A/N: O.o?
I didn't quite register that a knife was at my neck at first.
Opening my eyes, a shadowy figure leaned over me, its warm breath brushing my face.
"Don't scream," The figure that loomed in front of my vision hissed.
My first thoughts were for Ithilwen, but if I leaned over to see if she was all right my jugular vein would be sliced by the blade centimeters away from it.
Terrir crept into my mind, would death come quickly? Though I had "technically" died once, I had felt nothing.
As quick as a flash another shadow collided with the man standing above me.
The man toppled over with a groan. Gripping his rib cage.
Three other shadows leapt out onto the forest road and threw themselves onto my savior.
I slipped my hand under my cot and felt my sword scabbard, I whipped the sword out of the sheath and grabbed Ithilwen.
Legolas wasn't in his cot, nor was Aragorn, I assumed that one of them was the thign who had tackled my opressor.
I looked over at my savior, he was fighting with one of the thugs that had attacked him. The rest were curled on the forest floor crying out in pain.
Swinging a fear-paralyzed Ithilwen over my shoulder I took off running down the forest road. Though I definitely wasn't in shape, I was long-legged and rather fleet-footed.
I heard no footfalls behind me and once I was a considerable distance away from the campfire, slowed my pace. My sides aching.
"Mommy, what was that--" Ithilwen hadn't finished her sentence before I felt a heavy weight thrown against me, knocking Ithilwen and I too the rocky dirt floor.
Ithilwen began to cry as we were both bound and tied, someone straddled my back and had Ithilwen thrown over their shoulders.
I kicked and fought but to no avail; I could've sworn the rope was Elvish judging by how strong it was and ho it felt against my tender wrists.
My oppressor hauled my up by the back of my shirt and muttered something in a foreign language. "Pedich edhellen?"
Huh? That phrase sounded so familiar...Wait, it was Elvish!
"Yes," I replied to him in Sindarin.
"What buisness do you have in Mirkwood?" He asked gruffly.
"She comes as the guest of Lord Legolas," Aragorn spat.
Mauneuvered my head to see Aragorn standing in a shaft of moonlight that had streamed down onto the road. His sword was drawn and blood dripped down his brow.
The edhil stood up and drew his sword, "State your name and buisness, Edain."
"Aragorn, King of Gondor, your Lord, Legolas Thrainduilion--" Aragorn's sentence was cut off by something falling from the trees overhead.
A bowman grunted as he hit the forest floor and curled into a ball.
Legolas leapt down from the trees gracefully, "Is very angry at the way you have receieved my wife and child." His voice was low and almost gutteral as he finished his statement.
The edhil studied Legolas for a moment before bowing, "Forgive me, my lord. We knew not that you were returning."
Legolas growled as we strode to Ithilwen and I and sliced our bonds with a knife.
I kissed Legolas, "Thank you, thank you so much, Melleth Nin." I barely breathed it but I am pretty sure the march-warden heard it.
He patted Ithilwen on the head and tossed me a wink before turning to the cowed edhel.
I tended to Ithilwen as Legolas verbally kicked the shit out of the edhel in Quenya.
My limited Quenya allowed me to understand little, and that which I understood is not repeatable in mixed company.
As my eyes became adjusted to the dark I could see Aragorn leaning against a tree. His wry amused state returned at seeing us both unharmed.
Ithilwen was slightly bruised and sore, but nothing that wouldn't be healed in a day or so.
Finally, Legolas' lecture was over and several of the men that Aragorn had bested, for he had the sense not to kill them, had returned and were now standing beside the edhel.
"Now then, my family and King Aragorn are tired and would like to be able to make it to the city before midday," Legolas said.
And so our former attackers were now our escorts, we resumed our journey.
Aragorn and Legolas walked ahead, speaking in low voice.
Ithilwen rested on my hip. She was terrified of the marchwardens and clung to me so tight little crescent marks were on the nape of my neck.
I pried her fists away from my neck, "Loosen your grip, Miriel." I replied, using one of my pet names for her.
Ithilwen loosened her grip slightly, but she still jumped at the slightest sound.
One of the marchwardens, feeling pity for her, plucked several flowers from the side of the Forest Road and handed them to Ithilwen with a wink.
Ithilwen, warily took the flowers, she gazed at them, they were pure white with a scarlet center, she smiled and tucked them behind her ear.
I mouthed a thank you to the marchwarden.
He shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
The sky was turning to grey as we left the forest road and marched into the actual forest.
I felt thankful I had braided both mine and Ithilwen's hair, so it wouldn't be caught by the scratchy branches that reached out on all sides. Legolas had cut his to a shorter length shortly after we arrived in Mirkwood Forest.
We had to fight a thick curtain of vines to make even the slightest progress.
The marchwardens had knives that resembled the Spanish machete, which cut through the vines easily.
After going through a particularly dense thicket we found ourselves in an avenue lined by some sort of Birch, Dogwood hybrids in full blossom.
This avenue, instead of being dirt or stone, was close-cut grass. A pleasant change to the dead leaves and the Forest Roads weed-cracked dry dirt.
The path led to where the Forest River cut through Mirkwood, a stone bridge crossed over it, which led to a flight of natural clay stairs. If one climbed up the stairs they would see a massive expanse of stone cut into the large hill; large timbers formed a gate-way, the doors made out of thick iron bars.
The place, though majestic, was built like a fortress.
Down the river, three Elleths washed clothes in the River. Their skirts were pinned above their knees, forming make-shift pants to allow them more freedom. They chattered to one another in Sindarin, laughing and nudging one another.
One Elleth nudged her companion at the sight of us.
They stopped talking and bowed their head to Legolas. Though their eyes were pinned on Aragorn, Ithilwen and I. Most likely because of our strange dress.
I hadn't the sense to change before I left Earth, and even if I did I doubt I could find anything even midly acceptable by Elven standards.
When we reached the gate, it opened automatically. I distantly remember reading in The Hobbit that it was a magic gate.
The passageway was lit by torchlight, the day was still very young and only the servants in the Elvenking's castle were up and about.
Chambermaids and butlers passed us, staring at us awkwardly. Though Elves are known for their grace, beauty and coldness, you can still surprise them.
We were finally led into a large room, skylights were cut into the ceiling and allowed light to stream through onto two thrones.
On these thrones were two Elves.
A male Elf sat on one throne, a garland of leaves and flowers interwoven into his hair. Though no wrinkle marred his face, there was something old and wise about his features.
On the second throne a woman sat. Her hair was silver, symbolizing she was not a Mirkwood Elf. She had noble features, high cheek-bones, almond-shaped grey eyes, and pure white skin. She had the same air about her that her husband (I assumed him to be) held, though there seemed to be more pride in her.
"My mind is now at rest knowing that you have returned safely to us, my son," The man, whom I guessed was Thranduil, said warmly.
The woman rose from her seat, her silk skirt rustled as she came to Legolas and embraced him. Pressing a kiss to his cheek (though she had to stand on the tip of her toes to do so) she smiled.
Legolas embraced her, "Mother," He whispered.
She inclined her head to Aragorn, "King Aragorn, it is a comfort to know that you were with Legolas."
Aragorn bowed to the queen, smiling slightly, "It is an honor to accompany Prince Legolas on any journey."
The woman finally noticed Ithilwen and I. Though her eyes widened slightly, she showed no other signs of surprise. She turned to Legolas and said to him in Quenya, "Who are the two mortals?"
Assuming that two lowly mortals such as we would not know Elvish. Which, normally wouldn't have been incorrect, was a bit annoying. But I was tired, hungry, dirty and slightly embarrassed, my short brown hair was coming loose from it's braid, and my clothes were torn and soiled beyond repair. So I suppose anything ticked me off at the moment.
Legolas smiled weakly, "I believe you remember that before I left you intended to find a wife for me."
For the first time I saw trepidation creep onto her cold, but fair features, "Aye..."
"When you sent me on the quest to destroy the One Ring; I met Nicolette, an Elementalist and a Dragon-Rider..."
The Queen's lips parted in surprise.
"Lady Galadriel foretold that Lady Nicolette would be an important tool in our quest. And respecting her wishes; Nicolette travelled with us. During that time she and I became enamoured with one another. When we rested after the Battle for Helm's Deep; Nicolette and I were married by Gandalf," Legolas finished with the utmost calmness.
Thranduil lifted from his chair, his eyes wide, "Legolas, do you jest?"
"Nay..."
"And the child is...?" Legolas's mother began.
"Yes, she is my child."
I think his mother may have had an fit of epilepsy had King Thranduil not intervened.
"I shall have a servant arrange rooms for your company, you all must be tired from your journey. Alya and I will regather our wits while you rest and we shall meet in the dining hall at noontide. Clothing will be sent to you," Said King Thranduil with as much calmness an Elf who just learned he was a grandfather could manage.
Ithilwen stared at Alya with her wide blue eyes, her features maintaing the utterly adorable childish confusion that one sees on a child's face when they are solving a puzzle or doing a sum.
I looked at Queen Alya and saw something soften in her features as she gazed at Ithilwen.
A man-servant led our party though the winding stone tunnels to our rooms.
I knew a bit about royalty and had the sense not to protest when Legolas and I were given seperate rooms. Though I was irritated I had the feeling I was treading on thin ice.
Legolas kissed me on the cheek, "Hang in there," He whispered before he strode down the hall, leaving the servant to unlock the room while he went to his own quarters.
My annoyance faded away whenever the servant led Ithilwen and I into the room.
The ceiling was high-domed and cut in the stone were carvings of Turin and his siter-wife, Feanor forging the Silmarils and other colossal moments of Elven history.
The large four-poster scarlet-curtained bed was made of the finest mahogany wood and the bedspread had the most intricate stitching I had ever seen.
A vanity sat at the end of the other room while a balcony led out to a view of a large courtyard, except the courtyard was literally in the castle. It looked as if someone many years ago had blown a large hole in the rock. It reminded me of fancy hotels in which they had their own private greenhouses.
"They're are clothes in the wardrobe for you and your daughter, please, ring for a seamstress," The servant pointed to a string that led into the wall, "If you need any adjustments."
"Thank you," I said, barely managing to get out the words.
"One of the maids ran you a bath, it is behind that partition," The servant curtsied then left.
Ithilwen stared at the room with eyes wide; a smile creeping across her grimy face.
That reminded me, "Ithilwen, go get into the bath, I'll get some clothes for you."
"Mom, do I have to?" Ithilwen whined, leaping onto the bed.
I nodded, "Bath. Now. And don't forget to scrub your fingernails."
Ithilwen groaned and went behind the partition, I heard the sloshing of water as she bathed.
Opening the cherry wood wardrobe I nearly had a heart attack at the fine clothing.
Dresses made out of the finest materials, deep scarlets and rich gold braid. Oh heaven!
Ithilwen's dresses, though simpler, were undoubtedly fine.
I picked out a sky-blue dress with a silver belt for Ithilwen.
I myself chose a deep green dress with golden-yellow trim, I selected some simple, but lovely jewelry.
This was like playing dress-up when I was little.
Once Ithilwen got out of the bath I helped her into the dress (with much protesting from her side) and braided her hair again before slipping into the now luke-warm bath.
Though it wasn't as luxurious as one might hope, it was most definitely welcome. I felt like I was scrubbing off a second skin as I saw all of the dirt come off of me.
Once stepping out of the bath, I dried off and put on the dress.
"Mommy, you look like a princess!" Ithilwen giggled as she stretched across the bed.
I studied myself in the mirror. Though it wouldn't hurt for me to lose a few pounds, I still looked slim and curvy. Once my hair had dried a bit I put it into a bun with several curly tendrils of hair hanging down.
Though it was comparitively simple to what I guessed the Elleths of Kind Thranduil's court would look like. For a human who'd barely ever been in a dress all of her life, I looked okay.
The rest of the morning I taught Ithilwen Sindarin. She learned fast, and combined with the training of Aragorn and Legolas she had recieved on the road, she was forming sentences. Though they were grammatically incorrect, they were understandable.
I taught her various courteous greetings and farewells. There was no need to teach her manners seeing as how Cecilia was an etiquette-nut and had taught Ithilwen everything she could.
Cecilia...how I missed her and Rob! Right now, if I were on Earth we'd probably be sipping coffee behind the counter of Tony's and complaining about how if we had to lift one more box of books we'd scream.
Sighing, I laid down with Ithilwen and fell asleep.
××Ø××
A/N: Thar's Elves in them thar hills! A storm's brewing for Nicolette and her new-found family.
Anyway, history lesson!
Miriel is Elvish for Jewel-Daughter.
A Birch tree is a white-barked tree, they have relatively small trunks that are round and smooth. A Dogwood tree are these sapling-like trees with the most beautiful white blossoms. They resemble the Rohirrim flowers that grow on the graves of their kings.