Mirkwood. Aragorn almost felt relieved to be outside of Imladris.
"Estel?" the elf next to him questioned, watching him with slight concern.
"I am fine. Palanél? Are you all right?" The questioned clearly startled her, Aragorn couldn't help but notice. She met his eyes, they were cloaked, but she could see raw emotion in them. Her own eyes were less heavily cloaked; they glittered with fear and sadness.
"What is wrong?"
"Who was…" she started then stopped. Aragorn put a hand on her shoulder.
"Who was who?"
'Tell him child, ask him…' The voice floated through her head, Bridget's own voice took on more courage.
"Who was Celebrían?" She felt more than saw Legolas stiffen.
"Why do you ask?"
"I must know."
"She was Elrond's wife, Elladan and Elrohir's mother."
"Galadriel's daughter…I thought she looked familiar…" she muttered. Aragorn raised an eyebrow but did not comment, deciding to let it lie. Legolas led them along the path, stopping every so often to read the signals carved into trees. He smiled at Bridget's perplexed look as she studied each symbol.
"That is Tathar's symbol; he has been through here about two days ago. Come, the palace is just ahead. She nodded, mentally beginning the sketch and description for her journal. She saw a set of looming gates ahead, and watched with wide eyes as the Prince stepped forward.
"Edro!" he commanded. Bridget watched in awe as the gated swung pen and she, Aragorn, and Legolas stepped inside. Legolas led them quickly to their rooms.
"Palanél, are you ready?"
"Ready?"
"Well, my father can be slightly more imposing in his own halls…" Bridget nodded, the king had been scary enough in Imladris, she was slightly nervous to see him again. She changed into fresh leggings and a dress tunic Arwen had given her and followed the elf prince and the ranger down the hall. A tall elf stepped into their path.
"My prince, welcome home!" he glanced at Aragorn and at Bridget, "My, my, you do bring such interesting toys home!"
"Indeed he does," Bridget said regally, "When were you brought it?"
"Wit and leggings are not an attractive tribute in a girl."
"Rudeness is not an attractive tribute in anyone." The elf glared at her, and Estel and Legolas dragged her away.
"Bridget!"
"Yes?" Aragorn sighed and rolled his eyes.
"You are a dangerous young girl you know that?"
"Mhhmm."
"Oh, Palanél?"
"Yes Legolas?"
"I forgot to mention, father doesn't like humans very much."
"Fan-bloody-tastic…" she muttered. Legolas and Aragorn raised perplexed eyebrows at her use of English but didn't comment, they entered the dining hall.
"Mirkwood is a bloody cave!" she muttered in English, ignoring the odd looks from her companions and the not-so-friendly-elves around her. A few sniffed and glared, and she found herself shifting unconsciously close to Estel.
"Relax tithen pen, hush," the man murmured reassuringly, squeezing her shoulder. She nearly fled when the king approached.
"Estel?" she squeaked.
"Hush, do not worry, the King is all bark and no bite."
"Gee, thanks."
"G-ii?"
"I'll explain later."
"Very Well." She nodded at him as the King approached, her eyes blinking furiously.
"Father."
"Legolas, why are there humans in my realm."
"They are friends of mine, father, you know Estel, this is his young cousin, the one who was ambushed by orcs just outside of her home?"
"Ah yes, now I remember, can she speak yet?"
"Yes, she can speak," Estel answered.
"Palanél?"
"Erm…well met, King Thranduil," she mumbled. The King eyed her.
"Linnor was displeased with her this day," Thranduil remarked.
"She can speak fluent elvish and is also displeased with the elf you call Linnor," Bridget said testily, Legolas winced, if he had learned one thing it was that she had a temper to match Galadriel's and a rebellious streak to match Arwen's.
"Hold your tongue, Palanél cousin of Estel. Remove yourself from my sight!"
"With pleasure," she snapped, turning on her heel and stalking with grace from the hall. Tears streaked down her cheeks, she had truly never been so embarrassed in her life. That-that-jerk of an elf! She fumed silently, storming through the hall, she crashed into an elf.
"Sorry," she muttered. A hand grabbed her arm and the elf leered at her.
"Well, well, if I don't have the Prince's pet within my grasp. You are quite pretty, for a human…" he told her. Bridget could smell liquor on his breath.
"Let me go you atrocious excuse for an elf!"
"You are in no position, dear human, to be making demands." The elf moved closer, so that his face was only inches from hers. "Your mine human, and that cousin of yours too," he hissed before turning and striding quickly down the hall. Bridget stared after him in shock, shaking slightly in anger, fear, and just plain old shock. She heard footsteps coming down the hall and turned, it was Estel. She nearly fainted with relief.
"Tithen pen, what are you doing here?" he whispered.
"Nothing," she replied. "I just happened to come this way when I was erm…leaving." Estel laughed.
"Come on, I'll take you back to your room."
"Estel?" she asked as they were walking, "Do you know Linnor?"
"No, he was once an esteemed minstrel in Thranduil's court, she sung often the tale of Túrin and Beleg, but something happened, I am not sure what, that made him stop singing all happy tales. He would only sing of woe, so the King bade him stop singing until he could sing happily again."
"Wow that is awful…"
"Now, in return for that tale why don't you tell me what G-ii means!"
"I'm not sure, it is a sort of saying where we come from, slang that has no definition, rather like "the willies"."
"The willies?" Bridget had to stifle a giggle at the heavily accented use of English.
"What?"
"It was just, very accented!" she squeaked in laughter. He rolled his eyes but nodded, taking her hand and leading her up the stares to her chambers. She sat down on the bed a drew her knees to her chest.
"I don't like Thranduil…" she muttered.
"You'll come to like him, I did. Legolas loves his father; you just have to earn the King's trust."
"I hope it is soon. Oh! Erestor said I must learn more history, how about the tale of Túrin and Beleg?"
"Very well, it is a sad tale though."
"I would like to learn it," she replied, leaning back against the bed. He nodded and began the tale. When he reached the part about Beleg spotting Túrin's capture he realized that Bridget had dozed off. He smiled and moved her down the bed, covering her with the blanket. He sighed.
"Maer fuin, tithen pen." She muttered something sleepily, but it was in English so of course he didn't understand it. Shaking his head he walked out of the room and down the stairs to find Legolas, the servants pointed him towards the back garden. He wound his way through the twisted gardens to the center; he knew the path by heart, so he didn't get tangled up in the weeds. He saw his friend sitting on the base of a fountain, one hand trailing lazily in the water.
"Legolas?" he said worriedly.
"She's back."
"Who Legolas?"
"Her name is Miniel, first daughter of Thiad, one of my father's councilors. It was thought…years ago that we should be wed, as far as I know she went off to marry a Galadhrim, but she's back, apparently it was decided they should not marry. So she is back, and her father intends to keep the promise my mother gave him. Years ago, when his wife died my mother promised him that one of her children would marry one of hers. That is me, I have no siblings. I must marry her. Estel, I can't."
"Legolas," he sat down in front of his friend, "surely it can be stopped…"
"It was the promise of an elven queen; it cannot be broken without shaming her memory. So I will marry Miniel, she is a….nice girl." Aragorn could here the gentle tremor in his voice.
"I am sorry, mellon-nîn…" he said softly. The elf prince shook his head and moved closer to the human, laying his head against his friends shoulder.
"I am frightened mellon nin," he said truthfully.
-O-o-O-o-O-
Images danced across her mind, pain, suffering that wasn't hers. A familiar face entered the distorted shapes and she grasped the image within her mind. A hand grasped her, causing slight pain and panic. But why was she afraid, it was Elladan who gripped her hand, no one to fear. Panic flew through her as she fell into someone's arms. Elrohir. They were speaking, speaking in Sindarin; Bridget closed her eyes and tried to focus on his words.
"Naneth, stay with us, you are safe…." Naneth, Bridget was confused, a blood streaked swathe of blonde hair entered her line of vision. It was her hair. The thought made her shiver, she didn't have blonde hair, and why would it be bloody? The images left, Elrond was standing over her, tears streaking down his own face.
"Celebrían…" he whispered brokenly. Bridget's whole body shook, she wanted to tell him she was fine. Suddenly a new vision passed through her eyes. Elladan was standing stock still, his eyes meeting an unseen elf's.
"Give me my brother and Palanél," his voice was deadly.
"No, Mirkwood is mine now! Mine! And they are our prize entertainment; I have a plan for him along with the Prince." A hideous cackle followed. Bridget strained to see who was speaking, but she was unable to do so. She saw an arrow wiz through the air and strike the elf.
"Elladan!" she screamed.
"Elladan!" the fear in her own voice shocked her. She heard footsteps and some step into the room.
"Bridgie, what's the matter?"
"Estel?" she sat up, her hand was trembling. He glanced worriedly at her.
"What is wrong?"
"I need to hear what happened to Celebrían, and the rest of the tale of Túrin and Beleg."
"Why?"
"Because, I fear someone may try to repeat it."
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Sort of a cliffy? Not really, so. I know how many people read my chapters (you have to love story stats) so, for just once, I would like EVERYONE who reads this to review, do whatever you want. Applause? Flames? Tar and Feathers?
Tithen pen-little one
Mellon nin- my friend
Maer fuin- sleep well