AN: Yay, another chapter done! This one's a little longer, in fact, I think only chapter nine is longer than this one.
As usual, even chapters mean review acknowledgements/answers, so here we go!
DjonUstard: I'm glad you love it! I'm doubly glad that you even grew to like the stuff you originally didn't. Also, stay tuned for further chapters, I'm pumping them out as fast as I can!
Brother Bov: Haha! Glad I surprised you. I know I already acknowledged your review via PM, but thanks again for your review. I'm not going to spoil anything (and it's not even in this chapter, haha) BUT you do have to remember... which one of the Deities in Skyrim is responsible for the Moon? (Other than Lorkhan, of course). The interesting question is, though, how is the Daedra going to interact with Tilion, the Maia that's supposed to be in charge of the Moon? We'll just have to wait and see!
Characters and worlds belong to their respective owners (Tolkien and Bethesda.) Storyline up until about chapter 25 belongs to Demon-Kagetsuki as well.
Golden light filtered through the pillars of the hallway, darting in between the inhabitants who chucked at the exuberant youngling's focus. She slowed down at a particular door, opening it a crack to peek inside to make sure she wasn't disturbing anyone. She saw her target speaking to others, and slipping inside, she snuck behind a curtain.
"-despite your troubles, is the barrow nearly complete?" her target spoke to the group of men.
"You worry about your visions, Chirp-tongue. We'll worry about our building," the leader of the menfolk answered gruffly. He shifted on his feet, crossing his arms under his thick bearskin cloak. "You said this was the last place you saw in your vision. Has Akatosh sent you any more?"
"No, no he has not. As far as I know, this will be the last barrow before we sail for home," the small man answered, fidgeting a bit. "But… the Elves have been most gracious so far, certainly they'll allow us to stay for a little longer?"
One of the men in the back laughed bitterly. "Figures that a Bosmer would want to stay with his own kind."
The deerskin man's face grew stony, and he held an inky black sword to the wood elf's throat, making him step up against a wall. "We warned you, the only reason we brought you is because Akatosh willed it. The only reason we don't leave you here is because you're the only one that knows the way across the Sea-Storm. I do not care what you feel for these knife-eared milk-drinkers. You'd do well to remember we need you alive, not uninjured."
Paling visibly, the Bosmer said, "Yes, yes, of course, I understand." After the blade was sheathed, the Bosmer rubbed at his throat where the blade had been held.
The man turned to his companions. "Let's go. I don't want to be here any longer than we have to, even if it means working on the barrow."
After the menfolk followed their leader out of the room, the Bosmer grumbled, "Nord bastards, they'd all be doomed to Alduin if it weren't for me."
He turned back to look at his plans on the desk, when he heard quiet giggling. He paused, looking up, a small smile on his face as he wandered around the room, a grin on his face.
"Now now, is that a mouse I hear in this room? Surely an Elven home like this would be cleaner than that!" he said, the giggling increasing as he passed her hiding spot.
She squealed in delight and surprise as he pulled back the curtain and scooped her up in his arms. "My, what a big mouse this is! And so strange looking too!"
"Ada! I'm not a mouse!" the small girl objected, an indignant frown on her face as she spoke.
The wood elf gasped in mock surprise as he stroked her ebony hair. "But of course! How could I mistake my little star for a mouse?"
The child laughed as she hugged her father. Laughing, he asked, "Where is your Nana? She's supposed to be watching you."
"She's talking to Grumpy and the nice elf," she responded.
He gave a start of laughter, before saying, "Now now, little star, you must remember that his name is Lindir, though" and he tickled her, making her squirm, "Grumpy is definitely one way to describe him. And you must almost remember that the nice elf is Lord Elrond, the one letting us stay here. Now, let's go find your mother.
Brænna didn't feel like she awoke, rather she was asleep one moment, and the next she was studying the intricate carvings on the ceiling. She was just sitting up when she heard a knock at the door, a repeat of what must have woken her.
A female voice asked, "May I come in?"
"Of course," Brænna answered, loud enough for the visitor to hear.
Entering the room, an elf maid said, "I brought you some more clothes to wear for your stay. I'm fairly certain that wandering around in an evening gown is far from the top of your to-do list," she smiled. "My father wishes to inform you that there are many armorers here in Rivendell that can repair your… gear," she also said.
"Father?" Brænna asked, eyes still a little fuzzy with sleep.
"Elrond," the Elf maid said simply, studying the intruder. She was rather youthful, but then again, no one knew what age an elf might actually be. In her hands, she carried a deep blue dress and a wine red tunic along with brown pants.
"Ah, I see," Brænna said, surprised that the daughter of her host seemed to be running errands. "You're right, I don't think it would be proper for me to go around like this, though I would imagine the reactions would be amusing," she said, laughing. "Thank you, for these and the ones you gave me last night. I'd very much appreciate it if my armor could be repaired. It's very dear to me."
The Elf-maid left the room as quickly as she entered, though she'd gathered up Brænna's armor as she left. It was only after the door had shut that she'd forgotten to ask her name. She shook her head, undoing her braid and brushing the hair straight.
She noted the sun streaming into the room, which reminded her of the dream that felt like a memory.
Can't be, she thought. I've never been to Middle Earth before, and the barrow here is millennia old. I was barely a hundred when Alduin attacked Helgen. Also, she paused, the brushing, examining her own white hair. That child had black hair, and even when I was younger, it was auburn, not black.
She shook the dream from her head, and took the time to put it up in something more complex than a single braid, reminiscent of Serana's hair when Brænna had found her in Dimhollow Crypt.
Though her arm was sore from the Warg bite and she could feel the knot on her head as she worked her hair, she planned to get Bilbo's sword training started. Though he'd been proud of his skill at 'Conkers,' whatever that was, his lack of weapons training was rather alarming given that he'd already been separated once from the group. Determined, she promised herself that he would be trained enough to defend himself at least.
She unravelled the bandage from her arm to check on its progress and to clean it, and to her surprise, it was healing rather quickly.
Must be the herbs these elves used. This looks like it's been healing for a week, she thought as she slipped out of her gown, putting on the simple pants.
Looking around the room, she spotted some clean bandages and quickly wrapped her injuries, and just in case, wrapped the scales that were beginning to creep down her arms. Afterward, she put on the tunic. The sleeves only went down to her elbows, which was fine considering her injuries, and the collar came up to almost her hairline in the back, completely covering her scales, and slid on a pair of dark leather boots.
As she walked out of her room, the guard on duty snapped to attention, making her think that he might've dozed off sometime before dawn.
"Good morning!" she said cheerfully, attempting to be friendly despite her early awakening and late night out.
He nodded before saying, "Lord Elrond has invited you and your company to dine with him this morning. Do you need to be accompanied?"
"No, no. Don't worry about me, I'll manage on my own," she responded. "I believe, however, you should get some rest. Wouldn't want anyone to catch you sleeping on the job."
Indignant, the Guard looked at her, saying stiffly, "I was merely meditating. Elves do not need sleep like that of man."
She gave him a curious hum before walking away. Not long after, despite her impeccable sense of direction, she realized that she was hopelessly lost. Perhaps going off on her own wasn't such a good idea. There were no elves around that she could ask for directions sso she kept on going straight.
To her relief, after a few minutes of wandering, she began to hear conversation and the shouting of her Dwemer companions from ahead and began to quicken her pace. She was about to turn a corner when she spotted Elrond and Lindir, expressions of shock and amusement on their faces, and only had a moment to wonder what caused their reaction before she saw for herself.
Brænna had spent many of her days alongside Men, Elves, Orcs, masculine creatures of all the races during times of war, and had seen many in various states of undress, especially when she was helping the restoration mages with their work, but nothing, absolutely nothing could have prepared her for the sight that was twelve Dwarves bathing and running around with soaked towels in a sunlit fountain, not a stitch of clothing to be found.
She felt her face burn with embarrassment, but decided to stay, leaning against the rock to wait for them, adamantly refusing to let her eyes wander down. When they weren't refusing her help and being suspicious of every little thing she did, they actually seemed like a lot of fun. At times, they even reminded her of the Thieves Guild when they would get a new shipment of Black-Briar Mead.
It seemed like Hermaeus Mora was having a laugh as the God of Fate when Kíli finally caught her gaze, grinning, before realizing his situation and diving under the water with a mortified look and a yelp. The festivities halted immediately at their companion's reaction, so they all heard when she cleared her throat to get their attention. She had enough sense to turn away before they turned toward the sound, certain that her face was brilliant crimson by now.
"Lord Elrond has invited us to breakfast this morning…" she said. "I, uh… believe I took a wrong turn."
There was a moment of silence, before one by one, they all started chuckling, which turned into full belly laughing.
Cheeks still burning, she asked "What's so funny?" thinking they were laughing at her embarrassment.
"Oh lass," one of the Dwemer said. "We honestly didn't know if you'd be up this morning. That, and the fact that you actually have a sense of humor!"
"Funnily enough, we Bosmer are the only ones with a sense of humor in Tamriel," she said with a scowl.
"I'm sure some of us would like to invite you over and ask how in Mahal's name you survived, but I don't think you'd appreciate the timing," someone in the back shouted.
"I'll tell you at breakfast" she shouted, turning her back on them.
"Why not now? Don't you like the view?" Fíli taunted, a teasing note in his voice.
Rather than dignify that with an answer, she simply strode back down the hall, completely flustered.
As she walked away, the Dwarves finished bathing, and began to get dressed, reminded of their hunger at the thought of food.
As he slipped his shirt over his head, Kíli's face was just as red as Brænna's had been. He asked his brother, "How long do you think she was there?"
Fíli chuckled, and before he could answer, Dwalin said, "I spotted the Lass watching us a couple of minutes before you dove underwater sounding like a headless chicken. Why?"
"She was watching us?!"
Eventually, Brænna found a guard to ask where breakfast was being held, having lost sight of Elrond and Lindir. The guard graciously led her to a balcony overlooking the falls, where gentle music was being played by other Elves. Gandalf, Elrond, Thorin and Bilbo all sat at one table, a chair left for her, other seats left empty below.
"Speaking of which, here she is," Elrond said. "How are you feeling this morning?"
Glaring at him, yet giving him a smile all the same, "Good morning, all of you. I'm feeling rather well this morning, Lord Elrond, though I would've appreciated a warning where my path led," she said as she sat next down to the Hobbit.
"Ah yes," he said, still smiling. "We would have, but we spotted you a bit too late to give you warning. My apologies," he smiled, and she rolled her eyes at the note of humor in his voice.
Turning instead to Bilbo, she said, "Master Baggins! Good morning."
He returned her smile, saying, "Morning! You know, you can just call me Bilbo?"
"Yes yes, I know. I hope you don't mind, but I have some plans for the two of us today," she said, and he gave her a confused look. "I highly doubt you'll master the sword in one day, but I find it necessary that you should at least know how to wield it," she explained.
He was in the middle of sputtering a reply when the rest of the company filed in, chattering and laughing. As they saw her at the table, some of them winked, causing her cheeks to warm slightly. She almost laughed outright at Kíli's refusal to meet her gaze and his quick stride to his seat. Fíli seemed to also notice, and he laughed loudly.
Breakfast was served shortly, and though she'd long abandoned the Green Pact of Valenwood, she was crestfallen when she saw no meat.
She froze halfway through chewing a rather sweet vegetable when Balin asked, "So how did you survive? How did you get back to us?"
All eyes were upon her as she swallowed and asked, "I'm not sure what you've heard from Kíli. Why don't you tell me so I don't recount that part of the story.
It surprised her when normally shy Ori spoke up and said, "He told us that you shot off a massive fire spell that took down quite a few of the Orcs, and both of you stayed to fight the rest of the Orcs. He saw a warg bite you on the arm after you were distracted by the Elven horns, and you helped him escape. Of course, after that he saw you being dragged away."
Subconsciously, she rubbed the bit arm, and glanced toward Kíli. She blinked her eyes, and gave him a barely perceptible nod.
"Of course, I wouldn't expect him to know anything past that. My magic reserves were depleted after that fire spell, but the pack was trying to outrun theElven Riders. The Warg dragging me was shot, so it dropped me out of reflex. With my arm free, I set it on fire with a smaller magic spell. I used the chaos of battle to run for cover, because I didn't know if these new riders were friend or foe.
"The elves left shortly after, and many of the Orcs were dead on the field. I used the last of my magicka to heal the wound, which did very little, so I made a poultice and used some cloth to make bandages and wrap my arm."
She shrugged, moving the vegetables around her plate. "I climbed into the cave, followed the path and… here I am," she said.
Brænna didn't know how much they would believe, though by the looks of it they had accepted her explanation, save for the one that knew part of what was truly going on. She did notice, however, that Ori was scribbling furiously in his little journal, and decided to talk to him about it.
"That is quite a tale, Miss Stormcrown, though I'm sure I can say that we are glad to have you back," Gandalf said, breaking the silence, as even the musicians had stopped playing to hear her story.
"Glad to be back," she said with a smile as she raised her cup of wine to her lips.
Breakfast continued, though Brænna had lost her appetite in the retelling of the story. She watched as the Dwarves grumbled, enjoying the breakfast just as much as the ex-carnivore. A haunting tune played from behind her as the Elven flautist took the lead in the music, and she found herself smiling, remembering the bards that often played at the inns and taverns she frequented in her earlier years. She chuckled to herself as Oin stuffed a napkin into his hearing trumpet.
She faced toward the conversation, which had turned to Elrond examining the swords from the Troll hoard.
"This is Orcrist," he explained, holding Thorin's. "The Goblin Cleaver. A famous blade, forged by the High Elves of the West, my kin. May it serve you well."
Brænna had to stifle a shudder and flash of anger as she grew cautious of the elves standing around them. So they are High Elves…
"And this is Glamdring," Elrond continued, snapping her out of her thoughts. "The Foe-Hammer, sword of the King of Gondolin. THese swords were made for the Goblin wars of the First Age…"
Having buckled them to her waist in order to practice with Bilbo later, she drew her own paired swords. "And these?" she asked, presenting them to the Elvish Lord.
He glanced up at her as he took the blades. "The twin swords Aryante and Sildarana, Daybringer and Gleaming-Moon, used in the Goblin Wars as well. How did you come by these?"
"We found them in a troll hoard on the Great East Road," Gandalf answered, "Shortly before we were ambushed by Orcs."
"And what were you doing on the Great East Road?" Elrond asked, suspicion in his voice.
Knowing the company's quest was still supposed to be kept secret, Brænna said, "Isn't that the usual way people travel from the Shire to Rivendell?"
Thorin excused himself from the table as Brænna collected her swords and sat back down. She watched as he stalked down the hallway, and wondered what was wrong.
"I wouldn't bother, laddie," she heard Balin say, and turned to see Bilbo with his shortsword unsheathed. "Swords are named after the great deeds they do in war."
Bilbo looked at him, slightly offended. "What, are you saying my sword hasn't seen battle?"
"I'm not actually sure it is a sword," the Dwarf answered. "More of a letter opener, really."
"Letter opener or not," she interrupted, "He needs to learn to wield it effectively. That's why after breakfast we're going to train."
"But your arm is still healing!" Bilbo objected. "What if you get hurt? What if I hurt you?"
"I've had worse," she said simply. "No offense, but I don't believe you'll be able to come close. Besides, you can't tell an attacker to stop fighting you if you're hurt," she said pushing away her plate.
Bilbo was about to respond when Nori finally had enough of the melancholy music. "Change the tune, would you? I feel like I'm at a funeral!"
"Did somebody die?" Oin asked, agreeing with Nori.
"Alright lads, there's only one thing for it!" Bofur said as he stood on the table and began to sing.
There's an Inn, there's an inn, there's a merry old Inn
Beneath an old grey hill,
And there they brew a beer so brown
The Man in the Moon himself came down
One night to drink his fill!
OH! The Ostler has a tipsy cat
That played a five-stringed fiddle
And up and down he saws his bow
Now squeaking High!
Now purring Low!
Now sawing in the middle!
So, the Cat on the Fiddle played 'Hey Diddle-Diddle'
A Drink that'll wake the Dead,
He squeaked and he sawed,
And quickened the tune
And the landlord shook the Man in the Moon,
"It's after Three!" he said.
While she was amused at first, she was quickly embarrassed by the food throwing, and even gave Kíli a sharp look when he threw a potato that barely missed Lindir, splattering over the beak of a carved bird. Cheekily, he smiled at her, and she shook her head, laughing.
Since the food was all over the floor, breakfast had quickly ended after that. She led Bilbo to a training field that the Dwarves had found nearby. Some of them trained, while others decided to stick around and watch, having nothing better to do in Rivendell except to spectate.
Training the Hobbit was harder than Brænna had expected; his low confidence greatly affected his learning. Of course, she treated him like she would any other trainee in Skyrim, never giving him a break, drilling him on movements over and over again. The dwarves were cheering on the Halfling, but they obviously felt that he had no chance of learning what took years of practice and experience.
"Again!" she barked, growing frustrated with the Hobbit. "This time, hold the sword like I taught you," she shouted after disarming him for the dozenth time.
"Maybe you should give him a break! He'll only get worse from here," a Dwarf shouted unhelpfully.
She glanced at the panting Hobbit before sighing in frustration. "Fine. Rest. But I'm not giving up. I want you back here in half an hour!"
As he found a pillar to rest on, lying down on the cool grass, Brænna heard someone behind her. She was just sheathing her blade when the person asked, "How about a little friendly competition?"
"I don't see why not," she replied, not turning around, and needing to actually test her injuries if they would slow her down. "Who would like to go against me?"
"I would," Kíli stepped around her, saying.
Unsurprised, she drew one of her swords, tossing the other outside the stone ring. She twirled it in her hand, then readied it, relaxing into a pose she knew well, blade low. He drew his own, and without flourish, flew at her with surprising speed. She brought her blade up to block, and in the same movement, brought her back foot sweeping forward to catch his ankle. Unlocking his sword and jumping back, he evaded the kick and stepped out of her range.
They circled each other for a moment, blades glinting in the morning sun, before he rushed her again, launching a series of attacks that she had no problems stopping. Though Archery and Magic were her strongest suits, she'd had a millennium to practice swordplay.
At the end of the barrage, they stood, faces inches from each other when Kíli hissed, "You owe me an explanation."
"Now?" she hissed, as she jumped back, nearly floating over the grass and evading his well-timed thrust.
"Better now than later when you run off to avoid this conversation," he said, pitching his voice so only she could hear.
"Fine," she said as they locked swords again. "What do I need to explain?"
"That fire spell," he said, slashing at her, then thrusting at her thigh. "One of your shouts?"
"Yes," she answered, dancing around the blade. "One of the first I learned, in fact."
"So what happened? You got… scary," he said, evading a flurry of thrusts.
She collected her thoughts for a moment, parrying a feint and sending the tip of his sword into the ground. "Not many Dovahkiin live as long as I do. The ones who do…" she said, remembering Miraak, "The more they use the power, the Shouts, the less control they have over their draconic side."
Kíli grew silent, and she saw fear in his expression as their blades danced, glimmering in the rising sun. She felt like it was cheating, but she used his distraction, catching the back of his knee with her ankle and sending him sprawling to the ground, blade pointed at his throat.
"That's why I told you to run, which you did. That is also part of the reason I keep Odahviing nearby," she said, helping him up. "Because he can withstand all of my Thu'um, and knows how to bring me back."
He paused, forgetting their hands clasped at the wrists. "So as long as you don't use your… 'Thu'um,' you're fine?"
She shrugged. "As fine as I can be. Sometimes it's worse than others. You remember what I was like with the Trolls," she said, shuddering. "But I was able to pull myself back before hurting Bilbo."
"Which we appreciate," he said, finally letting go.
Before he could ask any more troublesome questions, she said, "On a completely different note," she grinned, "You should be shirtless more often."
With a wink she left a flustered and embarrassed Dwarf in the middle of the field, sputtering, trying to remember what he had been trying to ask her.
Brænna spent the rest of the day at the library she had found the night before, browsing through the books, and avoiding the Dwarves. Many of the books she couldn't read, as they were written in some flowery script that seemed to be the visual version of the birdsong language these High Elves spoke. The others, specifically ones on history and mythology, she had stacked on a convenient table. She was reading through a rather pleasant myth of a yellow-booted man and his adventures in the wild, when Elrond and Gandalf walked in. They obviously didn't see her, as she had hidden herself atop a bookshelf to ensure she wouldn't be found by the Dwemer.
At first, they spoke of the Dwarves, Gandalf being enigmatic about their quest, but soon Elrond said, "And what of the Elf who claims to be a dragon?"
She almost dropped her book in surprise, and Gandalf shifted nervously. "I did not know about her powers when I asked her to join us. I simply thought she was an Elf who had made a name for herself as a Dragon-Slayer. In fact, I had only heard about her from a strange man in a tavern, a fellow with white hair and fine, though strange, red and purple clothing."
She stifled a growl, cursing the mad Daedra, but kept listening.
"I'd met with the previous Archmage, a man named Savos Aren once before, and established contact with him. I was attempting to reach him about her, and was pleasantly surprised when she answered back in his stead."
The wizard paused. "Still. Never in all my years would I have believed we had a dragon walking among us."
Elrond sighed. "This is actually not the first time a Dovahkiin has walked the halls of Rivendell. Surely, you remember the Od Kendov that came with Istilrína? I would have banished them from our halls, had she not been with them, purely for their ridiculous request to build on our land."
"Certainly you don't think…?" Gandalf asked.
"I cannot say for certain. However, you must be careful travelling with her. If she is the same, she does not seem to remember anything from here," he said, and they both stood, walking beyond her hearing.
Brænna's interest was definitely piqued, as they continued to talk about this "Istilrína." Perhaps she was not too far off from her theory of picking up fragments of memories, though she suspected that Elrond knew more of her past than she'd previously thought. She carefully set her book on the table with the others as she hurried to her room. She'd planned on staying locked inside until Elrond came to check on her arm, but her stomach had other plans, reminding her that she'd skipped lunch.
With a groan, she forced herself upright, hoping the Dwemer had found food that was more to their liking than greens and vegetables. Remembering their song at breakfast, she did pull out her lute from her pouch, unwrapping and tuning it to perfection.
To her surprise, there was no guard posted at her door to guide her way. She laughed though, as she heard the ruckus the Dwarves were making and had absolutely no trouble finding them. She turned the corner just in time to watch Bombur catch a sausage in his mouth, and for the table to collapse under the large Dwarf's weight.
Laughing along with the rest of the Dwarves, she asked, "Mind if I join the party?"
"Not at all!" Dori cheered. "Though we expected you would've preferred the company of your kin."
She snorted as she sat down in the space they'd made for her, plucking out a simple melody on her lute. "Quite the opposite. They remind me too much of the High Elves from home."
Some of them seemed confused at the statement, and she noticed Ori surreptitiously pulling out his notebook, so she explained. "Not all Elves get along in Tamriel. The Altmer, the High Elves, believe themselves to be direct descendants of Gods, so they think they're superior to all of the other races, and often try to prove it." She shuddered, remembering Malborn's story. "Sometimes, they sent squadrons into my homeland of Valenwood to… cleanse the town, and remind all the others of their superiority. Even the ones who didn't are some of the snobbiest, self-centered people I know."
"Of course, I haven't seen that behaviour here, but come on," she said. "They call themselves 'High' Elves? Somebody has a superiority complex."
The others laughed at her joke before Fíli leaned in, saying, "You have a lute."
"Obviously," she said, purposefully twanging on a dissonant chord.
"Know any songs?" somebody else asked.
"I'm unfamiliar with the songs here, but I can pick up a tune as easily as any bard," she said, prompting someone to sing, which they gladly did.
Learning many Dwarvish drinking songs that night, that was how they spent their time until the early hours of the morning.
She finally excused herself, seeing the glow of dawn peeking over the horizon, because she would need the rest for that evening's summoning.
What? A filler chapter? In my Skyrim/LOTR story? How dare I! Don't worry, much will be explained soon. Maybe, haha! Don't forget to review, favorite, and follow if you like it, and especially, review if you don't because that's how I know what to fix!