Right after Glorfy delivered his award winning statement, Gil-galad and I both turned to Fe at the same time. I noted with reluctance that Glorfy's hand was no longer touching my hair, but he was still standing quite close.
Fe was staring at the ground, her hat in her hand, and her red-gold hair about her shoulders. She looked embarrassed that we'd been caught out, which was probably my fault, now that I think of it, because I'd just sat there and let Glorfy take my hat.
But hell…what was I supposed to do? If I'd resisted, they likely would have found some reason to kill me. If I could die again, that is. I'd already done it once. Even so, I wasn't up to see if I could again.
I watched Gil-galad finger her hair as he pushed it back from her ears and grinned for all I was worth. Fe must have been close to passing out. I could sense a Mary-Sue coming on…Ever notice how not cheesy these things are when you yourself is either writing them or experiencing them outright? Thought you might have…
"You tried to hide this," he murmured softly.
"We were afraid." Fe was still looking at the ground. I almost giggled, but didn't. I could practically see the puddle of jelly her knees were forming. She was reacting to Gil-galad almost as bad as I react to Glorfindel. But I refrained from giggling, for her sake. No sense in making an already awkward situation worse.
"Afraid of what?"
"We saw the Orcs killing people. So much had happened; our reactions were those of fear." As good an explanation as any…although I recalled our actions of that morning. Grabbing some guy who'd just gotten shot and then promptly demanding where we were wasn't exactly what I'd call a 'fear reaction', although that might make sense.
Once again, Isildur found it necessary to shove his oar in. "To lay a blow to my captain is to be afraid?"
I ducked my head, grin slipping for a moment, cheeks burning with sudden embarrassment. But then I looked up at Isildur and let loose a barrage of mind bullets. "You would have too, if you'd been in the same situation. We needed help, and he wasn't being at all helpful, no to mention he's a bloody bastard."
It was at that point I caught sight of Captain Arsehole in the group of Men. Oops. I grinned at him; he looked none too pleased.
After a moment in which Gil-galad seemed to think this over, he remarked loudly – without, mind, taking his eyes off Fe – that we should all go back to the camp, lest the Orcs return. He then told me to ride behind Glorfy, while Fe would ride behind him.
So that was how I came to be riding Minras again, with Glorfy in front of me, my arms about his waist, and a supremely smug grin on my face.
I was on top of the world!
"So," I said after a bit, to break the ice, as it were. The first contact that Glorfy had ever had with me had come at the expense of me groping his arse. It made for an uncomfortable situation. "How are things?"
"What things?" He seemed confused. Probably because I had his waist in a death grip and wasn't going to let go if he had to get the others to pry me off him with a crowbar.
"All things. The war, and the camp and…what else does one worry about at times like this?"
"They are as they are." Score one for Mr. Eloquence. Neither of us said any thing for a while, and group of Men and Elves were silent in the surrounding moonlight. Plenty of time for thought, though I would have liked to talk to Fe if she hadn't been riding up with Gil-galad at the head of the column. Somehow, yelling across didn't seem feasible. No sense in bringing back those Orcs. Short of singing, there really wasn't anything else to do but turn my head up and looked at the stars.
"Who is 'Jebebus'?"
The question startled me out of my sudden awe of the night sky – so many friggin' stars! – and I looked back down at Glorfy's back. He'd spoken over his shoulder. "What?"
"You said, 'sweet Jebebus.' I wondered who you were giving oath to."
"Oh," I said after a moment in which I realized that I must have spoken aloud. "No one in particular. Just a word my bro – I mean, that I made up a while ago." The sudden thought of my family left me sad. I would never see them again; it hadn't really hit me up until now, and really, in actuality, this realization hurt more than the Mack truck. At least I still had Fiona.
"Lady? Why are you sad?"
Damn his empathy! "I'm not. I'm just…just tired." It was lame, but true. I'd had a long day, filled with fanfiction, dying, being captured, escaping, fighting and then being caught/rescued. It seemed like a forever ago that we were seated in front of Fe's laptop, giggling like school girls on crack about one thing or another.
I closed my eyes against the sudden tears, and sighed, leaning my head against Glorfindel's back. I felt him stiffen slightly, but ignored it as the exhaustion and relief caught up with me, and I felt myself drifting to sleep…
Only to jerk awake as a pair of strong arms were lifting me down from Minras' back. I snuggled up to whoever was carrying me, though, since they smelled suspiciously like a certain super hot Elf, and was rapidly back to sleep.
When I next awoke, it was to the smell of something wonderful. I sat up from a pile of blankets only to find Glorfindel pouring a glass of something steaming out of a silver pitcher. He handed it to me and I accepted it gratefully. It was rather chilly, especially in my current attire. A glance down at my arms told me that my scrapes had been bandaged, although there was no telling what sort of bacteria was trapped in there with the rest of my systems. If I got sick from this…bah; no matter. I never did get sick from it, so it's a moot point.
"How long did I sleep?" My throat hurt, as it usually did whenever I woke up, and I stared bleary eyed at the gorgeous hunk of Elf across the tent.
"Not for long." Wow…this guy was better at hiding his emotions than Elrond. Never would have guessed there'd be someone better at pretending to be a Vulcan than Lord "Who-Pissed-In-My-Cornflakes?" Elrond.
I looked around. "Where the hell am I?"
"In my tent." He seemed unbelievably reluctant to admit that.
"Your tent?" I guess my eyes went wide, because he dropped the 'emotionless bastard' act and suddenly looked quite embarrassed.
"Nay, Lady, I took no advantage, although I will admit that it was hard not to, given that you wear less than any lady I have ever laid eyes upon, and yet still are covered." He was blushing to the tips of his pointy ears.
Should I take that as a compliment? Perhaps. I think what he meant was that 'taking advantage' was hard to avoid due to clothing that wouldn't let him be distant, but I wasn't going to speculate on that until later.
"Sorry 'bout that." He looked down for a moment, and I realized how cute guys are when they're embarrassed about such things. Made me want to cuddle him like a puppy, but I think his ancient Elvish dignity wouldn't have allowed for that. Pity.
"How came you by such strange garments?" He glanced down at my shirt and then looked up really fast. What the hell? Oh yeah…it was torn in a few unfortunate places too. Damn; I'd never find another shirt like this one; what a pisser.
I was also of two minds about his reactions. On one hand, I was flattered that he'd be flustered. That has to say something, right? On the other hand…they were only breasts, for crying out loud! Nothing to get all hyped about, really! But I suppressed these thoughts, and concentrated on a good answer for his question.
"I bought them." That's it… Short answers, Rhiannon, just like your stature. Fe will kill you if you give away too much, and you've seen enough Star Trek to know that meddling in another's culture is dangerous and stupid. Then, again, we'd already meddled in their culture, plus, if you want to get technical, it was now our culture. But still…how the hell would they react to 'yeah, I'm from a time when you world and everything in it is a story invented by a Man named Tolkien several thousand years in what could possibly be the future, and I got hit by a truck and ended up here'? Not very well, that's for sure. We'd likely end up in their idea of a mental hospital.
Hey wait a moment. Wasn't their idea of a mental hospital Valinor? The Gardens of Lórien or something like that? Wasn't it practically Heaven on Earth? I had read enough of The Silmarillion to know that much…of course, Fe had read more, but…
Wait…where the hell was Fiona?
"Where is my twin?" I looked around quickly, nearly spilling that hot drink.
"She is with the King." Looks like he was going for the short answers too.
"Doing what?" Dare I ask? Thinking back to what she found at the bottom of her backpack…then again, I had found…
"Being asked many of the same questions that you will be asked."
I looked suspiciously at him from my place on the blankets. "Like what? And are you sure that that's all Gilly-boy will be…" I stopped under his sudden glare, too tired to glare back or I would have.
"Do not refer to the King as such."
"Fine then," I muttered and added a particular insult that would have curled his ears had he known what I'd meant. He seemed to ignore this, which was probably a good thing.
To cover my sudden embarrassment, I sipped the steaming cup of…whatever it was, and found it quite to my liking. And alcoholic.
Fe will tell you that I have approximately zero tolerance for alcohol. Really, it only takes two coolers and I'm snarked, which I have been told is rather pathetic, given the level of alcohol in said coolers. This stuff had more, so I sipped it slowly, even though it was really damned good. A drunk Rhiannon on Glorfindel's hands would be most amusing, but only in hindsight, and only to other people.
"So," I said after a while, during which I'd actually twiddled my thumbs. I'd never done that before…it was quite interesting. At any rate, this is not how I envisioned my first real encounter with Glorfindel, and, trust me; since the morning, I had envisioned quite a lot of encounters of all sorts with Glorfindel. This just happened to not be one of the ones that my apparently extensive imagination came up with. "What did you want to ask me?"
"The King wishes to know many things."
"The King wants to know? I asked what you wanted to know." Call if flirting if you must, but it was only really half hearted. I was worried as hell for Fe. If she was harmed…a certain King could expect repercussions.
"I wish to know what the King wishes to know."
I looked closely at him. The light in the tent was coming from a lantern, and another source that I couldn't identify. "Why not ask us at the same time? I mean, don't get me wrong, Glorfy – I don't mind in the slightest being alone with you in a tent – but doesn't this strike you as a bit odd?" Really, it seemed more to me that they wanted to see whether or not we gave them the same story. Crafty buggers, they are.
"No."
I gave him a look and then shrugged. "Okay then, what do you and the King want to know?"
"From where do you come?"
Shit, shit, shit! What the hell would Fiona say? Sometimes, shared minds are not such a bad thing, especially when attempting to keep a story consistent. "Elsewhere. Not entirely sure. I don't remember." Ah…the blunt approach. Somehow, Rhiannon, I don't think it's the right one.
"You told the Prince Isildur that you came from the Great Beyond, but you denied the possibility of Númenór. Why?" Damn…this guy sure knew the 'intense' method of questioning. Made me wonder what sort of questioning she was getting from Gil-galad.
"Made sense at the time. I don't remember."
He paced about the tent for a moment and then turned back to me. "What do you mean when you said you had already died once?" He seemed particularly interested in this one. He even crossed tent and crouched down, leaning his face into mine. I wanted desperately to back up, but found myself frozen, which wasn't altogether a bad thing. After all he was right there, deep blue eyes staring into mine, a thirst for confirmation of something that had me confused. All I knew of Glorfindel stemmed from the part in FOTR where he lends Asfaloth to Frodo to get him away from the Ringwraiths.
"I – " I stopped and looked down from his intense stare. "It was a figure of speech."
"Meaning?" He seemed disappointed, and I felt the need to ease that.
"Meaning…something. Everything is jumbled."
He backed up and returned to his pacing about the tent. "What do you remember then?" His voice was much softer this time. The hair on the back of my neck stood to attention, and it suddenly seemed rather chilly. I wrapped myself in a blanket, hugged the hot drink closer, and cursed silently, wishing that Fe and I had worked out a story. I knew not to divulge our previous life, but damn it, my big mouth had already spouted too many details that I could not deny now. "I remember…first thing I remember is the field where we punched out Captain Arsehole."
"You do not remember how you arrived there?" Never knew how we got here…I just knew that we walked into the light; the specifics were more than likely beyond me. Damn it, I should be a politician. Twisting words seems to be a specialty of mine.
"Nope."
"What of any thing before that?"
"Not particularly, no." No one thing, anyway. I remembered lot of things, but I wasn't about to tell him that.
"Do you remember your family?" Damn. He was calling me on the slip up of my brother. Damn, damn, bloody damn! "Vaguely. I know I had…I'm sure I had at least one brother…maybe sisters…but the only family I know now is Fiona."
I was never much of an actress, and not really a good enough judge of expressions to tell whether or not Glorfy was buying this. It appeared to be so, although I knew he was more than a little suspicious. My stubborn denial of anything remotely resembling my past life – not counting the slip-ups from earlier – was more than likely the reason for this. Not that I blamed him; I'd be suspicious too, if I were him.
"What is your name?" Hadn't he heard it earlier? I was sure that he had. I told him anyway.
"Rhiannon." Boy, did he ever know how to pronounce a girl's name! Rolled it around in that exquisitely formed mouth of his as though tasting a fine wine (I know, I know…that made me cringe too; can't be helped). "It is an adequate name." Hold on…adequate? As if! Damn it, my name means 'great' or 'divine queen'! That's more than 'adequate'! But he was still speaking, so I didn't interrupt with my righteous indignation. "Will you permit me to give you a name of Elvish origin, if you have not one already?"
"If you believe you must," I replied. I really didn't see what was wrong with mine the way it was, but I was actually quite flattered that he wanted to give me an Elvish name.
He looked at me intensely for a moment before he spoke. "Minaimîr."
"What?"
"A new name for you; Minaimîr."
Sounded wonderful. "What does that mean?"
He said nothing, and only gave me a tight little smile, the first I'd ever seen cross his features. I nearly passed out. After a while, he spoke again.
"I will have them bring you water that you may bathe, Minaimîr, and clothes more suited for where you are now."
"Thank you, Glorfindel," I said, and found myself sincere. Even if I was more than a little confused at the name. It better not mean the Elvish equivalent of 'dumbass'.
With a small, slightly formal bow, Glorfindel slipped out of the tent and into…the rest of the tent. It was a big tent. With partitions.
I did not have to wait long for the huge basin of steaming water and a cloth – it wasn't big enough to soak in, unfortunately – and clean clothes. I'd drained my cup of steaming alcohol, so I poured myself another from the jug that was left near by. By which time I had a rather happy cloud about my mind and was singing very loudly, and likely quite off key, as I bathed myself. Can't for the life of me remember what I was singing though…
Halfway through this second glass, I stopped drinking it all together knowing that any more and I'd likely be snarked beyond all redemption. The clothes provided were hopelessly too big for me, and were likely made for an Elf a great deal taller – that'd be all of them – than I am. This was going to be interesting, to say the least. Definitely comfortable, that's for sure.
It never did occur to me, however, that if I was sleeping in Glorfindel's tent…where the hell was he going to sleep?
By morning I had my answer.