The rooms they were led in were separate. Maia and Lori were escorted down the open hallways by a few elven women, while Kyle was led in the opposite direction.
With all the courtyards, two-story pavilions, and stairs winding left and right like walking through a city. He watched Elrond murmur in his dialect to the male servants, including Lindir, before turning to Kyle. "Lindir, Voronwë, and Rimdur will have you cleaned up and settled in a suitable room of my personal choosing. We shall see you shortly, Kyle Dainson."
Then, without another word, the Elf Lord departed.
"If you would follow us, Master Kyle..." said Lindir.
Kyle followed the three male elves down the bend of a bright hall which was open on the left side, revealing the valley and the rest of Rivendell.
It was only a minute until he found himself entering a large bedroom with oak floors and amber walls that seemed to glow with a golden tinge. The bed was large with canopy drapes at the center near the wall, two drawers on either side, a chest and a wardrobe stand together in the corner near the opening, which revealed a wide-stretched balcony facing the twilight horizon washed with golden sunlight. In another entry, which was likely the bathroom, was a brass-made tub and a stand holding a water bowl, along with a long mirror on the wall. It was very old-fashioned, and at the same time, fancy.
The room was three times the size of his bedroom back at home. It could be fit for a king!
"This is your guest room?" Kyle gaped in obvious wonder. With blood and dirt splashed all over him, he felt completely out of place, like a fly on a lemon cake.
"This room belonged to others in the past," explained Lindir. "First, when they were children, Elladan and Elrohir, the sons of Elrond. His wards from long past, and most recently, his foster-son, Estel, who only just come-of-age and currently has no need of it during his travels. My Lord Elrond thought it would only be fitting that this be used by another to fill in its vacancy, even if it be temporary."
Kyle smiled. "Cool." I'm definitely getting used to this.
When the room was empty, Maia stripped away her shorts, jerkin vest and blouse, and cowboy boots until all her clothes were tossed in a pile near her backpack, which lay against this burgundy colored canopy bed.
It felt strange to be naked, the air feeling so cool and soft against her sticky skin. She really stank; her hair felt greasy and messy. Once she dipped her bare legs into the hot water of the tub, her skin stung as the filth began to instantly wash away, but she groaned loudly in bliss and content when sliding further into the steaming water.
"Ah...God," she sighed, sinking straight into the water until her head went under. When she resurfaced, her scalp stinging from the hot water and her long hair clinging to her neck like a heavy mop, she groaned, "Yaaaasssss..." She ran both her hands over her wet hair and reached over for an oil bottle, which in her mind closely resembled shampoo.
Four weeks of no bath since the night in Bag End made this tub heaven on earth! Dirt began floating in the clean water as she began scrubbing herself raw to get it all off. She especially loved how the water smelled like flowers. She never wanted to get out! If only the dwarves weren't so distrustful, they were really missing out on this luxurious feeling. Though she felt a little guilty for snapping at them earlier, it was worth it. When she comes out to meet them, all clean and fresh, she was sure that no one would complain.
The three elleth maidens, who introduced themselves as Maerwen, Vendethiel, and Alassë, had led Maia and Lori in the same guest room and had prepared them a bath in these large brass bath tubs steamed with hot water. After Maia insisted on bathing alone, she knew that Lori had always needed assistance in scrubbing. As if reading her thoughts, the three elven women were more than happy to wash little Lori, who in return looked thrilled to be gaining the attention of these tall beauties.
Watching them escort Lori in another nearby room across the hallway outside, Alassë had set the bath salts and oils down near the tub, before telling Maia that if she needed anything, the washroom they will be in was literally facing the doorway of this bedroom. Which was good, because from over there, Maia can hear Lori's high-pitched giggles and splashing. She smiled, knowing her little sister was ticklish and was probably playing with bubbles as those elleths were scrubbing her hair.
As Maia lay in the tub, leaning her head back, she stared at the domelike ceiling, which shined from the open sunlight, and sighed as her body relaxed.
But the wheels in her head were turning like a ticking clock ready to fall apart.
For the whole time, she couldn't get the thought out of her head, ever since she arrived at this place, listened to the elves speak her family's code language (which turned out to be Elvish), and then heard Lord Elrond compliment her name as a title of a bunch of ancient spirits, all of which had come from the "imagination" of Arthur Dainson, whom she now began to believe had something to do with Middle Earth.
Was it possible?
But Dad's native country is New Zealand, her brain screamed. Mom met him in New Zealand while studying abroad.
But that's it, isn't it? the other half of her mind warned. What else do you know about him? His childhood? Who were his parents...my grandparents? What he did for a living before he met Mom? Where else had he probably lived in? Where did he get all those scars and tattoos?
That last question had been the same question Maia had thought for her whole life, and in her whole life, her father never gave an answer. If her mom knew, she never gave a real answer either.
Maia closed her eyes and tried to recall the many scars that were embedded in her dad's back and torso like whiplashes, claw marks, and stab wounds (on his shoulders and hips, she could have sworn those faces marks that resembled bruises looked like bite marks). He also had a scar on his face, just along the jaw line, thin and faded white as though drawn from a knife. Since her dad always wore a few days growth of beard that resembled Kili's stubble at best, he probably tried to keep the scar slightly hidden. And his black hair was shoulder-length long, but when pulled back into a ponytail, there was a red brand scarred at the back of his neck.
Maia remembered when he carried her around when she was little. While wrapping her arms around his neck, her hands had felt the scar-tissue of the brand just at the base along his spine. She remembered how her father stiffened when her hand touched it, but then would relax as though he had briefly forgotten where he was and who he was with.
"Daddy, where did you get that scar on your neck? Was it the same place where you got the other scars?" asked a six year-old Maia, as he was driving her home from kindergarten in their pickup truck. She sat in front seat, her feet propped on the dashboard as she wedged her backpack between her knees.
Arthur stiffened at her innocent question, tightening his grip on the wheel. At first, she thought he was going to snap at her, but he only sighed, looking at the road as he drove. "Yes, Maia...but it was a long time ago. A dark memory. Take your feet off the dash," he added, glancing at her sternly.
Maia obediently removed her feet. "Who, Daddy? What happened?"
His icy gray eyes became distant and sad like a brewing rainstorm, silent for a long time as they reflected from the car windows, gazing along the long-ranged roads of Texas. Finally, instead of answering, he said, "You got homework tonight?"
"Daddy, why do you change the subject...?"
"Maia, will you just leave it alone?!" Arthur slapped the wheel with a snarl, causing Maia to jump. "It doesn't matter anymore, so just leave it!" Her lip trembled.
"Sorry!" she squeaked, her eyes filling with tears. She didn't want to get into trouble. She didn't want him to be mad at her. "M'sorry."
Then her father's anger turned into a sad regret. He reached over to stroke her hair as he drove. "No, I'm sorry...I'm sorry, baby. Don't cry. Hey..." He turned to look her in the eye. "I'm not mad. I'm sorry I snapped at you. Alright?"
Maia sniffed and nodded, biting her lip. He looked like he was going to say something else, but thought better about it and looked away, continuing to drive in silence. After a while, she listened to him murmur, "Believe me when I say...that there are some things that are best left forgotten. Maybe, one day when you are older..." He paused and then clenched his jaw, shaking his head. "Maybe not."
Maia shyly turned to her daddy, who was still gazing out the windshield. She already knew the answer, but she wanted to ask anyway. "Do you love me, Daddy?" she said in a small voice.
He didn't look at her, but his eyes seemed to shine more brightly. But he never cried, Maia knew. She had never known him to cry, but this was pretty close to it, and it broke her heart.
He swallowed, still gazing ahead. "You know that I do," he said softly.
Just to give her old man some peace of mind, Maia never asked again. Not directly, anyway. It didn't stop her from wondering about it, or asking her mom. It certainly didn't stop Kyle, once he was old enough to truly notice their dad's scars and mottled tattoos. It was a topic she and her brother kept to themselves, making up stories of how Arthur got his marks and how it probably affected him psychologically.
Working as an architect, he also had a passion for fantasy. When he met their mother, they were both studying as artists from two different countries, but living in New Zealand made him an epic fantasy sketcher, though sadly not a painter like Laura. For as long as Maia can remember, her father always seemed to make up stories about wizards, elves, dwarves, halflings...Halflings! He never used the word 'hobbit,' which would be likely why the term had never been familiar to her, Kyle, or Lori. He did make up places that he named for his drawings, like his own 'shire,' Rivendell, Valinor...
It was surprising that Arthur Dainson was not a fantasy novelist for coming up with such imaginary names...if they had been made up by him at all.
Then, ever since Maia and Kyle were little, he would take them outside to play, but playing outside at times seemed like base training to her. She didn't mind it much, enjoying most of the running, dodging, and lifting that were involved, but as she got older, her attention became more focused on her art hobbies, horse riding, and young adult interests like make-up, texting, and cute boys. Half the time, she would sit at the side of their backyard while watching Dad and Kyle spar with sturdy sticks, or (strangely) play with a wooden boomerang instead of a plastic frisbee. Laura kept warning that using a wooden boomerang could be dangerous, but Kyle as a ball player was consistent in strategically exercising his hands.
Kyle became quick on his feet, a really good sparrer, and an impulsive catcher, which became a good advantage on his school baseball team. Maia had sparred quite a few times, well enough until her reflexes settled with a good amount of speed in order to avoid getting bruised or whacked. Her confidence in her full potential at present, though, did not level as much as it did before. Her feet were already quick because of her dance lessons, but not having done it in a long while, she had no way of knowing if she was still any good like her kid brother.
When Lori was born, as soon as she started walking and running, she started getting involved in their outside activities, though it had been mostly running and dodging. Laura joined in their games, too. The whole family would have fun outside, making up obstacles and learning self-defense. They had been fun times...until one day their dad just left.
There was a knock at the entrance. "Miss?"
Maia opened her eyes and turned her head to see Maerwen standing at the doorway. "Oh, hey! Come in!"
"I have selected a dress for you," said Maerwen, seeming to glide into the room with her elvish grace (Maia still can't get over that). Laying out the long dress on the bed, she added, "Blue, like the midday sky. The color will suit you best."
"Oh, uh...thanks," said Maia, blushing as she peered over the tub at the dress laid out. "It looks very nice. But...you didn't have to do that."
Maerwen shook her head with a smile. "Nonsense. Lord Elrond bids that you and your sister be dressed for dinner like the ladies that you are. This is a gift, Miss Maia. I promise you that it will meet your satisfaction."
"Oh, I believe you," smiled Maia. Twisting her hair to squeeze water out, she reached over for the nearby towel set out and wrapped it around her body before standing up. Once she stepped over, Maerwen came over and wrapped another towel around her, drying it with slim but firm hands like a professional hairstylist. Up close, Maerwen's facials seemed smooth and elegant, though slightly feline. Her skin seeming to glow like all the other elves.
"How's Lori?" Maia asked, as the elf dried her hair.
"Enjoying herself. Alassë and Vendethiel are probably being splashed with bubbles as we speak." Maerwen chuckled. "The child has a heart of happiness and a fëa that could run a hundred lifetimes. Laureline...like a Laurel tree, made of golden branches that grow ever so lively for the promise of honor and victory. Like one of the Two Trees of Light. It is beautiful name for such a beautiful child."
Wow, who knew?
"Yeah, well..." Maia smiled, and shrugged. "We just sort of named her after my mom," she admitted, "whose name is Laura. Everyone just calls her 'Lori' for short, since she had trouble pronouncing it as a toddler. The name also means 'kind, sweet, loving,' and 'the one you love all your life' or something. I googled it once and it turned out she fits all those traits."
"Googled?" The elleth was confused.
"Yeah, it's a website..."
"A spider's web?"
"No, no, it's a program, like..." Maia winced. "Uh, never mind. It'll take a while to explain. I just looked it up at one point, that's all."
"Your sister also seemed to carry a sorrow within her. She mentioned that she had lost a precious toy of hers very recently."
"Yeah, her teddy bear. She's always carried it with her, wherever she goes, pretending that it's her best friend. That bear's probably decades old. First, it was my mom's, then it was mine, then my brother's, then Lori's. Anyway, just before we got here, we were being chased by these huge wolves called wargs, and everything just happened really fast. She dropped Teddy by accident, but a warg got him and ran off with the bear like a chew toy before we could do anything." Maia winced. "We're really sad to see it go. I just can't believe it was from a pack of bear-sized wolves, of all things! So far this place is keeping Lori distracted, and I'm just hoping it will help her forget about it for a while, you know?"
"I understand. Come." Maerwen gently led her to the table holding a mirror and sat her in a stool, removing the towel from her long hair. She picked up a nearby comb and starting brushing, the bristles dragging smoothly through her tangles like a soothing stroke across her scalp. Such fluid strokes of the comb made Maia feel sleepy. It seemed like forever since the last time someone else brushed her hair.
While Maerwen brushed her hair until it was almost dry, Maia pondered with uneasiness on whether to share her suspicions with Kyle and Lori.
In the end, after Maerwen had pinned two thin braids like a crown around her head and then started helping her into her long sky-blue elvish dress-tying the strings of the corset behind her, which was lacing with silver and gold lines that flowed over the loose blue fabric skirts over white, the heart-shaped neckline tightened around the center to reveal a little bosom, her sleeve slit up along her arms up to her elbows, before flowing like silvery curtains just past her fingers-the eldest Dainson sibling decided to keep them to herself for now.
While Maia did not suspect it, not once did either elf maiden mention the flicker of gold light in her and Lori's eyes.
It had taken more than twenty minutes to wash out all the warg blood and fur from Kyle's hair. Using a mixture bathing oils and soap, he dug his fingers through his mop of black hair as he ducked under the water of the tub until it turned red. Later, he was given a silver velvety tunic with black leather breaches and proper sized boots that were surprisingly light-padded but comfortable. Elvish boots, he figured.
Looking in the mirror, Kyle noticed how much his hair was growing out, just curling about an inch above his shoulders, his bangs covering his eyebrows. He blew the strands up, letting it float and smirked. To think that he had been about to get a haircut not long after the day Maia got her letter to Baylor University. He thought about that night with the orcs and gulped.
Ever since he saw what an orc looks like on the wargs, matching the description of the freaky-looking ghouls chasing him to his farmhouse's front door from the backyard...ever since he observed the black blood staining the dwarves' weapons when they stabbed that orc...matching the blood on Maia's hand when she stabbed the orc in the eye at their farmhouse...matching the black muck that the police had found all over the house in the crime scene all those months ago...
While Kyle had made up many possibilities of what happened to his dad nearly a year ago, he had now come up with a new one that seemed to make the most sense (and the most unrealistic, yet now very possible): Was Dad kidnapped by orcs? Holy shit, if he was, that could mean he could be here!
On this journey, Kyle did have a nightmare about the orcs, whom he thought were the ghouls at the farmhouse. His dad had been in it. He had always dismissed them as dreams his own mind made up, like he was always taught, but...he, Maia, and Lori had also had that dream of the many visions and voices of the Lonely Mountain, fire, desolation, a shiny light that could be the portal...His mind was jumbled with confusion.
When it came to dreams, he could no longer tell what was real and what wasn't, because ever since they popped in the Shire, the things his own mind could come with never made sense anymore. It was like their supernatural arrival to another world had triggered something that had never happened before back at home...
Is Lori right? Is this superpowers we're talking about...or something else?
"Hey, Kyle, you ready?" Maia voice sounded from the doorway.
Turning around, he started in surprise to see both his big sister and little sister standing at the doorway of his room, the elves clearly waiting outside.
"Wow! That's...a bit much for one dinner, isn't is? More like for prom!" exclaimed Kyle when noticing Maia and Lori's dresses. "You really got dolled up!"
Maia rolled her eyes. "Very funny. And hey, you look quite the man-doll yourself...minus the man look!"
"Yo, respect the image! I'm wearing normal-sized pants, for once. I had to peel my jeans off my skin and my other breeches just drags past my heels, making me look like a hobo getting Good Will from Shrek. It's a bit unsophisticated, ya know?"
"Believe me, we share your pain, little bro, but don't tell Bilbo that. He worked hard to get you human sized pants at all. You ready yet? They're leading us to the others now."
"Yeah, yeah..." Kyle walked over and followed them out of the sleeping quarters and into the halls.
"Sparky, what d'ya think?" said Lori, twirling her small, light-violet dress that seemed to shimmer a taint of dark blue in the lighting. "Now I'm a pretty elf, too!"
"Nope, not an elf, but you are very pretty!"
"I can pretend to be an elf!"
"Sure, a little elf with round ears and curly hair. You ever notice that small non-detail about them?"
"Shh," Maia nudged them both playfully. "Keep it down! They might have sharp hearing!"
"Oh, they do," confirmed Kyle, smirking. "They also have sharp eyes. It's awesome!"
"Awesome sauce!" squeaked Lori, skipping down the steps ahead of them, joining the elves that they were following.
Once she was ahead, Kyle leaned closer to Maia, getting serious now. "Hey, you know the ghouls-I mean, the orcs?" he whispered, the shock in his tone still apparent. "I mean, what the hell?!"
"Yeah, I know. I can't believe it!" whispered Maia, fear flickering her eyes.
"Do you think we should tell the Company about the You-Know-What? 'Cause this is too freaking crazy! All this time, I kept trying to tell myself that those ghouls were...you know, psychos in costumes and make-up, and now this!"
Maia nodded, lips pressed. "Tonight, after we eat," she decided. "I don't really want to ruin anyone's fun."
Kyle scoffed. "Yeah, the dwarves are really having blast here!" he said sarcastically. "Surrounded by people they hate for no apparent reason."
"They have a reason!" Maia pointed out.
"Not reasonable enough for me. I mean, sure, these elves are bit...uptight, but they've given me no reason to hate them. If anything, I'd give them a hundred dollar tip for just giving me a bath! Anyway, if there's anyone I'm worried about telling tonight, it's Bilbo."
Maia flinched, groaning through her teeth, "Oh, yeah...we've been keeping quite a bit from him, huh?"
"Ya think? I mean, we didn't really have a reason to, and we hate secrets."
"You hate secrets."
Kyle waved his hand. "Same thing. Look, we've been in this world for weeks now, and we're gonna be here for at least a few more anyway. So..."
"Okay, okay, I get your point! We just underestimated how important the significance is, that's all, but we're gonna tell them. We will. Just...later, okay?"
"Yeah, okay."
They began to approach the sound of sweet music.
For the first time in weeks, Bilbo felt more at ease, if not completely.
The elves had offered earlier for him and the dwarves' faces and hands to washed in their new sleeping quarter, which was basically a large, square room full of mats, pillows, benches, and an open view of Imlardris. The offer involved some disgruntled muttering among the dwarves, especially from a paranoid Dwalin, hissing, "If they touch me, I'll break their hands!", causing Bilbo to roll his eyes and just hope that threat won't stand true.
Thorin, as a royal, was led away with his chin high and his eyes hardened to a proper bath chamber, but carried his sword with him for good measure, since he insisted a cautious Dwalin stay with the others.
The whole time, Bilbo just worried about the Dainson siblings, along with the other dwarves. He even snuck a peak at Fili, of all people, who would not stop frowning and fidgeting with his brother, Kili, as they placed their belongings in a corner. Thinking about Maia, Bilbo thought, his mouth twitching as he recalled every look and moment of the journey he caught Fili looking at Maia, or Maia looking at Fili. It was obvious that they were attracted to one another, perhaps even more than that since there was not a day that went by in the journey when they weren't around each other.
They may as well already be courting, he thought.
Despite what the dwarves think, Bilbo believed these fair-faced elves offer good service and ruled by a kind master, but that didn't mean the hobbit wasn't aware of being cautious around strangers, whether they were Elf, Dwarf, Wizard, Man, or even Hobbit. He remembered those armed elf guards surrounding them in the courtyard not an hour ago.
"Who do those tree-mongrels think they are?" growled Gloin, as the dwarves set their belonging around the chambers. "Thinking they could just make off with those young 'uns..."
"It better just be a bath," agreed Nori. "Otherwise..."
"How could they trust those elves so easily?" spat Dwalin, pacing the room. "They know nothing about them!"
"We should have gone with them!" gritted Fili, fumbling with his knives holsters, and Kili nodded.
Balin stepped forward, trying to sound reasonable, "I don't trust the elves either, brother, but if there is anything that we have in common with them that we can reason with, it is their fondness of younglings. Miss Maia has won their respect, and Lori will have them charmed before they have entered the halls. Kyle...well, you know how that lad is." The dwarves chuckled together at that, and Kili nodded with a smile, "Aye. A real warg-slayer!"
Everyone seemed to calm a little with this reassurance, though there was clearly still tension beneath their demeanors. Bilbo had to smile. He wondered if the dwarves realized yet that they were treating the Dainson siblings as part of the Company completely.
Afterwards, they were led into the dining hall, which took place on a bright patio with an open sky above, displaying a long banquet table in the center at the height of the hobbit's hips, applied with round cushions and pillows for seats. On the table was patterned with porcelain plates, polished silverware, fancy goblets, flasks, pitchers, and spices.
The colors were a dominant of blue and gold and violet, reminding Bilbo of a sunny afternoon fading into dusk. The food was soon laid out as they all seated themselves, served with water and wine. There was the soft melody of harps, gondolas, and a flute being fluently played by four other elf servants, whom Bilbo at first assumed were noble, all wearing silver woven circlets and being all finely dressed in either long elegant silk dresses or long robes, their color tones making him think of dew grass, lake water, and peppermint.
Making him think of Hobbiton. Oh, how he missed his home! But even better that nobody would believe him if they heard about him getting acquainted with elves.
The food, however, was not completely what the dwarves anticipated. Ori was observing a piece of lettuce distastefully, while Dori encouraged him, "Try it. Just a mouthful."
"I don't like green food," groaned Ori, putting it down.
Dwalin scooped a handful of greens in a bowl, looking in it, before slapping it back down. "Where's the meat?" he asked in disbelief. Oin plucked a thin slice of turnip and frowned.
"Have they got any chips?" asked Ori, hopefully.
Bilbo sat in between Balin and Fili, Bombur next to Fili at the far end, while Gloin, Ori, and Dori sat on the other side of the table. The second half of the long table, which was pulled apart to make more room and nearer to the elvish instruments, sat Bofur, Kili, and Bifur on one side and Oin, Dwalin, and Nori on the other.
Bilbo couldn't help but smile a little as he ate his greens. He didn't care what the food was, as long as it filled his belly and made up for lost time. He was pretty sure he lost weight during their travels and had felt miserable about it. For a whole month, he had been missing multiple mealtimes per day and was content with what was served. And best of all, it was decent. Very much like how his home on Bag End should be, but clearly with more perfection.
As they listened to the elleth play her harp in the background with graceful fingers, that Lord Elrond and Gandalf entered from the halls, followed by a cleaned up Thorin without his fur-collared coat. "Kind of you to invite us," said Gandalf gratefully. "I'm not really dressed for dinner."
Elrond smiled. "Well, you never are." They both laughed as they walked across the patio and all three settled on the nearby round with higher chairs. Lord Elrond had changed from his battle armor to woods-colored long robes.
As the dwarves were picking at their greens with groans and settled on the steamed potatoes and soft cornbread served in baskets, Fili was tossing an apple in each of his hands, very focused on its red color to distract his discomfort in not knowing. Then, he noticed Bilbo and the dwarves watching him him and stopped, glaring at them, "What?"
"You're going to wear the apple rotten if you keep playing with it, laddie," pointed Balin, though his eyes twinkled with amusement. The dwarves were smirking at one another.
Bilbo cleared his throat. "Don't worry," he told Fili, "it's only been an hour. I'm sure they'll be joining us soon."
Fili frowned and tossed his apple back in the bowl. "I'm not worried," he muttered, not looking them in the eye. "Just hate apples, is all. They make me sick. I have half a mind sneaking out and cooking another fresh connie I saved."
Bilbo opened his mouth, but his eyes caught sight of a flash of light blue in the shadowy halls, but when he looked up, his eyes widened. "Uh...that's good," he said, "because they're here."
When all the dwarves followed the hobbit's gaze, silence followed as Maia, Kyle, and Lori stepped into the light outside, escorted by a few elf servants. Lori was the first to enter, her viole-blue dress shimmering in the light as she went skipping up the small steps, and scampering over until in front of the first table. Her arms locked behind her back as she smiled up at them, her brown eyes twinkling and her dark hair pulled into a braid. "Hi, everyone! Do you like my new dress?"
"We love it, Lori," said Ori, smiling.
Lori giggled, blushing, but then went over to sit in between Dori and Ori. "Maia's very pretty, too, isn't she?" she squeaked, while settling on another cushion and reaching over to snatch a bread roll.
"Durin's beard..." muttered Gloin in the background, while they stared.
Indeed she was. At first glance, her face glowing from the sunlight, she would have resembled the fair beauty of an elf if not for her shorter height, her wavy brown hair, and her awkward blush as she stepped forward with Kyle, who wore a silver-blue tunic that made his eyes become the same color and black leather breeches. Her dress was elvish, blue as robin eggs with silver and gold lining the fabric, her sleeves curtaining from the elbows, and her collar line heart-shaped. Her carmel brown hair with it lush waves running down near her waist rippled with gold from her sun streaks.
She looked stunning. Like a noble lady from afar.
"Wow, you're popular," muttered Kyle, elbowing Maia's side with a smile while seeing the dwarves stare at her. "Guess they're now glad we didn't listen to them, huh?"
When Kyle walked ahead to join the dwarves at the second table, seated between Bofur and Kili, Maia felt awkward and a bit overdressed as she walked over to the dwarves, trying not to laugh at their gawking faces. "Howdy, y'all!" she tried acting casual. "What's up?"
"M-Maia..." One glance at Fili, and Maia felt a blush heat her face when seeing his wide blue eyes fixed only on her. It was clear that if he were standing, he would have fallen over. Seeing her in a pretty dress must be a real catch. "Maia," he said again, without the stammer, "you look amazing!"
"That you do, lass," agreed Balin.
"You and Miss Lori," added Bombur, and the others nodded. Bilbo was smiling wide. The only other dress they had seen her wear was that purple skirt, which had been torn away by trolls just last night.
Maia shrugged, lips pressed. "Thanks. I know it's a bit much, but...at least we don't smell like troll anymore, right?"
"Well, we're not complaining, lass," said Fili, now smiling. He stood up and pulled a cushion over between his seat and Bombur, before holding up a hand. Touched by his chivalry, Maia felt a small laugh escape her as she took his hand and let him guide a short way onto the comfortable cushion, tucking her skirts under her while Fili sat back down.
"Sorry to worry you guys," she said, "but we really needed this and we were technically still traveling with Gandalf, so-"
"Nonsense," said Gloin. "Doesn't matter if you haven't signed up. You three are with us now."
"I agree," said Ori.
"And I," said Fili. "You have been for a while now."
Maia smiled at them all. "Thank you," and Lori nodded in agreement, her mouth full of cornbread. Bilbo smiled sadly. Though he was glad to hear that the Dainsons were accepted, he was not sure if he had yet to hear that from the dwarves.
Meanwhile, at the other table while selecting a potato, Kyle noticed at the corner of his eye that Kili was looking at the elf maiden playing the harp, who seemed to gaze back with an intensity that seemed luring and curious. And surprisingly attractive. Hot, a little voice whispered in his head. Kyle blushed and looked down at his plate, while a more courageous Kili smiled a little and winked at her.
When he looked away, his smile faded when he found Dwalin glaring at him with disapproval.
Trying to cover himself, Kili shrugged dismissively. "Can't say I fancy elf maids myself," he said. "Too thin."
Dwalin raised his eyebrows, and Kyle glanced over at him, smirking, "Oh, yeah?"
"Aye, they're all high cheekbones and creamy skin." He looked at Bofur beside Kyle, who nodded in agreement, but was smirking anyway. "Not enough facial hair for me." He then glanced up at a passing elf playing a small harp. "Although," he nodded toward the elf, "that one there's not bad."
Dwalin then leaned forward a little and whispered, "That's not an elf maid."
Kyle and Kili then both turned to look at the elf again, who turned around, and sure enough, was a male elf. Not just any male elf: it was Gaelion, one of the servants who selected Kyle's clothes.
Both turning around to look at Dwalin, Kili in horror and Kyle ducking his head with mortified grin, mouthing, "Oh, shit!", Dwalin mock-winked at Kili and everyone on the long tables started laughing.
Pink-faced, Kili nodded with a strained smile. "It's funny," he said.
"Gee, I don't know, Kee," teased Kyle, struggling with his laughter. "This could be a discovery! He might just be your type."
Kili shoved him playfully. "Shut up," he told him, while Kyle laughed to tears as he fell backwards.
The elf maiden playing the flute did so just above Oin. Finding the sound obnoxious, the apothecary stuffed a napkin in his silver trumpet and held to his ear, happier now when blocking the music.
During her talk with Fili and the dwarves, Lori being served a small goblet of goat milk from a pitcher instead of wine, chatting happily with Ori with a white mustache on her lip, Maia picked up a glass of red wine and took a sip. It was surprisingly tasty, fruity...and very strong. After her sip, Maia put down her glass when finding herself overhearing the exchange between Elrond, Gandalf, and Thorin right behind them.
"This is Oricrist, the Goblin-Cleaver," said Elrond, who was observing Thorin's new elvish sword from the troll hoard. Thorin watched with silent reverence. "A famous blade, forged by the High Elves of the West, my kin." He handed it back to Thorin. "May it serve you well."
Thorin accepted it with a nod, before Elrond then examined Gandalf's sword with even sharper interest, unsheathing its silver blade. "And this is Glamring, the Foe-Hammer, sword of the King of Gondolin. These swords were made for the goblin wars of the First Age..."
Bilbo, who had been listening in to the conversation with Maia, Fili, and Balin, pulled out his smaller sword and looked at it thoughtfully.
"Maybe I should have brought my daggers for this," said Maia with a frown, guessing what Bilbo was thinking. She nodded toward Elrond. "You gonna go?"
"I wouldn't bother, laddie," said Balin, before Bilbo would reply. "Swords are named for their great deeds they do in war."
"What are you saying, my sword hasn't seen battle?" asked Bilbo, looking a little disappointed.
Balin shifted awkwardly. "I'm not actually sure it is a sword." Surprised, Bilbo looked down at his sword again, before Balin added, "More of a letter opener, really."
Bilbo looked back up in disbelief.
"If that's true, then that's a pretty big letter-opener," remarked Maia, taking a bite of her salad. "It's sharp, at least. And a little bigger than my daggers."
Then they paused to hear Elrond ask Gandalf, who handed him back the sword, "How did you come by these?"
"We found them in a troll hoard on the Great East Road," explained Gandalf, and Thorin shot him a look, "shortly before we were ambushed by orcs." He picked up a lettuce and chewed it.
Elrond raised an eyebrow. "And what were you doing on the Great East Road?"
Gandalf looked hesitant to answer. Clearly unsettled, Thorin murmured, "Excuse me," before standing up and walking away from the table, until standing a few feet away from the first table, right behind Ori and Lori, who was picking at her salad with a pout. Thorin pulled out a wine flask while turning, but found Maia looking his direction and frowned.
Flustered, Maia quickly refocused her gaze on her sister and scolded, "Lori, stop picking at your food and eat it already!"
"But I don't like salad! Ori and everybody else don't either!" protested Lori, and Ori nodded in agreement.
"You're no help at all," Maia pointed at Ori, who looked away with a little shame, and then frowned at Lori, pointing a finger at her salad. "Eat it! A few bites."
Lori crossed her arms and pouted. "No!"
"Eat it, or you're not getting dessert!"
At the word 'dessert,' Lori's face lit up hopefully. "Are we getting dessert?"
Maia shrugged indifferently, looping a finger in her hair. Everyone at their table was watching them with amusement. "Maybe, but I'll make sure nobody let's you get any until you eat your greens first. It's long past time you did."
It was true. The whole time they were in the wilds, the healthiest thing to be eaten on the trip were apples and carrots, the latter often reserved for Bombur's evening stews.
"Maiaaaa," whined Lori.
"Loriiiii," mock-whined Maia, showing no sympathy. She exchanged an exasperated glance at Dori, who gave her the look 'Believe me, I've been there.' "No greens, no dessert. We did this rule at home, we're doing it now. Your choice."
Lori looked at all the dwarves for support, but they all looked away, none willing to deal with Maia's temper when expressed. Then the little girl looked at Bilbo with wide puppy-brown eyes, but the hobbit smirked and shook his head, "Your sister's right, Lori. It's greens or nothing."
Lori whined beneath her lips, angry at everyone's betrayal, but the child picked up her fork, stabbed into her bowl of lettuce, before putting a bunch in her small mouth. She shut her eyes and moaned, as if she were eating something foul, but Maia rolled her eyes and said, "Chew and swallow."
Lori did just that and the dwarves cheered for her as she continued. Maia felt Fili watching her with a smile on his face and found herself doing the same, feeling satisfied with her work. Then she found herself looking up at Thorin, who was looking back with a small smile. When realizing she was looking at him, he looked away, clearing his throat, but Maia's heart felt ten times lighter with happiness. If she was getting on Thorin's good side without realizing it before, then it was an accomplishment.
The whole time, Fili never took his eyes off her. The sun shined behind her hair, making her carmel brown hair glow with radiance around her beautiful face. Her dazzling blue dress made gray eyes bluer, the sun displaying the freckles on her nose bridge, and her happy smile was just priceless. He didn't move, not wanting to ruin the moment, but at the same time, he wished with all his heart that he could kiss that smiling mouth. She seemed even more lively than she did back in Bag End. The journey was already shaping her.
Perhaps Rivendell isn't so bad, after all, he thought. Here, it feels like they have all the time in the world.
Elrond was observing the scene while sipping on a glass of wine, watching Maia try to encourage little Lori to eat her greens, before his eyes roamed to the other table where the boy was seated. Kyle was listening to the dwarves talk, picking up a glass of wine while the hatted dwarf wasn't looking, sniffing it before taking a sip...and then his face froze, before spitting the wine back into the glass and placing it back, wrinkling his nose. The brunette dwarf next to him saw and sniggered, while the ginger-haired dwarf was observing a spice shaker with interest.
Elrond could feel the tingling vibration seeping from each of the human younglings, from the young women and both children. An ethereal magic as light and gentle as a slumbering song. It was not nearly as strong as Gandalf's, but it was there in early awakening.
It was same amount of magic Elrond sensed from within his children's fëar. The same that his twin shared with him...and the same that his mother had, in what little he can remember of her. Perhaps it was his Elven side that was able to keep his own power undetected, but Elohir, Elladan, and Arwen were able to do the same when they matured.
Estel was too far down the line of his mortal ancestors for the possibility of inheriting any Maiar abilities...but as he grew, he had been having strange dreams of late, much in the way Elros used to have, so Elrond was almost certain that the gene had somehow managed to skip its way down to his brother's last descendant by a few thousand years.
But these Dainson siblings had an even more powerful sensation than even Estel's, but stranger in its rhythm.
Elrond studied Kyle Dainson first, who sat listening to his dwarf companions as he ate. His black hair and silver-blue eyes were very sharp traits...but when up close on the courtyard, during their arrival, he noticed a light of gold flicker in their eyes as though the magical barriers of Imladris were empowering a source of light within them. His instincts were alarmed with both wariness and curiosity, but he kept a straight-face and invited the children in to be cleaned up while he pondered over this close observation.
The boy, Kyle...not only did he carry specific traits...he looked very familiar, as if Elrond had met him before. But he couldn't have. The notion unnerved Elrond as he continued to observe the boy, now that the warg blood was off his face.
There was only a few other people Elrond could think of that had a power similar to theirs, while one other looked very much like young Kyle in face and color. One who had lived very long before Kyle was born...
"Curious..." murmured Elrond.
Gandalf watched Elrond observe Kyle intensely. "You look like you have seen a ghost, my friend," he told the Elf Lord. "There was another very recently who had looked at the lad the same way."
Elrond nodded, but didn't look away. "Where did you say these children were from?" he said quietly.
"In a land called Texas," explained Gandalf, sipping his wine. "As I said, they are from another world with an earth much like our own, yet very different in lifestyle. From their description, they were brought here unexpectedly, landing in the Shire near Hobbiton, Bilbo Baggins' town. They were residing in his home when we came for our hobbit, trying to find a way to get home. Miss Maia was the first to believe that the answer lies...in another location. So, here they are."
"And you believe them to be more than just newlanders?" Gandalf nodded, and Elrond sighed, nodding. "Then by your previous descriptions, them being here before my own eyes has proven your theory correct. But tell me, Gandalf, if the other world has no other species than the race of Man with their short span of years, as you claim from their words...then what are children of the Dunedain doing in a world where none of their race thrive or exist?"
Having no answer to that mysterious question, Gandalf shrugged and shook his head solemnly. Elrond then observed the whole Company of Dwarves and changed the subject. "Thirteen dwarves, a halfling, a young woman, and two children: strange traveling companions, Gandalf," he said, before sipping his wine.
"These are descendants of the house of Durin, they're noble, decent folk," said Gandalf, neither spotting Nori slipping shakers into his coat. "They're surprisingly cultured." They tried to ignore the fact that Bombur ate with his mouth open at the nearby table. "They've got a deep love of the arts."
At that moment, Nori turned around to glare at the elf playing a harp behind him. "Change the tune, why don't you?" he complained, rubbing his ear. "I feel like I'm at a funeral!"
"Did somebody die?" asked Oin.
"Alright, lads, there's only one thing for it," said Bofur, standing up and getting up on a small obelisk in the center of the courtyard. Maia, Lori, and Kyle's mouths dropped in disbelief when Bofur started singing in merry voice, "There is aaaaan-
Then he started stomping his foot, the other dwarves joining in as he sang, "-inn, there's an inn, a merry old inn
beneath an old grey hill,
And there they brew a beer so brown
That the Man in the Moon himself came down
one night to drink his fill."
The dwarves had then joined into the song as if they all knew by heart, banging their fist on the table in rhythm in a similar fashion they did in Bag End. A piece of food sailed in between Gandalf and Elrond, who gave the wizard a look. Somewhere Lori was giggling loudly when the dwarves started throwing food at Bofur (Kyle joining in with a look of delight), who continued to sing,
"The ostler has a tipsy cat
that plays a five-stringed fiddle;
And up and down he saws his bow
Now squeaking high, now purring low,
now sawing in the middle."
The elves completely stopped their music, some looking awkward while others insulted by the rude interruption. Bofur then started dancing, Thorin stomping his foot with the others. Lori was bouncing in her seat with the rhythm and even Maia was laughing, trying her best not to look at the elves.
"So the cat on the fiddle played hey-diddle-diddle,
a jig that would wake the dead:
He squeaked and sawed and quickened the tune,
While the landlord shook the Man in the Moon:
'It's after three!' he said!"
The song seemed to end there and the dwarves all laughed, throwing more food as Bofur bowed. Gandalf just looked sheepish next to Elrond, who sighed and just drank his wine. Lori was clapping her little hands, squealing, "Yayyyy!" while Maia was giggling hard, her head landing on a laughing Fili's shoulder. Kyle was having the time of his life, tossing corn bread, lettuce, and potatoes. He laughed harder when Kili threw his food and it hit the breast of a female statue with a wet splat near Lindir's head, who merely glanced at the mess, looking flustered.
Kyle couldn't stop grinning as he threw food at other dwarves, feeling more lettuce and corn bread crumbs rain over him.
"Whoo! Now this is a food fight!" exclaimed Kyle happily, before he threw food in Dwalin's face with a loud splat.
Quenya Translation:
Fëar = "soul" or "indwelling spirit of an incarnate being"