Arwen was pleased with her progress, though Allison was frustrated at how slowly she was learning. After the first time she pounding on her mattress with her fists, however, she made it a habit to control herself. Pounding on a mattress when she was recovering from a broken arm and broken ribs was not a particularly sensible thing to do.
When Allison was in this new place for about two or three weeks, Elrond's twin sons, Elrohir and Elladan, took her outside for the first time. Though her Elvish was halting at best, even Allison could tell that the pair were joking with each other, and with her. She had no idea what they were saying about half the time. Just kept smiling and hoped against hope that she wasn't doing something wrong by smiling at them.
After that, the days seemed to fly past all the faster. Bilbo kept her informed when the months changed. It seemed that in Bilbo's homeland, a place he called the Shire, they marked time a little differently than the elves. . .but not that differently from Allison did, and she found comfort in that. Thus, months passed. . .and the anniversary of the murders slipped away again.
In truth, there were other things on her mind. Her body was healing more slowly than it would have in her own time, but somehow she didn't mind. Each day, as she stayed awake a little longer, took a little more food, learned a little more Elvish, learned a little more Westron, Allison's memory of her past life began to fade, as if it was an unpleasant dream. In a way, it was a good thing, because the pain and guilt of the double murders seemed a little less here.
On the other hand, there was a part of her which feared she was betraying her brother and friend by slowly letting go. She stopped and thought about that for a time, wondering if that was a bad thing, after all. Michael never wanted her to be miserable, after all, and for a long time, she told people she was still working in the factory because she didn't have the energy to seek another job. This was true enough.
But. . .a disturbing possibility occurred to her. What if there was another reason for it? What if that idiot therapist wasn't such an idiot after all. . .and the reason Allison was still at the factory was because she was punishing herself? Was she really that much of a masochist that she deliberately remained in a job she loathed to punish herself for Michael and Flynn's deaths? She didn't want to believe that. Not in the last.
But she had a great deal of time to think, since her arrival here. Allison reflected a little ruefully when Arwen explained to her slowly that she was unconscious for three days upon her arrival here that she wanted out of her job at the factory. She just received that wish in a very unexpected way. And Allison thought about her final conversation with Undercover Elf before the freak lightning storm.
She told him that she wanted a second chance. . .if not to save Michael, then to at least tell him how much she loved him. How grateful she was to have those nineteen years before he was taken from her. Arwen bore a striking resemblance to Wendy. . . what if there was someone who bore a similar resemblance to Michael ? Or Flynn? Ava, Brody, Uncle Devin? What if they all had look-alikes in this world, and. . . What if. . . Allison stopped that thought, feeling more than a little dizzy at what just occurred to her.
Before she could follow that possibility, her still-healing arm was jolted and Allison almost passed out from the pain. Strong hands on her shoulders steadied her, and once her vision cleared of all the pretty dots, she found herself looking into the eyes of one of Elrond's friends. If her memory served, his name was Glorfindel, and Arwen told her that he was a great hero. This place, this world, had heroes and demons of its own, and Glorfindel killed one of the greatest demons, something called a Balrog.
No one really wanted to tell her what a Balrog was, and in truth, after the thing she saw since her awakening, Allison wasn't certain if she wanted to know. This world had elves and periannath (or as Bilbo called his people, Hobbits). If Balrogs frightened the elves, she was quite certain that she didn't want to know what they were. The elf looked at her with obvious concern in his kind eyes, and she managed a smile. In slow Sindarin, her companion asked, "Are you well, Lady Allison?" That was something else she was struggling with. . .being called 'Lady,' when she was not of the aristocracy.
However, it didn't seem to matter here. She was called an adopted sister of Lady Arwen, and that made her a Lady as well. One of the things Arwen taught her when Allison mastered the basics of Sindarin was the idea of fosterage. Allison knew about fosterage among the ancient Celts, but that started when a child, usually a boy, was very, very young. She was twenty-nine. Arwen smiled at that. . .then explained to her that elves lived a very, very long time. Her father, Elrond, Lord of Rivendell, was seven thousand years old.
This was mind-boggling to Allison. She couldn't imagine living that long. For that matter, she wasn't sure if she wanted to imagine living that long. However, she understood Arwen's point. In the eyes of Glorfindel, Erestor (for she now remembered that Glorfindel was not in Rivendell, but on a mysterious errand), Elrond, and others in Rivendell, Allison was a child. She wasn't the first human to live among the elves, but it was fairly certain she would be the last. It seemed the staff of Lord Elrond's house didn't believe she understood Sindarin, for they talked freely in front of her. . .and from them, she learned that the elves would be leaving Rivendell. . .or Imladris, as it was also called.
"Lady Allison? Have you reinjured yourself?" Erestor repeated. Allison blinked, having to think through the words before she smiled and shook her head in the negative. Erestor continued, looking not entirely convinced, "What ails you, my Lady?" Again, Allison shook her head, for everything after that, she didn't understand. The elf frowned thoughtfully, as if trying to figure out what would communicate his words to her.
Then he touched her cheek, and Allison was surprised to see moisture when he drew his finger back. Allison asked, wincing at the way she butchered Sindarin, "You leave?" Now comprehension appeared in Erestor's eyes. . .comprehension and compassion. The latter unsettled Allison. He put his arm around her, and led her back toward Lord Elrond's house. She was instructed to call him only 'Elrond' or 'ada,' since she was known as his foster daughter.
It was a situation that Allison found strange, for she grew up without a father. There was Devin Hurley, of course, but she wasn't entirely sure how to take Elrond. She was grateful to him, of course. . .for setting her on the road to recovery and easing her pain. But the truth was, she didn't know him very well, and thus, she was uncomfortable with calling him 'ada' or by his given name. That didn't seem very respectful.
As they began walking back, Elrond met them and Erestor began speaking rapidly, gesturing to Allison as he did so. Her new foster father's eyes reflected concern, then irritation, then finally compassion. Allison had no idea where she fit in there. Elrond said something in return. Erestor nodded and bowed to her, then Elrond turned her to face him. He said, "I apologize, my Lady Allison. Elves are not oft so rude."
As ever, he spoke clearly, enunciating each syllable, so she could understand him. While her Elvish improved during her time here, more complex conversation eluded her. Elrond paused, then said, "Our time here is ending. I seek to find a place for you, once we are gone." Our time here is ending? What did that mean? And did it have something to do with the way Arwen seemed so sad at times?
Elrond continued after a moment, "You were sent to Rivendell. You are my responsibility. I will not abandon you." Now she was starting to understand. For some reason, the elves had to leave, and she could not go with them. Elrond was trying to find a place for her. He went on, seeing the comprehension in her eyes, "I would see you safe. And able to function in this world, until you discover your purpose here."
The second thing Arwen taught Allison, after 'mae govannen,' which actually meant 'well met,' was a term equally important. 'Hannon le,' which meant 'thank you.' It was probably more impressive than that. . .probably 'my thanks to you,' but the exact translation was not important in this instance. She didn't want to leave Arwen and Elrond, nor the twins, nor did she wish to leave Bilbo.
But she couldn't go with them, for reasons unknown to her at this time. She would find out eventually. Every day, she learned a little more. Even if it was from the servants whispering. But for now, she met the eyes of the man who saved her life and took care of her while she was in Rivendell or Imladris. She met his eyes and said softly, "Hannon le." And as Arwen taught her, she dipped her head.
Elrond put his fingers under her chin, lifting her head until his eyes met hers once again. He said no words. Just smiled at her. She smiled back, feeling unaccountably proud of herself. For a moment, no words were spoken. . .then there was shouting as a horse went galloping past. Elrond pulled her out of the way, before she was ran down, and a small figure slumped off the horse and fell to the ground with a thud.
Elrond wasted not a moment. He ran to the small figure, Allison right behind him. The Lord of Rivendell looked up to see her watching with concern, and said tersely, "Find Bilbo. Go to Arwen." In that order. Allison didn't think about disobeying. . .she simply took off as quickly as her body would allow. It wasn't until much, much later, that she remembered the small body had furry feet. . .like Bilbo's. By that time, forces beyond anyone's control were at work, and Allison's fate in this new world was sealed.