Chapter Eighteen: Culture Shock

Once again, Arwen found herself wandering through the forest alone. This time, however, the trepidation she'd felt throughout their journey was gone. She could easily navigate these lands blindfolded, and next to Lothlórien it was the safest place in all of Arda. She was home. Upon finally crossing over the borderlands, she had set off to reacquaint herself with Imladris. Her friends seemed to sense her need to be alone, so they cheerfully kept company with the twins and did not try to follow.

Time seemed to fold in on itself as she roamed, such that she felt certain she had just been here yesterday. And her mother was here, too. No thoughts of marauding orcs or how the shadow crept day by day to darken her fëa. It was difficult to feel the full weight of her years and still think it likely that she had managed to change over the last few. But if she truly felt there was no hope, she should have followed her mother across the sea. That was what this world needed most; hope.

Collapsing in his favorite spot by the river, Estel leaned back and placed his hands behind his head. He felt exhausted and restless all at the same time. Ever since Lord Elrond had taken him in, his life had been filled with one form of education after another. He'd learned the history of all the speaking races in Arda, had become fluent in Sindarin and Quenya, and even spoke a bit of Dwarvish. In addition, he'd been schooled in the ways of war and trained to fight well with any weapon, though his special skill was with swords. Up until this, his twentieth year, his foster father had withheld his true goal for all of Estel's hard work. He had merely convinced him that with dark times coming, warriors of the race of men would be needed.

But now… Now he knew why Lord Elrond cared so much for his future. And why he had been named for his purpose: hope. His whole world had been turned upside down with these revelations, and he'd barely slept since their conversation two days ago. He closed his stinging eyes and tried to will his mind to relax and allow him to rest. Softly, he began to murmur snatches of an elven song he'd learned about the elleth Lúthien Tinúviel and her mortal lover Beren. It was a beautiful, almost tragically simple story, and never failed to soothe him.

Thus it was that Arwen found him some time later. As she came upon him lying by the river, she thought at first he was asleep. Then she heard him chanting softly under his breath, shaggy black hair covering most of his face. She froze, knowing these words all too well. As she made to escape silently back into the trees, he sat up suddenly and turned to face her, his gray eyes trapping her own. No normal mortal should have been able to hear her, and she gasped in surprise. Elf and Man stared at each other for a long moment, stunned. Watching him rise lithely to his feet, Arwen's first thought was to how young he looked. This seemed odd to her, having spent the past year in the company of two women who couldn't be that much older. Not much older in years, she decided finally. In terms of experience, they seemed closer to her own age.

This was a strange situation for her. Despite her recent friendship with Buffy and Willow, she'd rarely had contact with the mortal world. She assumed, from her brothers' hints, that this must be the 'Estel' that their father was fostering. Which was another strange piece of the puzzle that she'd yet to figure out since she was delaying their reunion by wandering out here. She could see the youthful awe in Estel's eyes, and his lips were moving as though continuing his recitation to himself.

This alone told her that Estel was nothing like her friends. In her few dealings with mortals, there had always been a sense of awe, fear, and mistrust that set up an impenetrable wall between them. Until Willow and Buffy, none had ever looked beyond her obvious elvishness. Maybe it took being from a different world to see things more objectively. However, from all she'd heard of their world, the majority of people in all dimensions were the same; they automatically feared and rejected anything beyond the scope of their experience.

This now, with Estel, was worse. He clearly knew of her kind, had been raised by her own father, yet he still wasn't seeing her. He was seeing the tragically heroic characters of the tales he'd read. He was seeing Lúthien Tinúviel in her appearance and projecting a false mystery and mythology onto her existence. She was neither Lúthien in the flesh nor Lúthien reborn, she was merely Arwen --- who happened to look a lot like her ancestor. Nobody thought twice when mortals resembled their ancestors, she thought bitterly. And so she said nothing to the hopelessly young man before her, simply waited for the inevitable.

Estel was in shock. He was vaguely aware that he had risen to his feet while staring at the beautiful creature before him, but he couldn't guess how long their gazes had been locked. She looked impassive, ageless and unblemished. Her silvery-gray eyes glittered at him from a pale visage, surrounded by a mane of ebony hair. She was tall and slender, and her body held the faint luminescence common to elves. Her beauty made her glow ever the brighter, and his mind was brought roughly back to the story he'd been reciting before she appeared. It was as though he'd conjured her with his chanting. But how could that be?

There had been so many new and strange experiences since arriving in Imladris, and he felt privileged to have been entrusted with the knowledge and history of the elves. And living among them, it was one wondrous day of discoveries after another. The only shadow that had crept across his heart was the recent confession from Lord Elrond about why he was being fostered here. That was one reason to be grateful to his destiny, he supposed. Without it, he'd never have been brought into such an amazing, and mostly hidden, world. He turned his attention outward to the ethereal elleth before him. She had yet to utter a sound, and he couldn't help but wonder if she was real. Especially if she was who he thought she was. Nervously, he broke the silence.

"Lúthien Tinúviel?" he whispered, afraid to move and break the spell.

Arwen sighed inwardly. "Nay, not she," was all she was willing to reply to such a question.

He started at the sound of her musical voice. She was real after all. Sensing that the elleth was about to take her leave, he struggled to find something to say. Anything to keep her there. "Who are you then?" he blurted out, then cringed, embarrassed at his rude tone.

She smiled, the briefest of smiles, and he was in love. "I am Arwen Undómiel, descendent of she of whom you speak."

Estel's mind raced. "What are you doing here, Arwen?"

"My father is Lord Elrond," she replied simply, shifting restlessly on her feet. Speaking of her father reminded her of her purpose, and she was eager now to see him and set her fears to rest.

He looked surprised. "Of Course! I had forgotten that he had a daughter." Inwardly, he was kicking himself for not seeing the obvious familial resemblance between Arwen, Lord Elrond, and the twins. His thoughts had just shot automatically to Lúthien Tinúviel. He sighed, having the odd feeling that he'd somehow offended her in their brief conversation, but unsure how to fix it.

Arwen could sense his discomfort. "I have been living with my grandmother in Lothlórien, and am only newly returned to Imladris," she explained. "I must find my father now, he is expecting me. Well met, Estel." With that, she turned swiftly and began to move into the trees behind her.

"Wait!" Estel cried out, feeling breathless and unsteady on his feet. "How did you know my name?"

She smiled at him again, a larger one this time, and he knew he was lost forever. "My brothers have told me about you." She slipped quickly into the woods and left him flustered and alone by the river.

Meanwhile, the twins were taking advantage of Arwen's absence to work on their battle strategy. Upon entering the valley of Imladris, they pounced on their quarry. Elladan slung an arm around Buffy, while Elrohir inserted himself between the young women. The girls in question exchanged a puzzled glance.

"While dear sister is busy, we shall give you the royal tour," Elladan announced.

"Ai," Elrohir put in. "It will give us time to get to know one another better." He smiled enigmatically, and then noticed the confused stares he was getting. "I mean before our father monopolizes all your time for lengthy explanations, followed by your untimely execution for putting his dearest in danger," he explained swiftly.

Buffy leaned away from Elladan to make eye contact with Elrohir. Something was up. "You've smiled more in the past 30 seconds than you have in the whole time since we've met you. It's creepy, what gives?" she demanded.

He pasted on a hurt expression. "What gives is that Arwen clearly adores you both, so we want to know more about you."

"Agreed," Elladan added. "We do not have many mortal friends, and most certainly no friends from other dimensions. It is fascinating."

Willow and Buffy exchanged a suspicious look at his emphasis on 'mortal,' but silently agreed to leave it. "What would you like to know?" Willow asked. "Oh! We could tell you more of our Hellmouth stories…"

"Well," Elrohir began. "It must have been difficult for you to leave your loved ones behind. Did you leave anyone…special?"

"You mean like boyfriend-ly?" Buffy replied. "Not me. The

last…well, he…died…in our final battle. So, no – no leaving behind."

"What about Angel?" Willow asked sneakily, ignoring the slayer's death glare.

Buffy sighed, wondering how to sum up her complicated love life in a few words. "We hadn't been…us…in a long time, Wil. He was upset that I was leaving the dimension, sure, but I wouldn't be with him even if we'd stayed."

Forgetting the carefully observing twins, Willow thought back to their final day in L.A. and replied seriously. "He totally still wanted to be with you, Buff. And he was pissed that you chose me." Then the last part of her friend's statement caught up to her. "You really wouldn't be with him even if we were in L.A.?"

"Duh," she snarked. "Are you forgetting our bathtub deconstruction of the Buffy/Angel saga?"

Willow stared at her friend wonderingly. "So you really are over him. In the actually over sense, not just the have-to-be-therefore-you-are sense?" Buffy nodded and gave a little smile at her friend's gift for babble. "Wow," Willow gushed. "I can't believe it! I s'pose I thought you two would carry that forbidden torch right into your graves."

Buffy burst out laughing. "Well I did carry it into my grave once, if you recall." Willow giggled, neither noticing twin elves gaping at them. The slayer held up one hand in a three-finger salute. "Scout's honor, at my third death this Buffy will be completely torch-free."

They finally noticed their slack-jawed audience. Green eyes meeting hazel again, they burst into a fresh set of giggles. Willow wiped her eyes and acknowledged their companions. "Well, you wanted to get to know us better," she murmured.

The twins exchanged a calculating glance, and silently agreed to forgo their questions about what they'd heard in order to pursue their goal. Elrohir adopted a sympathetic expression and turned to Willow. "Did you leave someone special behind?"

She smiled sadly. "Not really. It had already ended before Buffy and I found out we were leaving."

It was Buffy's turn to smirk. Her hazel eyes glinted mischievously as she spoke. "Oh please. And you talk about Angel acting twitchy? What about Kennedy?"

"He was more than twitchy, Buffy," Willow interjected. "He had his dark and broody on in a big, 'itchin' to let the vamp out' way."

Buffy giggled. "Big Billowy Coat King of Pain?" she offered.

"Exactly!" Willow agreed. "That's a good one," she added.

"Riley."

"Ahh."

"Anyway, Wil, the point here is that Kennedy was the big scene stealer of the day."

The witch winced, remembering. "I think that was more about her resenting you for getting all the attention, Buff," she hedged.

Buffy shook her head vehemently. "Uh uh, doesn't wash. She was jealous, and she wanted you to choose her instead of me." She blushed suddenly at the implications of her words. "You know what I mean," she muttered. Willow looked at her strangely and shrugged imperceptibly. Turning to their elvish friends to escape the awkward moment, Buffy chirped, "So…" Her voice trailed off at their concerned expressions. "What?" she asked.

"Um, she?" Elladan finally gulped. They both stared at him blankly for a moment, and then Buffy gasped softly. Moving to stand beside Willow, she glared at the twins defiantly.

"Yes, Willow dates shes," she glowered, eyes flashing. "You gotta problem with that?" Her voice and stance dared them to challenge her.

"Nay, no problem," Elrohir smoothly interjected. "We were simply surprised because we did not know."

Elladan smiled at them both in a placating manner. "It matters not to us."

Buffy nodded and relaxed her pose, and Willow couldn't help but grin at her friend's growl-y defense of her. It was…well hell, it was downright sexy. She could feel the slayer's hand on her forearm, and her skin felt warm and tingly under her touch. Buffy turned to look at her, and their gazes locked. Willow shivered a little, and Buffy felt it. Eyes widening slightly, she brushed her fingers lightly along her friend's flesh and let them graze their way down to her hand. She held it gently, briefly, and then let go.

'Now why the hell did I do that?' Buffy thought to herself frantically as she blushed and turned away from Willow.

The twins shared a slightly worried expression. The group continued to walk in silence until Arwen rejoined them, set on finding Lord Elrond. Ten minutes later found them loitering uncertainly outside the city's enormous central hall.

"Adar has his main office and study in there," Arwen explained to them.

Buffy stepped forward to take the elleth's shaking hands. "Everything is going to be alright, Wen. You'll see." Willow approached and they enveloped Arwen in a hug.

"We'll wait right out here," Willow assured her.

"Once you've had your reunion, he can then proceed straight to kicking our asses," Buffy added dryly.

Arwen smiled a little. "Thank you," she whispered, and then disappeared into the building to face her fears.