Many thanks to...
dutchangel1979
and therandoms!
(randomsmean all of the guests whom I cannot send my thanks too!)
"If your mouth opens any wider you'll be able to swallow a cave troll." Gandalf's eyes are twinkling as he says this, and I send him a mock glare.
"This is going to sound dumb, but what is the 'Fate of the Eldar'?" I ask, even though I have a good idea of what it is.
I tug on one of my brown curls as Elrond answers my inquiry.
"If you accept the gift that has been offered to you, then you shall gain the features and immortality of my kin."
Dude, that's freaking awesome! I get to grow pointy ears!
I get several odd looks, and I realize that I must have said that last thought out loud. Oops.
"So how do I get this stuff? Genie in a bottle? Shooting star?" The only response I get is more blank stares.
Darn. Any hilariously sarcastic comment is lost on them. Just goes to show you that Will Rogers is right. There is nothing as stupid as an educated man if you get him off the subject he was educated in. You three would be dumb as dirt in the 21st century.
"The Valar will know when you have made your choice. Such a thing has not happened in Middle Earth before, so whether or not the change is gradual I cannot say."
I thought about the decision ahead, and suddenly remembered that one more important question still needed to be asked.
"Before I decide, is there no way I can go home?" The thought of never seeing the U.S again turns my emotions into those of a sniveling three year old— who was just told that Santa Claus died from hypothermia. In other words, I'm so confused that it scares the booger crap out of me.
"No, little one. You have been brought here for a purpose, and although I do not know what that purpose is, I know you will seek it out." His understanding voice calms me down, and it's a good thing too, because I was just thinking about throwing one heck of a fit.
Oh well. I don't really have anything to go back too. Mom and Dad aren't there anymore, and Aunt Lydia and I were never really that close... Wait a minute. They don't have electricity here. Or plumbing. They probably don't even have toilet paper! This is so not happening! Breathe in... breathe out. Do not go all mental again. Deep breaths...
Elrond is speaking to me again, and I am desperately trying to calm myself down so I can listen to him.
I didn't catch most of it, but what I did catch had me bubbling off of the seat in a hurry.
Elrond just offered to be the family I lost.
xXx
Elrond watched as Riley bolted off of the armchair.
Elves may have quick reflexes, but even he had had barely enough time to realize what had happened.
The Lord of Rivendell suddenly found that two arms encircled his waist, and a thatch of long brown hair was peeking out of his wine colored robe. His eyebrows rose in a slightly surprised expression as he looked to Gandalf, who only chuckled.
A tearful thank-you came from the fabric, and although it was muffled, it was said with a sincere heart. Elrond smiled softly at the girl who had so jubilantly hugged him after he had extended the offer to bring her into his family.
In his heart, she was already as loved as any of his other children, and it still made him seethe with righteous anger to think that someone would have beaten the innocent being in his arms.
When Riley pulled back, her eyes sparkled with tears that had yet to be shed.
"I have made my choice. I will accept the gift that the Valar has given to be accepted into your family. "
Elrond smiled and pulled her back into a hug while Gandalf and Aragorn watched in amazement. Not often did they see the elf lord show affection so openly, and it only made the moment even more treasured to those who had witnessed it.
xXx
Sweet nibblets. I seriously hope that I didn't blow snot all over Elrond. That would be just plain nasty.
Do you know how embarrassing it is to realize that you just bawled all over one of the most respected characters in Middle Earth? It's pretty awful. But not really important compared to the Hallmark moment that had just happened.
After I had announced my choice my appearance didn't change physically. But I somehow felt different— lighter almost.
I was moved to a chamber in the family corridors shortly after I had left Elrond's study. Not a very hard task, considering that nothing came with me except for Duke and the necklace. And my clothes. Can't forget those. After all, who would want to fall into Middle Earth in their birthday suit?
xXx
I woke up the next morning with a hiss of surprised pain and clinched teeth as I felt someone gently peel back the bandage that was wrapped around my back and torso.
"I can only rewrap the bandage if you sit up, pîn gwathel."
Go jump off of the waterfall, Arwen.
"I heard that, little one."
Darn it. I forgot that she's Galadriel's granddaughter.
"Ladies do not swear. Even in their minds." She reprimands.
Ladies shouldn't wake people up at dawn either. And darn isn't a swear word.
I pick up a fluffy white pillow and shove my head underneath it, mumbling through the downy stuffing.
"I'm not getting up, Arwen. These blankets have accepted me as their own." I retort as I snuggle up in said coverings.
"Hmmm... I remember the method Adar used with me once..."
A wail escapes my lips as the blankets are ripped away from me, and a pitcher of ice cold water is poured on my back.
I bolt out of bed and grab the towel Arwen held in her hand. My shivering soon ceases as I start drying my wet hair.
A knock sounds on the door, and I start panicking after I noticed that I'm only halfway decent thanks to Arwen's desire to rewrap my cuts.
"Where's my t-shirt?"
She smirks. Uh oh. Not good. In the books Tolkien wrote, elves were like the angels of Middle Earth. I must have fallen into an alternate universe, because these elves are half devil. No kidding.
"Arwen? Where are my clothes?"
The knocking grows louder.
"The shirt was burnt because of the bloodstains."
What! Does Middle Earth not have some kind of ancient OxiClean? You don't just burn an American's favorite shirt— it's unethical. Don't even think about trying that stunt on my sweat pants.
"What am I supposed to wear? Someone is trying to bust the door down!"
I'm wailing again, and a voice calls through the door.
"Arwen, when did you get a cat?"
She rolls her eyes.
"When you brought it home."
Gee, that'll make you feel appreciated. I'm just a cute little animal to these elves.
"I'm coming to see it."
"You cannot. She's indisposed."
A huff was heard from the other side of the door.
"I saved that thing's sorry little hide and you won't let me see it? Why ever not? It's not like it could scratch my eyes out!"
"Don't be too certain. I'm afraid of her claws myself."
Arwen gives me a mischievous wink, and I realize that I'm being treated as she would treat any of her other siblings. In fact, her brother is probably the one on the other side of the door. If her wittiness wasn't directed towards me, I'd know why Aragorn is in love with her.
"Enough foolishness. I am leaving my gift in the doorway, as I cannot come in at the moment."
"Very well."
Silence is heard on the other side of the door, and I sigh in relief as the bantering stops. Sure it was playful, but no one wants to be the ball that get's tossed around in rugby.
Arwen swiftly replaces the old bandage, and I feel as if I am wrapped in a victorian corset because it is so tightly done.
That part wasn't so bad, but when she pulled out the dress... Nuh uh. Not a chance.
I bolt, but my elvish reflexes have yet to arrive. Held tightly around the waist, Arwen dressed me like one would dress a squirming toddler.
Not cool, sis. Not cool.
And just when I think she is finally done, she decides that my hair needs to be braided—Again.
After Arwen had tried multiple braids, she finally settled for an intricate weave that would have taken me hours to do and left the room.
When the door opened, her eyes dropped to a large object that lay on the floor. I peeked around her shoulder.
Freaky Deaky Dutch, I think I'm in love.
Oh, yeah, that sarcastic elf who called me a cat? He found my duffle bag; the one that I had packed when I was leaving Aunt Lydia's. It's a little muddy, but it is manna from heaven.
I quickly drag it into my bedroom and start going through it. Much to Arwen's dismay, there are several pairs of sweatpants and t-shirts.
Note-to-self: Keep all modern devices, clothes, and junkfood far out of Arwen's reach. She thinks they're the work of Sauron himself, and will most likely melt them all.
On a more serious note, Arwen woke me up at midnight to tell me that the splinter has been removed from Frodo's shoulder. Everyone is still anxious to see whether or not he will come to consciousness, but I can rest easy knowing that he will wake up at ten o' clock tomorrow morning.
I can't wait to stuff my face with food at the feast held in his honor tomorrow night, but then again, I will probably have to wear another dress.
Why must ladies be so proper? Especially the ones that are daughters to Lord Elrond?
xXx
Guide...
pîn gwathel— little sister
adar— father