A/N: I hope you will forgive the length of time it took to update this story. BoL and I (Anon E. Mus) have had some minor arguments over points of what I have written for this chapter…which is why there has been a slight…*choke*…delay. Anyhow, it's here for you to enjoy once again from "Fiona's point of view".

************************************************************************************************************

  The water in the basin was hot, but I found it rather chilly standing naked in Gil-Galad's tent, trying to give myself a bath with a cloth. I was glad when I could put clothes on. My back was to the tent 'door' if you can call it that, since I was paranoid about somebody walking in on me. The wind had picked up sometime between my interrogation and when Gil-galad brought the basin of water in. I was surprised he'd seen to it personally.

  The wind blew now, rustling the fabric of the tent, but the pegs held the tent strong and now wind got in to chill me. Something I was grateful for.

  I looked on the clothes Gil-galad had left for me and realised there was definitely no underwear…and I was not going commando! The image of myself having to run without a bra made me giggle (you don't have to think about it you don't want- I'm not forcing you to!). Therefore I reached into my bag (which the Men and Elves had still forgotten to confiscate, though this was much to my advantage), and shuffled through until I reached those certain embarrassing items at the bottom. Sifting through them, I found the most decent pieces of underwear that there was- and there wasn't much of a choice to begin with- and slipped them on. I noticed that quite a lot of it was black. There was red and white, but the majority of the lingerie was black. And all of it was silk.

  Alright, I'm sure I've given too much information, but it's easier for me to explain this now than later when such knowledge will be necessary for your understanding of my side of the story.

  I pulled on the soft Elven garments- shirt, tunic and leggings- and turned around. I froze, choking on my very breath.

  Freaking mother of crap!

  Gil-galad raised an eyebrow. "Forgive me, I didn't realise you were still dressing," he said calmly, as if nothing had happened.

  "How long have you been standing there!?" I demanded, shocked beyond manner and reasoning.

  "Only a moment. I am sorry to have interrupted. But as you see, there are no doors to knock upon." He couldn't hold back a smile, watching my flustered reaction. "I doubt I saw anything that you believe I have, which has caused you alarm."

  It took me a moment longer before I realised how rude I'd been about something which had clearly not happened. Oh, you know what I mean! "I'm sorry, I didn't…I shouldn't have been so rude."

  Gil-galad inclined his head in acknowledgement. "If you care to join me, we will walk the Elves' camp-"

  I could've killed Elrond when he interrupted. My stomach was doing all kinds of flip flops and with butterflies to boot. Damn it! I was enjoying myself! That might have had something to do with the way Gil-galad seemed to be broaching a territory in which he was not the confident, calm and collected High King of the Elves. Hee hee hee…

  "My Lord King, Lady Anórmír," Elrond inclined his head. His mouth twitching with amusement, he continued. "Lady, there seems to be…a disturbance…with your friend."

  My face fell. Fucking bloody hell…what was Rhiannon doing now?

  Without hesitation, I marched out of the huge tent- the flap openings fluttered in the breeze so it was fairly obvious as to how I was to get outside. From there, my hearing could easily pick up the sound of Rhiannon singing and I headed quickly in the direction of her voice (which was none too sweet, but all too loud and clear as she is when drunk).

  Glorfindel stood to one side, along with many other Elves, I have to add, watching Rhiannon dance (if she were back home, there'd be no problem, but clearly this sort of dancing was not acceptable in this place and Age). I was about to step in and stop her from singing whatever song it was she had been singing before, but she saw me and started the song all over again. I froze in astonishment.

Sweat baby sweat baby sex is a Texas drought
Me and you do the kind of stuff that only Prince would sing about
So put your hands down my pants and I'll bet you'll feel nuts
Yes I'm Siskel yes I'm Ebert and you're getting two thumbs up
You've had enough of two-hand touch you want it rough you're out of bounds
I want you smothered want you covered like my Waffle House hashbrowns
Come quicker than FedEx never reach an apex like Coca-Cola stock you are inclined
To make me rise an hour early just like Daylight Savings Time

  Why, oh why, could not the earth just open and swallow me up? I imagine that if Rhiannon had been in the state of mind to realise exactly what she was doing, she'd feel much the same. But then again, if she were in the state of mind to realise what she was doing, chances are, she wouldn't have done it at all.

  I turned to Glorfindel. "You gave her alcohol, didn't you?" I queried despairingly.

  Glorfindel glanced at me and then turned as Rhiannon continued her singing into the chorus…

Do it now
You and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals
So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel
Do it again now
You and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals
So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel
Gettin' horny now

  "Glorfindel," I began suspiciously, before realising that I probably shouldn't be addressing him by his first name. Damn formalities! "My Lord," I added quickly, my tone not leaving behind its sarcastic edge. "Did you per chance give my sister wine? Of any sort?"

  This time Glorfindel seemed better able to tear his attention away from Rhiannon's singing and dancing, as he replied, "I did indeed pass the Lady a goblet of wine whilst I asked her of whence she came." He glanced at Rhiannon and then back at me. "My Lady, these songs should not be sung by your sister. I am astounded that a Lady would know such a song! These…topics…are not suited for Ladies to hear."

Love the kind you clean up with a mop and bucket
Like the lost catacombs of Egypt only God knows where we stuck it
Hieroglyphics? Let me be Pacific I wanna be down in your South Seas
But I got this notion that the motion of your ocean means "Small Craft Advisory"
So if I capsize on your thighs high tide B-5 you sunk my battleship
Please turn me on I'm Mister Coffee with an automatic drip
So show me yours I'll show you mine "Tool Time" you'll Lovett just like Lyle
And then we'll do it doggy style so we can both watch "X-Files"

  Rhiannon's singing was attracting more attention. I looked around desperately for something, maybe or pole or stick so I could whack her over the head and knock her unconscious with, but instead my eyes found Gil-galad at the front of the crowd. When I looked at him, his gaze was not focused on Rhiannon as all others were, but on me. Normally I would have blushed, but seeing him, gave me inspiration for a plan to get Rhiannon to quiet down.

  "My Lord, is there a tent that we may take my sister to?" I asked.

  "There is my own, as the Lady Minaimîr came from just now." Glorfindel replied.

  I pointedly ignored the fact that he didn't look at me when he spoke; his eyes were firmly glued back on Rhiannon's form, as she continued her sensual dance.

  I know, Rhiannon, I'm sorry. 'Sensual' is a despicable word, when you were only dance the way most people do when in a nightclub, but this wasn't a nightclub, and to Glorfindel, I imagine it was among the most…I don't think there's even a word for it…dancing he'd ever witnessed.

  "Go up to her and make it a suggestion," I advised. I don't think at that point Glorfindel got my line of thinking. But then, I don't think that he was thinking at all…at least, not with his head.

  "Are you sure she would come with me? I do not wish to hurt her should she refuse," Glorfindel queried.

  "Just tell her that she needs to come back to your tent. I doubt she'll protest in the least," I answered, crossing my fingers. I knew how she felt about Glorfindel; so as long as it was Glorfindel taking her back to his tent…no problems.

  May I gloat now? I've had many moments of genius, but I feel this one is the one to top them all. Possibly because it was as much funny as brilliant. None of the others have ever had me laughing so hard once I was out of hearing range.

  Glorfindel stepped into the circle of Elves where Rhiannon was dancing and she stopped almost immediately. "Minaimîr, my Lady, will you come with me?" he asked gently, holding out his hand.

  She accepted his hand without question, but questioned, "Where are we going now?"

  "To my tent, Lady," Glorfindel smiled.

  I don't think he realised that she would take it the way I knew she would take his offer, but the smile on his face suggested to her the real meaning of what I wanted her to think. I wish you all could have been there to see the wicked grin that lit her face he said that.

  "Let's go then!" she declared, the Elf-crowd clearing a path for them.

  I sniggered and tried to cover my mouth to hide the grin and laughter behind it. My glory and amusement was short lived however, as I felt a hand upon my shoulder. I turned to find Gil-galad, smiling down at me.

  I'd always know he was tall; taller than me, certainly. But it never struck me about how tall, until that moment, when I had to tilt my head back to look at his face. Wow…he's awe-inspiring when you see him for the first time, but seeing him from such proximity? Unspeakably…wonderful…

  "I believe, my Lady, that I promised to show you around the camp of the Alliance?" he murmured in his deep rich voice, sending a shiver of excitement down my spine.

  "Of course," I smiled back, trying to seem calm, but probably failing badly.

  Give me a break, if you were the one suddenly in Middle Earth and meeting an Elf for the first time,, you'd be just as…speechless…as I was. I fumbled for words constantly, just trying to make light-hearted jests about the place, as Gil-galad showed me around. He didn't seem to notice when I stuttered or hesitated (or that I wasn't really paying attention to where I was, instead concentrating on his beautiful voice…).

  It was definitely evening by the time, Gil-galad took me back to his tent, although I did not consciously acknowledge it. Dinner was served upon a small table- Gil-galad's desk- but where only a single chair and waited before, now there were two.

  The evening meal was a quiet affair, with only Gil-galad breaking the silence to remark, "The song your sister sang, the likes of which have never been heard before in Middle Earth. What is it called? And how did she come by it?"

  "I believe," I replied hesitantly; I was touching upon dangerous grounds which could reveal our true origins…as you must have figured out by now, I was certainly not going to mention 'how she came by it'. "That the song is called, 'The Bad Touch', my Lord." Did I mention before that I loathe formalities? I was sure I said the wrong thing, but Gil-galad showed no sign that I had addressed him improperly, so I continued. "I do not recollect how she came by it, only that it is seems familiar to my ear."

  Gil-galad nodded, then polished off the rest of his meal. I looked at the amount left of the plate, and grimaced. It surprised me that during war-time, they could have so much food to offer; too much for me to eat, and back home I usually cleaned my dinner plate like a vacuum. Then again, it was never half the size of what the Elves had offered me here. I settled my cutlery neatly on the plate and glanced around the tent. There was a bed, to one side, not much more than many fine decorated blankets on the tent floor. Presumably you'd climb under as many as the weather demanded.

  "No doubt you are wondering where you will be sleeping, during your time here," I heard Gil-galad say.

  Almost guiltily, I looked back at him. His beautiful eyes sparkled with the amusement that was evident by his expression.

  "It had just occurred to me now, yes," I answered with a small smile, looking demurely down at my hands twisting in my lap. His gaze was so intense.

  "You will sleep there," he gestured at the bed I'd be analysing. "I thought it best to keep you close."

  "As you wish," I agreed softly. He thought it was best to keep me close; and in response to that I had two questions – 'Just me?' and 'Why?' I did not voice them though. I strongly suspected, in fact I was almost completely positive, that he had just given me his own bed. I wondered dreamily whether he'd be sharing it with me. Part of my mind shrieked at the notion and firmly told it that it wasn't prudent or proper for me to sleep with an Elf I'd only met that day, and knew only as he appeared. The rest of my mind, coupled with my eager body, squealed in delight and anticipation. I'd never felt like that for anybody, and I think I shocked myself with how I could openly admit that I was attracted- in more ways than one- to this High King of Elves.

  I felt Gil-galad's hand on my shoulder and I shook my head, trying to focus properly.

  "You are tired, Anórmír," he said softly, even gently. "Rest now."

  I gave him a tired smile and he helped me over to the bed. I must admit, that propriety-concerned part of my mind screamed when I considered the possibility that I had been right in guessing he was going to join me…but no such luck. Did I just think that??

  I was vaguely conscious of the fact he went back to his desk and I was almost asleep with my drowsy consciousness alerted to the gentle stroking of my long hair.