A/N: I know! A quick update...not! I've been working on these bloody 7 pages for THREE MONTHS! I'm so lazy, yes I am...heheheheh...

Disclaimer: I don't own LotR, too bad... --


Chapter 3: Many Explanations

'How are you…?'

Arinya stared at the Gandalf framed in the doorway, holding a small tray heavily laden with elven foods in his hands.

He smiled, and set it on the carved nightstand. 'Most servants are busy at the moment, so I took it upon myself to bring this up to you.'

No response.

He tried again. 'What is your name, child?'

Arinya floundered amidst possiblities, all of which seemed to come from a choice: to tell, or not to tell. There were mysteries, locked doors behind both, and she had never cared much for gambling.

But now, the very choice held her future in Middle Earth in its hand. Well, here goes nothing…

'Arinya. My name is Arinya.'

She watched her name descend through the unspoken levels of judgement in his eyes, very rightly so indeed. It was not an elven name, nor a Gondorian name, nor one of Rohirrim, which only left…

Trickles of blood ran down her chin, seeping through the neat slit she had made on her lips. It only left the Mordorian names, which meant she had just leapt from the frying pan and into the fire.

But somehow, somewhere deep within Gandalf's eyes (though she didn't notice it at the time), it passed the test. He did notice the little river of crimson running, though.

'Arinya, you're bleeding,' he said, pure, unadultered concern shining like candle's light down on her terrified self.

A sigh of relief almost slipped past her lips, before she forcefully pushed it away along with the blood, and replied using her polite, thoroughbred reply. 'I am all right, thank you.'

Gandalf smiled. For a moment he had thought she had feared him, and would keep him away, but it was not so, and it would make his job much easier. 'Where are you from, Arinya?'

A small droplet ran down her chin again. Here it was again. The choice. To trust or not to trust. To tell or not to tell.

Well, it was a 'yes' she could never have passed up.

'Gandalf…'


'There was no lie in her eyes.'

Elrond snapped a large, leatherbound book shut and gave his friend an irritated stare. 'How do you know this? She has not as of now presented proof that everything that happened to her is true. Mordorian spies are skilled at lying, and humans did always have a weak spot in your heart. Sauron could be playing us false, looking into the heart of Imladris at this instant.'

'I do not think she is one of the enemy,' Gandalf reapeated stolidly, striding over to join Elrond's pacing.

The two immortals marched in silence among the shelves, occasionally staring up at the endless rows of books, but more often at the floor. This was a time not for impulse or quickheadedness, but for deliberation, for one wrong step could send the fate of Middle Earth careening into the darkness.

Finally, when the rows of books came to an end, the two men stopped their pace, and Elrond turned to Gandalf. 'I will trust her…for the time being. She will be allowed to wander around the house, but not without a maid.'

He paused for a second, then added, 'She is also allowed to some the banquet welcoming the hobbits.'

Gandalf smiled inwardly. So the long trip to the library had not been in vain.

'Well, then, old friend, I believe I should be checking her again, and telling her of this good news,' he said, and with a little nod, swept out of the Elrond's sight.

Said elf sighed. Did I make the right choice?

The wizard stepped through the doorway of the hospital just in time to see Frodo's eyes open. All thoughts of Arinya hurried out of his head, and he rushed over to the hobbit's bedside.

Arinya watched the whole scene with no little amount of amusement, stemming not from the strangeness of Gandalf actually hurrying, but the familiarity of the it. The whole Gandalf-goes-over-and-talks-to-Frodo scene was nothing new to her, as she had seen the movie several times, courtesy of her action-addicted brother.

None of those times, however, I had actually thought I would be in it, she thought, a frown crossing her brow. And if it was the movie version she had accidentally landed in, then Elrond was due any moment…

'Welcome to Rivendell, Frodo Baggins,' Elrond said benevolently. Right on schedule.

The next thing she knew, his eyes were on her instead of the bedridden hobbit They were a piercing chocolate brown, pools of time passing and coming. Though they contained only neutrality, Arinya found them somewhat… riveting.

It was Elrond who spoke first. 'You are welcome here as long as you like, Lady Arinya. The house's rooms and surrounding areas are welcome to you.'

He bowed his head slightly, and turned to the door.

'Lord Elrond.'

Elrond pursed his lips only for a second, and swiveled back. Her voice… it had an unnatural intensity, as well as the high octaves of nerves.

'Thank you for letting me stay here,' she murmured, her voice quavering from the first word.

His eyes softened slightly. At least she did not appear dangerous. With a nod of acknowledgement, he exited, his robes swishing behind.

Arinya stared absently into space, thoughts revolving around her head. I can wander?

She was knocked out of her reverie when the space she had stared a hole through was occupied. It was Gandalf, who had finally remembered her presence in the hospice. He smiled at her, knowing that her words to Elrond had not been wasted.

'Well,' he said, a sigh escaping his lips, 'this has indeed been an interesting afternoon.'

'Do you you know, Lord Gandalf, who my rescuer was?' Arinya asked, a small light entering her eyes. 'I want to thank them for bringing me life again.'

Gandalf smiled. Humans did hold a weak spot in his heart. 'It was the Lady Arwen, child. Now rest, and wait for your maid.'

Arinya's eyes were still gigantic circles when Gandalf left. ARWEN?

A chuckle disturbed her thoughts. 'You look funny like that.'

She turned, and saw Frodo Baggins grinning at her. A smile back was all it took to make the little hobbit's face light up like a Christmas tree.

He had very few people to smile at on the way here, she thought, her heart going out to him. His few experiences must be worse than my whole life already.

'My name's Frodo Baggins. You?'

'Arinya. A pleasure to meet you.'

Frodo's brows curled thoughtfully. 'Arinya's a pretty name, you know. You sound like you don't like it.'

Her smile twitched in amusement. He was indeed a sensitive little hobbit. 'Sort of… it's rather strange to be named that back in…'

Arinya stopped herself just in time. How on earth (well, Middle Earth) could she have let her little secret slip? Who knew what horrors one teeny tiny slip could do?

'… in my country,' she finished lamely.

Frodo sat up, adjusted the flimsy bedcovers, and answered benignly, 'Frodo's definitely not a common name in the Shire, and I like it. You just have to like yourself to like your name.'

Arinya stared downwards, gripping the sheet tightly. Like herself? As if. Worse, no one else liked her either. It was one thing not to love yourself.

It was worse, Arinya thought, not to be cared for by others.

Thankfully, the whole embarrassing scenario was popped by a maid who had appeared unnoticed by the either of the two hospitalized, and was now speaking to Arinya. Said girl was only half paying attention.

'The Lord Elrond says that you are allowed to wander the house as soon as your were ready, so I brought over a dress… my lady?'

Arinya, staring into space, only just noticed the maid in time. 'Oh, erm… yes, thank you.'

The maid smiled. 'Would you like to put it on?'

Arinya turned to Frodo, who was half grinning. 'Go on, try it on.' She blushed, and decided to take his advice, wiping all the traces of their previous conversation from her mind.

'The hospice baths are on the left, lady…?'

'Arinya,' she replied. 'Though it would be nice to drop the 'lady', if you please.'

'Well then, Arinya, my name is Mela, and it would be nice if you did call me 'lady',' Mela said jokingly, a smile on her face.

Arinya stifled a chuckle as she stood on as-of-yet unsteady legs. Holding onto the bedboard for support, she frowned. It seemed as though the long sleep had numbed her legs to the extreme, rendering rather useless.

'Do you need help, Arinya?' Mela looked at her concernedly. Arinya also felt Frodo's eyes on her.

'Ah, no, but thanks anyway.' She snatched up the dress, and almost tripping into the baths, snapped the engraved door shut. Embarrassing situations seemed to dog her like shadows.

Turning away from the door with a sigh, Arinya took in the expanse of the bathing room. A gasp pushed itself out of her throat. Gilt ceilings, tiled walls, all covered with carvings of elvesin every which position… Even her parents' house didn't have anything this elaborate…

She banged herself lightly on the head, and muttered, 'Enough thoughts about home. I'm going to enjoy this.'

The sheet-like hospice robe slithered down her body, and she stepped into the already filled tub.

A little groan followed the step into the tub. Oh… she had never felt something this nice since…when? The water parted gracefully as she sank in, staring at the beautifully carved ceiling with unseeing eyes. Maybe it was just the fatigue and dirt talking…?

One hand lazily rubbed the strange solution she assumed the elves used as shampoo, while the other traced circles in the bubbles, silently wishing everything would just melt away and leave her in the bathtub forever.

Time must have flown out the window like the wind, because for Arinya, it seemed as though only a second had passed in the warm, soothing water before Mela was calling to her from the other side of the door.

'Arinya? Are you all right? Do you need help?'

Hastily wiping the last soap suds off her glowing, scrubbed skin, she called back. 'Yes, thank you. I'll be out in a bit.'

Arinya exhaled slowly, and stepped out of the excruciatingly inviting tub. She winced as the cold air nipped at her flesh, and quickly draped a thin towel over herself. Ah, the joys of getting a cold in Middle Earth.

Her body stopped shaking. Middle Earth? Oh, right, the world she was currently stuck in. The world she wanted to be in. Or did she?

A small pang of homesickness hit her like a bullet of rain; unexpected and slightly hurtful. She left all that was familiar to her, cold, but familiar anyways, to what, a somewhere that existed in a book written by a someone?

Arinya slumped into a chair. Why did everything have to be so complicated in life?

Stop thinking about home! It's only going to be worse, she admonished herself. Shaking her head slowly, she pushed all the thoughts out of her mind. Let them get stored up, and explode later. For now, she needed peace.

Deciding quickly that a towel would definitely not do in the company of others, Arinya turned to the dress.

A thousands were be sung at once, a million instruments played, yet all blended into one singular melody that pulsed in the dress. Arinya almost reeled when she reverently touched the dress. It seemed like it was made for her, tailored for her, right just for her.

Which was probably a crazy thought, since Rivendell would not likely have an unworn dress, considering all the womenfolk.

Still, it felt it felt every bit as wonderful indulging her imagination as that bath…

And the dress wasn't even princess material; nowhere near what Arwen wore in the movies. It had a plain, square neckline embroidered with little bead lilies; the wrist-long, slightly flared sleeves sharing the pattern. The entire gown was a pine green, which neatly accentuated the flowers blooming on the linen.

When Arinya slipped it on, a breathy sigh escaped her lips. It even molded to her body.

Striding up to the mirror, she let out a chuckle. This looked even better than the Versace and Gucci articles that her mother always insisted that she wear. Not that they looked good, of course.

She shook her head for the second time that day.

Thinking about home again, eh, Arinya? Wasn't she pathetic? Even her own mind teased her.

Time trickled away as Arinya stared unseeingly into the mirror, setting her mouth in a straight line. No more thinking, well, at least about her past world. But even after the train of thought passed, she stood still, just staring at the mirror at nothingness.

At last, when almost all the bubbles had faded from the bathtub, Arinya snapped out of her trance-like stupor, and strode, flustered, out the door.

I must be going crazy...


A/N: Yeah! D'ya like it or not? Aaaanyways, I'll only be updating this story once every three weeks, as I'll be posting several new stories, and I'll need to spiff those up too. On clear skies...hmm...it means about 17 chapters per story per year. Aargh! So scary! But anyways, REVIEW!