There was a battle a couple of days ago. Correction: there was another battle a couple of days ago. It seems that these days there's at least one every other day. Sometimes they last comparatively forever…sometimes the Orcs slack off and we can actually sleep for more than a few minutes at a time.

Thankfully, I've managed to learn how to go for a few days on end without any sort of sleep. Glorfy started in on teaching me that Elvish trick of walking the 'paths of dreams' while I'm technically awake. Not much success yet, but I'm getting better. But I must say: there's no substitute for a deep, deep sleep.

Right. Moving on. I'm sure I've probably mentioned that my sister is going a little fey on me (or a little 'Fe' on me? Hee hee hee! Sometimes I slay myself.) Meaning, latent precognitive abilities suddenly appeared. I think it's related (a little) to the fact that she's a bonded Elf. Some Elves (for example, Elrond) already have the Talent of Foresight, so I can't think of the idea that Fe has it as farfetched. I just wish that my precognitive abilities were as strong as hers now are.

Anyway, before the latest battle, I was having a reasonably comfortable sleep when Glorfy was called out. I dozed a little, wondering if I should also be jumping up when Glorfy returned and woke me with a thought.

The High Queen has predicted a battle, melyanna, he told me. Ready yourself. The Orcs will attack soon.

Not another one, I groaned. Bloody hell.

I rose quickly, though groggily, and got myself into my armour. My real armour, that is. Not that flimsy crap that nearly got me killed in front of the Gates. Ready, I kissed my husband soundly and set out to find Fiona because I'd told myself that protecting her fulfills two duties: 1) She's my sister and I protect my family, and 2) She's kind of my Queen. I'm still not quite adapted to this (in theory, she can give me orders as binding as Gilly's), but I'm sure I'll deal. Glorfy came with me because the command pavilion was on the way, and he was needed there. When he left me I had to suppress the feeling that I might never see him again. It would all work out. He was still needed three thousand years from now.

I was about half way across the camp when the realization struck me that something was terribly wrong with my twin and I had to hurry. My stomach dropped to my knees, and I sped up. But I didn't draw my sword yet even though I could hear the horrible sounds of fighting around me in the darkness – my mother had always taught me to never run with sharp objects. There were torches in the distance and I guessed from the way that they were jostling about that those in battle carried them.

I made a beeline right for where I intuitively knew Fiona to be. From the errant light of the torches I could see her, surrounded by Orcs and her guard…and swordless.

This made me annoyed. Who in their right mind trains a woman to use a sword and then tell her that it would be inappropriate for her to carry one? Honestly! I am going to have to have some strong words with Gilly about this. If she had had one from the beginning, she might not have gotten herself wounded.

I came barrelling up over a small hillock and began methodically hacking my way through the unruly Orcs around me. They died a lot faster than they had in previous battles, I noticed. This whole practical experience with a sword thing was really paying off. But not fast enough.

For every Orc I cut down another two or three would appear. It took for bloody ever for me to reach Fiona and her guards. I was almost there when a horn blew and Círdan's Elves slammed into the far side of the group of Orcs around my twin.

"To the Queen!" I heard someone yell. "Protect the High Queen!"

I watched Fiona, and saw her look relieved. She was distracted by the imminent arrival of reinforcements. My heart lurched into my throat as I saw an Orc take advantage of her distraction and slash his scimitar deeply across her arm.

Screaming in rage that such a foul creature would even dare to lay hands on my kin, I hacked my way even faster through the Orcs, sometimes not even bothering to kill them properly, but just kick them out of the way. I got to her just in time to see another Orc stab Fiona in the thigh with a spear. I dispatched it with no small amount of pleasure.

By then, Círdan's Elves had reached us, relieving for an instant the pressure of the Orcs around us. Fiona's guard regrouped quickly, Berialagor lifting my sister under one arm. "Get her out!" I said, though I don't think anyone heard me. I was too busy fighting Orcs to accompany them.

Her wounds weren't too bad, I told myself. She'll live. Kill the Orcs.

The sun was well up before I realized that the last Orc had been killed. Not the last Orc in Mordor, by any means, but the last one in the camp. Tired, I stumbled around, looking for a cleaner bit cloth for me to wipe my sword on. The blade was smeared and splattered with Orc blood. Not surprising, I was too. I desperately wanted a bath and wondered if Fe would mind lending me her tub for a day or two.

I suppose I should mention one other thing that seemed odd. I really am loathe to mention it because it seems somewhat silly that I would even think this, but I suppose I must for the sake of historical recordings and all that. Plus, it will explain why, for a day or two, Glorfy couldn't hear much and had to walk around with burn ointment on his right hand.

I think I might be able to control lightning.

Now, don't look like that. I did say 'might', after all. There's a very big chance that I'm just delusional. Let me explain.

At some point in the night, the sky started to get a little lighter. I say 'a little' because with the cloud cover, it was really hard to tell if day was dawning or if my eyes were being wonky. Either way, at some point I found myself backed up on an outcrop of volcanic rock (there's really no other kind around here), outside the protective wall of the camp. My darling husband was fighting his way towards me. I could see him and a few other Elves cutting their way through on horseback. Minras, that wonderful beast, was biting and kicking and doing his fair share of damage despite danger to his hamstrings.

The outcrop ended in a ledge some fifteen feet high. Beneath that was a broiling sea of Orcs and corpses of Orcs. In front of me and all around were the bodies of the Orcs that I had killed myself, and others that had been dead when I'd gotten there. It was only a matter of time before my sword was knocked from my hands. I dived to retrieve it and at the same time kicked the feet of an Orc out from under it. My sword clattered over the edge of the outcrop, landing on a small ledge – just out of my reach.

"Bloody hell!" I yelled and stood up, backing as far away as I could from the coming bunyips. I threw rocks at them, the first things my hands found. This only succeeded in buying me a little time. Needless to say, I was feeling a little desperate. Glorfy was still too far away to be of any assistance and I was weapon-less and running out of loose rocks.

But then the world slowed down to nearly nothing. All sound except for the beating of my heart faded away, and everything I could see took on a glassy quality. I felt my gaze being drawn up to the sky, to the seething clouds, and something inside went 'twing'. It was almost as if a circuit breaker inside me had been flipped, switched back on.

A white-hot, jagged line of light stabbed up from the ground and met its counterpart on the way down from the clouds. It flickered so fast that I almost couldn't tell if it were flickering at all, and it left searing white lines across my eyes. The crack was deafening; the shockwave picked me up and dashed me against the side of the outcrop. The air reeked of ozone and sulphur. I had been relatively close to lightning strikes before, but never this close. Orcs and bits of Orcs went flying around me. Those that hadn't been killed lay stunned.

I staggered to my feet, trying to see past the flash burn, wincing because I just knew that I was sporting some more bruises on my back. Glorfy was calling my name, both aloud and within my mind. I tried to tell him that I was okay, but I don't know if I got through.

Something went 'twing' again, and I looked up. My sight was blurred, almost gone completely, but I could almost feel…something, feel it reaching down from the sky towards me. I stretched out my hand, trying to touch it.

I don't have many words to describe what happened then. Whatever was reaching towards me touched my hand, and it seemed that I was greeting an old friend. The impression I got was that of a cat curling around the legs of a long absent master. My hand, and consequently my entire body, was covered in warmth. It felt almost fuzzy, like the softest of fleece blankets. I felt connected by this thing from the sky to the earth beneath my feet, a part of a larger whole, and one piece of the proverbial puzzle. Every hair on my body stood on end. Gradually, the fuzzy warmth receded from my limbs and settled itself around my solar plexus, and again I got an impression of a cat, this one curling up to go to sleep.

I blinked and it was over. And then I saw Glorfindel.

He was lying on his back. The fingers of his right hand were blackened and singed. His eyes were closed, and it looked as though his ears were bleeding. I was at his side before I realized that I'd moved – and that I could see again.

My love, I called him. Wake up!

I checked his pulse, terrified that I might not feel it; but it was there. I checked his breathing, and that was all right too. I breathed a huge sigh of relief when his eyes creaked open.

"Thank all that is holy," I breathed. I gathered him up in my arms and kissed him all over. "Oh sweet Jebebus! Can you stand?" I asked. "These Orcs won't stay stunned forever."

Glorfy nodded briefly. He winced. "Are you unhurt? I saw…" he trailed off. Images flickered briefly in my mind, but I could make no sense of them. "Where is Minras?" he asked as I helped him up. He was peering around, no doubt trying to clear his eyes of flash burn.

I squinted into the night. It helps that Minras glows in the dark. "Not far from here. He's unhurt, by the looks of it. But he looks skittish."

"We must reach him if we are to return to the camp with haste. Where is your sword?" Glorfindel asked.

"It went over the edge and I couldn't reach it," I answered, oddly embarrassed. One of the lessons that had been drilled into my head in the past few weeks was that one's sword is an extension of one's body, and one does not leave it lying around. After all – one cannot leave one's limbs lying around.

"I will get it," my husband replied. He limped over to the edge of the outcrop and knelt, reaching down to grasp the hilt of my sword – with his left hand. Straightening, he handed it to me. "You have short arms, Minaimîr," he said with a small smile.

"All the better to hug you with," I said with my own small smile. I shrugged when he didn't get the reference. "They're the only arms I've got."

I was actually very glad that my Golden Glorfy was able to joke; it was a sign that he wasn't seriously hurt. His hand though…I'd have to take a better look at it when our lives weren't in immediate danger.

On the way back down the outcrop, we killed some of the Orcs that hadn't been able to stand yet. No sense wasting an opportunity to lessen the Orcish population. It was a very long time after all of that that our battle was finally won; by us, that is. Until then, I didn't have the time or energy to wonder at the strange warmth that still inhabited my solar plexus, or for my darling to wonder about it either.

After some hours of cleaning up after the battle, and helping to bring in the wounded (and kill the wounded Orcs; no prisoners, no mercy), Sadoriel appeared from nowhere and told us to go rest. By then I was so desperate for a bath that when we got back to our tent, and I saw that someone had dragged in the big tub, I burst into tears.

There was a note on it from Fiona: Hey! Elrond told me that I can't risk a good soak until my wounds heal, so I figured that you might be able to get some use out of the tub. Treat it well, for it is a godsend. Hope you enjoy, Fe.

"Look!" I said excitedly to Glorfy. "We can have a bath!"

For indeed, it's a bloody big tub. And it was already full with hot, steamy water…

This time, I certainly didn't argue when Glorfindel offered to bathe me.

We slept for the rest of the day, which was absolutely wonderful. Staying awake days at a time is really only something I save for those battles that can't be pushed back. I woke in what I think was the early evening.

I turned over in the nest of blankets and pillows and looked at my golden Elf. He was snoring – actually snoring! – peacefully, eyes half closed. It was the closest I'd actually seen him to sleeping with his eyes shut. I smothered the giggle that threatened to escape and propped myself up on one elbow.

Beautiful…as only a male can be beautiful. So many definitions of beauty…I can't put words around it. I stretched out my right hand to push a few strands of hair away from his face. He had taken the regimental braids out of his hair to let it hang forward…soft, wavy, golden hair…I sometimes forget that his name means 'golden-haired'…

I don't ever want to forget this moment…I couldn't hear much noise from outside the tent, only the rippling fabric as the winds shook it. All I could smell were the sweet herbs they put in the water and the simple scent of maleness that my husband exudes. I can't really explain it…so I won't.

My hand left his face and travelled down his chin, down his neck and across his shoulders. Smooth skin…warm skin; flawless skin. Every muscle defined…downward my hand drifted until I reached his most ticklish spot, just above his hip. I risked a quick look at him to make sure that he hadn't woken from my caresses, and then very slowly began to trace small circles over his skin.

Shivers rippled up and down his skin. One arm jerked as though to move towards the invading touches, but stopped. He huffed and batted at me with his other arm. I bit my lip, trying not to laugh out loud. The circles became wider…and without warning, he snatched my hand.

Startled, I looked back up at him. His wondrous blue eyes were open fully now, narrowed at me playfully.

"What have I said about tickling me, wife?" he asked with a mock growl. Before I could even squeal, he flipped me on to my back and had both arms pinned against the ground with his left hand. His right was still in the rough bandage that had been applied earlier, but was looking much better. "Well?"

"Nothing that I immediately recall, husband," I said smugly. I enjoyed this game, no matter how many times we played it.

"Are you sure?" my husband asked with a decidedly wicked grin.

"Well, now that you mention it, I do recall a certain something…"

"Yes?"

I jerked and twisted as fast as I could, freeing both arms, much to his surprise. Both of my hands went for his ticklish spots, and I tickled him with a vengeance. He laughed in surprise and for a moment was too surprised to fight back…

And somehow, we weren't tickling each other any more…

I think I shall do the decent thing and insert the 'fade to black' line that will leave anyone who reads this (and who enjoys a certain level of smut) wondering just what we did after that. Since I'm not that dirty (I swear!) I shall leave it up to your imaginations.

Afterwards, as my darling husband slept pillowed on my breasts, I waited until he was deep in dreams before I gently levered him off and rose. I stuck my head out through the partition only to find more hot steamy water in the tub. Marvellous! I took full advantage of it, because I know full well that that tub isn't going to be in my tent forever.

Elrond came in while I was bathing, but I didn't much care. I was up to my neck in hot water and besides; he's seen me naked anyway. That sounds horrible, but he was the one that put the dressings on me when I was out for all those days, and anyway, it's not as though it's anything new to him. He didn't even flinch when he saw me in the tub, so I didn't make a fuss. Besides…it's not as though he could really see anything.

I guess seeing me naked and knowing that I am naked are two different things, though, because he did go a little red. Professionalism battling with years of skin taboos, I guess.

"I heard that Glorfindel burned his hand," he said, staring straight a head. "I would like to examine the burn to see if it needs binding."

I cocked my head to the side and looked at him. "Don't you have minions, or something?"

"'Minions?'" He asked puzzled.

"Yeah. I just thought you'd be really busy, what with wounded people and all. But you come every time we're hurt, even if it's just a little bump. I figure, you've got to have minions or else you wouldn't have any time to come visit. Otherwise, you'd just send them instead."

"I would have not described those under my authority 'minions', Lady Minaimîr. More like –"

"Underlings?"

He sighed. "If you believe so."

"Coo," I said, and leaned back in my tub. "Glorfy's asleep, though. I can wake him, if you want."

I smiled to myself, content in the knowledge that my husband was only asleep because I had thoroughly tired him out. Hee hee hee.

"Let him rest," Elrond said with a shake of his head. "But if the Lady permits, I will visit for a while. My 'minions' have everything under control."

I smiled up at him and realized that not once had he looked directly at me. "No probs, Elrond. I enjoy your company." I gestured at the chair by the desk. "Please sit. I'd offer tea, but I don't think that anyone in this world has any."

"Tea?" Elrond looked surprised as he sat down. "Of course we have tea. Many different kinds, in fact. Do you wish that I send for some?"

"Don't go out of your way," I said, feeling a little guilty. Here I am, playing hostess for the first time, up to my neck in bathwater and with no tea to offer the guest. My Welsh ancestors would be ashamed of me.

"If my lady wishes it –"

"Stop, Elrond. We both know I'm not anything that closely resembles a Lady."

"But, you are sister to the Queen –"

"And I'm up to my neck in bathwater. So relax! This is a visit, not an interview."

There was an uncomfortable silence for a minute or two as Elrond fished around for a topic. A few times he looked about to say something, but would glance up at the flaps separating the antechamber from the inner sanctum.

"Out with it, Herald," I said with a grin. "You've got something on your mind."

"I was wondering if you would permit me," Elrond began, "to ask questions about your history."

My eyes widened, but I supposed this really wasn't an inappropriate question. For one, I think that's it's a good thing that I managed to go for so long without anyone asking me too much about my past. In fact, that interrogation that Glorfindel gave me the first night we where here was pretty much the last time that anyone had asked.

"What do you want to know?" I wondered. "I don't remember much." That wasn't entirely true…but I must confess something. My memories have been getting fuzzier…fading. I'm absolutely terrified that I'll forget things like, what my mother's face really looks like, or the sound of my father's voice. "It was so long ago, now," I said, almost to myself. "So long ago it seems almost like a dream…"

I was struck then with a sudden burst of homesickness. Around the constricting of my throat I tried to tell Elrond that maybe this wouldn't be such a good subject after all. For now, anyway.

"I understand, Minaimîr," he said gently. "I haven't seen my brother for a very, very long time now."

I nodded, because I didn't trust myself to speak just then. The desire to see my mum and dad just then…to talk to them one last time…to even just be in their physical presence…

"So," I said when I could speak again. "How come you appear to be our personal physician?"

"How do you mean?"

"Well, like I said earlier, you do turn up whenever Glorfindel or I have injured ourselves in some way…that's why I asked you about minions."

"But the High King has placed you and your sister under my care," Elrond said, slightly confused. "It has always been so, since you first arrived. He trusted no one else."

"But…don't you have other patients?"

"Of course. The High King himself, your husband; Gildor and a few others. Mostly, however, my duties are elsewhere, such as with the archives."

"Oh." I really couldn't think of anything else to say to that.

It was right about then that Fiona stuck her head in the tent flaps and grinned at the sight before her.

"I see you're making good use of that tub," she said. Her eyes flickered to Elrond as he stood from his chair rather quickly. "Hello, Elrond. Fancy seeing you here."

Elrond bowed in her direction.

"My Queen," he said. "I did not expect you."

Fiona stepped the rest of the way into the tent, followed, as always, by Berialagor. I noted that she was limping slightly.

"How's the leg?" I asked.

She shrugged. "As well as can be expected, considering I had a spear through it."

"Marvellous!" I grinned.

"Please, your Majesty, sit." Elrond indicated the chair he had just vacated.

"Thank you," Fiona said gratefully. She sighed as she took the weight off her wounded leg. "I would give anything to be able to soak my leg in that tub," she said regretfully, "but unfortunately I can't risk softening the skin around my wound. A good hot bath will have to wait."

"Speaking of a good hot bath, anyone feel like dumping some more hot water in here?" I asked, leaning back.

"Get it yourself," Fiona replied with a grin of her own.

"I would, but I can't reach. And I'm not about to expose the Twins to this cold air." Actually the air in Mordor is quite warm. It also smells bad. I suppose it's to be expected, with all the volcanic activity, but still – blech! "Besides…I'm pretty sure it would be frowned upon, me flashing the Queen, and all."

"Suit yourself."

"I will get it," a new voice said. My golden Glorfindel emerged from the Inner Sanctum, wrapped securely in robes. There was a large split down the front where the robe closed, open down most of his chest…gorgeous. "My Queen," he said with a bow. "Forgive my appearance."

Fiona waved her hand dismissively, but looked away to give Glorfindel a little privacy. My eyes narrowed a little. It's rather surprising how much Fiona has changed since we got here. But then…maybe it's just that, after seeing so much carnage and nastiness, one Elf in a dressing robe really isn't that shocking.

I sighed contentedly as Glorfindel poured a bucket of hot water into the tub. It had been waiting near the partition.

You look damn sexy in that robe, I murmured into his mind.

None of that, melyanna. Now is not the time for roguish thoughts. He planted a quick kiss on the top of my head.

"If my Lady and my Queen will excuse me, I shall clothe myself more appropriately." He bowed and backed up towards the partition. "Lord Elrond," he said with a nod. Glorfindel vanished behind the partition.

"He's looking a lot better," Fiona commented. "I saw you two earlier today. You looked about ready to fall down."

"It was a rough morning," I answered gravely. Try as I might, I just can't be as cheerful when talking about battles. I try, because it's better than going mad from the imagery, but…when this is over, I'm going on a vacation to Lothlórien.

"What happened to his hand?"

It is not that I wanted to deliberately withhold information – but Elrond looked suddenly interested, and even Berialagor perked up from her position by the door. I hadn't had time to give any thought to my strange experience of the morning. In fact, I had put it right out of my mind for the sake of sleep and other fun activities. So I squirmed a little.

"I don't know," I answered truthfully. "I didn't see how it happened. One minute there was lightning striking the Orcs, and the next…he was lying on the ground with burnt fingers and a wicked case of flash burn."

I saw, Glorfindel said within my mind. I feel that you do not wish to share this information as yet, else I would speak aloud. But I saw what happened

Later, my lovely, I said.

"I would like to examine his hand, if he permits," Elrond said.

"I do permit," Glorfindel answered, coming out of the Inner Sanctum. He was dressed in a forest green tunic with silver trim and brown leggings. It was a variation on what he usually wore under his armour, and it looked absolutely gorgeous on him. There was a slight bell on the cuff of his sleeve…I've heard it said that bell sleeves on a guy just looks feminine…but then, people who say things like that have never seen Glorfindel wear them. I don't think he could look 'feminine' if he tried.

Elrond removed the hasty bandage that had been wrapped around Glorfy's right hand and I winced at the sight of singed flesh. I was not alone in my reaction. Fiona turned her head away and looked a little ill, but it did not last long. She schooled her features and turned back. This time, she did not flinch.

I covered my own right hand in sympathy, and felt the slight scar on the back of it. Ah…I'd forgotten it was there! My very first battle scar, from Lick-me's training session. I recalled the look of worry on Glorfindel's face when he bound it before my first big battle…how I'd thought that his concern was the wishful thinking of a fanfiction-addicted Tolkien nerd…and felt a nearly overwhelming wave of love and affection from Glorfy that made me smile.

"The scars will not be permanent," Elrond pronounced after a quick examination. "But you will need to bind it again with more ointment for two more days, and then expose the flesh to air to allow it to heal properly."

Glorfindel nodded. Elrond added something quickly in Elvish and I frowned, thinking I'd recognized a word or two. Not many, and only simple ones like 'me' and 'how'. I think, anyway. When you've been around Elvish as much as I have, you do tend to pick up a little of it. Even so, my understanding of it is far from complete.

Glorfy shook his head and responded in rapid Elvish as well. From his tone, I'm guessing it was "I'll tell you later."

In the mean time though…

"Ereinion has assigned us new jobs," Fiona said conversationally.

"Oh, really? Time for us to be useful in between battles?" I smiled, and Fiona grinned back.

"It appears so. During the last attack, the Quartermaster lost some of his staff. I volunteered us to help pick up the slack until more suitable people can be found."

"Bloody hell. Aren't all the lists in Elvish though?"

"Yeah. That's a good thing, though – we need to learn how to write the language."

"Good point."

"We're to report to Narwanár tomorrow after breakfast, barring any further attacks."

I groaned. This meant that I actually had to get up in the morning. My twin and I were silent for a moment before another thought hit me.

"So. I hear your precognitive abilities have decided to start working."

"Yeah." She shrugged. "It's very hard to describe."

"I bet it is. Today, though…today…"I trailed off, not sure how to continue. But at that moment, Elrond and Glorfy rejoined the conversation.

"I'm afraid that it is time I returned to my duties," Elrond said. "It is nearly time for the evening meal, after all, and there is still much work to be done."

"Thanks for visiting, Elrond," I said from my spot in the still hot tub. "Come back to visit any time. And next time I'll be ready with tea."

"My thanks also, Lady Minaimîr. My Queen, my Lord Glorfindel. Berialagor," he acknowledged them all with a deep bow and left.

"I should be getting back to Ereinion," Fiona said with a sigh. "No doubt he has some accounts he wishes to teach me about."

"Sure," I said with a large, mischievous grin. "That's what he wants. Accounts. Right."

Fiona flushed beet red, but she didn't rise to the bait. "I'll see you later," she said with a grimace and stood stiffly. "Bye, Glorfindel."

Glorfy bowed in response.

When we were finally alone, I rose from the tub and stretched. My wonderful husband had the towel ready before I even had to ask for it, and I wrapped myself up in its soft folds and sighed.

"I'm tempted to go back to sleep," I said with a barely stifled yawn.

"I am also, but alas I cannot," Glorfindel said. "My duties await."

I reached down and picked up his wounded hand. "I'm glad this isn't too bad," I said, holding his hand gently. It was wrapped securely in soft bandages. I was struck then by how big his hands are. Both of mine are dwarfed by just one of his.

"I almost lost you today," he said softly. "So close…I saw your sword get knocked from your hand, saw you fall. But then…" he trailed off, and again I had the flicker of images in my mind. Again, I could make no sense of them. "The lightning came from nowhere," he said with a shake of his head. "I can make no sense of it."

I shook my head myself, and tried to project what I had felt earlier that day. I really don't have words adequate to explain what it was, how I knew that the lightning was going to strike when it did…the warm fuzziness of…whatever it was that happened afterwards.

"I was nearly at your side when I saw you reach up towards the sky," Glorfy continued. "As you reached up, an arc of white light leapt from your hand and met its counterpart on the way down. It flickered…so hot! The very air cracked! I tried to pull you out of its path, but the searing heat of the light burned my fingers. You were struck by lightning, melyanna. It is a marvel that you are unharmed."

I looked up at my husband, not comprehending what he was saying. "Wait. I was…what?"

"The lightning engulfed you. I felt sure that you would be destroyed by it and despaired. But when I opened my eyes, there you were, leaning over me, calling me back from the brink where I sought you…" he trailed off.

"How…?" My mind would not give up the idea that I had been struck by lightning. "Why didn't it burn me?" I asked. I remembered the warm fuzziness and tried to imagine it hurting me. I was struck by lightning? Is that what happened?

"I do not know why it did not harm you," Glorfy answered, "but thank the Valar that it did not. As for why the lightning…chose you, I can only suspect that this is akin to your sister's sudden talent for precognitive visions."

"But why now?" I asked. "I don't get it."

"Perhaps, melyanna, this is not something that you are supposed to get."

Glorfindel would say no more on the subject, only held me close without a word. As it was, I don't think I could have stood to listen to another word about it anyway. Sometimes he knows just how to comfort me.

It frightens me how much I love him.

The next few days passed largely uneventfully. That's not to say that things weren't happening; just that most of what was happening was day-to-day activities and therefore very boring to write down.

Our jobs as Junior Quartermasters are progressing nicely. It's dull work sometimes, but it gives you something to do with your hands and also made me feel a little less useless. Also, my written Elvish has gotten to the point where I can almost make a series of squiggles that might, with a kind eye, be hinted at to be 'Minaimîr'. I've had to sign my name at the bottom of some inventory lists (especially requisition receipts, when new recruits show up looking for armour and bedding), and because I need to know how to write in Elvish, Narwanár suggested I sign my Elvish name. It's not so bad now, but the first few days I signed 'Rhiannon' without even thinking about it. Now I add 'Rhiannon' in brackets afterwards just in case no one can read my awful writing.

Fiona doesn't seem to be having this trouble. Her Elvish characters are sharp and clear. I think someone was probably teaching them to her before anyone thought to teach them to me. Or maybe it's just because she's Queen…

Whatever. It's unfair.

Well now…last week was…different. Seven whole days of…exercise… Seven days of appearing in the middle of councils to drag Glorfy away because if he didn't come right then there would have been severe death. Seven days of pure hell. Seven days of pure heaven.

I can't really decide. It was a little of both.

One minute, I would be calm, collected…writing…and then the next…

Animal. Primal. Primitive. Whatever. Words that mean 'really, really bloody horny'. I was, as my (very exhausted) husband said, "insatiable." Poor guy…I vaguely remember a few times when other married Elves would give him pitying looks, while the Men around would grin and slap each other on the back and make lewd jokes. I know they were lewd jokes because men don't really do much else when an animalistic she-Elf comes storming into the command pavilion, grabs her husband by the arm and hauls him off. I heard rumours today that, after the first two days, Glorfy would actually beg someone to hide him.

Poor boy.

Thank goodness it's over now. You would not believe how bloody sore I am right now. Unless you've gone through a week much like this one. To stretch my legs, and catch up on events, I went for a walk with Fiona and Berialagor today. Our men were off doing whatever the hell it is that they do, so I had time to find out a whole bunch of stuff.

"So Gilly had to make arrangements?"

"Yeah," Fiona answered. The stiffness was almost completely gone from her limbs. (Damn. This means I'll have to give the tub back soon.) "Half a dozen or so of some of the best healers were out of commission for as about the same amount of time as you were." She grinned.

"Don't start," I warned, my face going beet red. I know that grin. "Just you wait. It'll happen to you soon enough, and then you'll know exactly how it feels."

Fiona looked thoughtful for a moment, and then a series of emotions flickered quickly across her face and were gone. She's learning, very quickly, to hide her emotions. I guess that there are people out there who would try to take advantage of a Queen that is quick with her emotions…or too obvious with them. I'm going to have to learn some of this intrigue stuff.

"Funny how we all went through it at once though," I said a moment or two later.

"Yeah," Fiona agreed.

"Maybe it's one of those cyclical things; women getting in sync with one another or something."

"Maybe," Fiona agreed. She shrugged. "I'm just glad it missed me," she said wryly. "Ereinion is tired enough as it is."

"You'll get your turn," I said darkly, but with a huge grin. But I didn't get to say any more, because at that moment Fiona put her hand to her head and swayed a little.

"Whoa," she said. I put my hands out to steady her.

"Fe! You alright?" I asked at the same moment that Berialagor stepped forward.

"My Queen! I will have Elrond fetched at once."

"No, Berialagor," Fiona said, straightening up and shaking her head a little. "I'm alright. Just a little dizzy, that's all."

"You sure?" I asked and she nodded. "I think it's about lunch time anyway. Feel like dropping by the dinning tent for the stew of the day?"

"I think I'll have a meal brought to me," Fiona began.

"Oh no you don't," I said quickly. "You haven't been out of that tent in far, far too long. Foul as the air is around here, it's fresher than the stuff in your tent." She looked about to argue. "Besides," I added quietly. "If this lot of soldiers start wondering if you're sick their morale will drop. Can't have that happening."

I'd meant it as an incentive for Fiona to stay outside, but my words had a disturbing amount of truth to them. The air is foul here in Mordor, and I would have bet good money that my twin really did not want to be around people just then. But after her wedding to Gilly, morale rose so high around here that the army carved its way to Mt. Doom in little over a week and with few casualties. Like it or not, Fiona had become a cause – rather, the symbol of a cause.

Fiona nodded. "To the dinning tent, then," she said. "Lets see if the chef has managed to come up with something edible."

I had to smile. It had been a while since we'd eaten proper food. I guess being in Mordor could be a big part of this.

"So, did you see the latest batch of reports?" Fiona asked while we walked.

"Yeah. If I see another reserve soldier looking for a uniform…"

"New recruits need armour too."

"I know, I know. Can you believe that the quartermaster forgot to order enough onions, though?" I said in a mockingly shocked voice. "I mean really, you can't have enough onions. Nope. Not this camp. No where near enough onions to go around."

Fiona laughed. "I thought you liked onion soup."

"Not when it's all you've had to eat for a week, breakfast, lunch and dinner," I said emphatically.

"I'm surprised you had time to eat this past week," Fiona said with a wicked grin.

"Oi! None of that!" I replied, face returning to its most uncomfortable shade of red.

Fe kept silent, but was grinning for all she was worth.

"I think I prefer a little meat in my diet anyway," I said eventually, deliberately trying to turn the conversation back to food. There were far too many people around for me to be too dirty.

"I would have thought a solid week of Glorfindel would have satisfied your craving."

"None of that, I said!"

Thankfully the dinning tent came into view and we found a table. We weren't there long before two elves appeared carrying bowls of stew and hunks of bread, a plate of cheese, three goblets, an ewer of wine and what appeared to be fruit. And utensils. Being sister to the Queen has its perks, I guess. I did feel like a bit of a ponce though, because I didn't wait in line like everyone else.

"How's Gilly doing these days?" I asked after we'd had time to dig in. I noticed happily that Fiona was eating with gusto. Looks like she was hungry after all.

"Not much," she replied after she'd swallowed. "The usual."

"Kingly duties and all that?" I asked.

"Yeah. I don't get to see him as much as I would like."

"You could always pretend to be going through your 'week'," I said with a grin. It was her turn to blush, and I wasn't disappointed.

"Hey!"

"What?" I asked innocently. "It's the perfect excuse." I ignored the sounds of Berialagor snorting her wine in shock.

"I am not going to pull him away from his duties just to…" Fiona stopped mid-sentence and frowned.

"Fe?" I said worriedly. "You've gone all pale."

"I feel…"

"My Queen, I insist that we return to your tent now," Berialagor said quietly, her previous distress completely forgotten. "I will have someone bring the food."

"No, it's okay…it'll pass, I just need to…"

But she didn't get to finish her sentence because her eyes rolled back in her head and she slumped at the table. Berialagor and I got to her at the same time.

There were startled gasps around the dinning tent.

"You!" I pointed at the nearest Elf, a member of Fiona's guard who'd been surreptitiously guarding her from the next table over. "Fetch Elrond!"

He nodded and took off at a run.

I checked her pulse and breathing. Both were going strong. Thankfully she hadn't hit her head. "Help me get her up," I said. "We need to get her to her bed." Hooray for first aid training.

With Berialagor's help we stood Fiona up between us. Thankfully, her luxury tent (three rooms!) was not exceedingly far from the dinning tent so it did not take very long for us to reach it, the majority of her guard appearing from practically nowhere and forming a protective square around us. By that time, Fiona had started to come around.

"Let me sit," she said when we got through the flaps and into her antechamber. I helped her to a chair as Berialagor turned and stuck her head through the tent flaps. I heard her ask to have a pitcher of water sent.

"You alright?" I asked again. Damn it. So many people had seen her faint too. "There are going to be rumours everywhere now. Oh well…I'll see if I can spread a story that it was just the fumes in the air that made you dizzy. Hopefully that will work. Can't have everyone worried about their queen now, can we?"

She smiled wanly at me. "Thanks."

The water arrived at the same time as Elrond. In fact, he brought it in himself. Sadoriel appeared a moment behind him with some clean cloths and dipped them in water from the washing stand.

"Tell me what happened," Elrond commanded quietly.

"She passed out at the table," I answered. "She'd had a momentary dizzy spell not ten minutes before too, but I convinced her to get something to eat."

Elrond nodded absently. He frowned and put his hand to Fiona's forehead. "No fever," he said, almost to himself. He tilted up her chin and looked at each of her eyes. "No head wound," he murmured. He put a hand on either side of Fiona's face and concentrated for a moment.

He stood up an instant later, looking very grim.

"My Lady Minaimîr," he said quietly. "Please bring the High King to us."

"I would rather not leave her –" I began.

"Please, Minaimîr," Elrond said quietly. "This is a mission that only you can fulfill. I would send Berialagor, but I fear she has had orders not to leave the queen's side for any reason."

"Okay then. Don't worry, Fe," I added. "I'll be right back."

The command pavilion was not far from here, I thought. Though, it would look really stupid if I ran. Not stupid, actually. Just conspicuous. I just hoped Gilly was there when I got there.

I actually ran into him half way there.

"She's fine," I said when I reached him. "Elrond is with her now."

My brother-in-law looked subtly relieved. "Thank Eru."

"I think it was the air," I said, hoping that that was all it was. "It's smells pretty nasty around here."

"That it does," he agreed, without expression.

We walked side by side for a while. I think it's the first time I've been alone with him since we got to Middle-earth. I may just be paranoid, but I always get the feeling that he's not too thrilled to have me as a sister-in-law. Well…too bad. He's not getting rid of me.

After the most awkward two minutes of my life, we made it back to his tent.

"Elrond?" he asked as he stepped in the door.

"She is safe, my Lord," Elrond said quickly. I noticed that he'd sent Sadoriel out of the room; I hadn't seen her outside the tent so I assumed that she had been sent to fetch something. "A minor fainting spell, not caused by fever or poison."

"But caused by what?" Gilly wanted to know, face expressionless.

Elrond looked from Fiona to Gil-galad to me, and then glanced warily at Berialagor. He motioned us close, and we moved in.

"You may want to sit down, my Lord."

Turns out that I was the one that needed to sit down. Bloody hell.