Chapter 22
Bright and early the next morning, Natasha was up and anxiously going through her closet of borrowed clothing, cursing that the seamstress was not due until later that week. Tossing a couple gowns across the backs of a couple chairs, she threw herself down onto the vanity stool and fussed with her hair in growing frustration as the tangles refused to be removed. Having forgotten to put up the mental block, she was soon joined in her agitated fidgeting by a sleepy Nigel who took over command of the brush and set to smoothing her auburn hair with fluid, calming strokes.
((That bad, huh?)) Nigel asked, concentrating on a particularly nasty snarl. ((I haven't seen you this nervous since the prom.))
((I feel more nervous tan I was then, if that's possible. I've never felt this kind of…giddiness before. I fell so light and jumpy.)) Natasha replied, bouncing on the stool to emphasize her point.
((Well, you'll have to hold still while I finish with you hair.)) Nigel chuckled. ((Have you decided which of those you're going to wear yet?)) he nodded towards the gowns. ((Personally, I'd go with the lighter of the two blues. The one with the gold trim. The blue will accentuate your hair while the gold will warm up your pale skin.))
Trusting her twin's judgment, Natasha stepped behind the dressing screen to put on the gown in question, stepping out again for Nigel's assistance in fastening the multitude of buttons.
((No wonder some men here think women are the weaker sex.)) Natasha griped. ((We can't even get dressed without help. I can't wait to get back into a tunic and leggings again. And to Hell with what anyone else thinks.))
((Yes, leggings are so much more practical than a gazillion impossible to reach buttons.)) Nigel chuckled, finally finishing and stepping back to admire his sister. ((Damn! Those two won't know what hit 'em.))
Smiling in pleasure, Natasha looked at hr reflection in the mirror, nervous hands smoothing out imaginary wrinkles in the soft fabric or patting non-existent stray hairs back amongst the others. Her hair had grown so much since she'd last worked at the Med Station, now reaching just past her shoulder blades. Nigel stood behind her, also watching the mirror, and squeezed her shoulders comfortingly before stopping the nervous movements of her hands with his.
((They already like you, Tas. Just be yourself. Everything else will be as it should as long as you stay true to yourself.))
A knock on the door prevented Natasha from replying and the twins turned to hind Gandalf's head sticking in the, his usual mysterious grin replaced b a much more serious expression that showed his years all the more. Coming fully into the room, he did not immediately speak, but looked around the room as though appraising it, before his eyes landed on Natasha. Eyes widening, he let out a low appreciative whistle, receiving a dark glare from Nigel.
"I may be old, young man, but I am far from dead or blind." Gandalf chuckled, offering an arm to Natasha and leading her from the room. "I assume all this preparation was for you day with a certain pair of elves? Unfortunately, you will have to postpone your outing, as Lord Elrond has called a Council and we must attend." he continued with a hint of regret in his voice, before turning to Nigel. "Lindir asked me if I could request your presence in the gardens this morning, where you were yesterday. He wishes to go over the music you have been showing him again."
"Oh no. He's going to corrupt the musicians of Imladris with his definition of tin-earred music." Natasha groaned playfully, receiving a playful shove from her twin.
"Besides, I'm sure Natasha can keep you informed as to the proceedings of the Council. I see no reason to bore the both of you." Gandalf continued.
"Gee thanks." Natasha muttered under her breath, giving Nigel a quick hug.
Nigel departed for the gardens, leaving Gandalf and Natasha to head in the opposite direction to where the Council would be held.
"Now Natasha, I'm sure I don't have to tell you to behave yourself." Gandalf said after a moment. "There are men from Gondor here today, and as you've seen, some can have rather archaic ideas of a woman's place. Do try to remain civil with them."
"Of course." she replied lightly. "I have no intention of embarrassing either of us in such a manner, nor of giving them anything to use against me. Besides, I have more subtle ways of dealing with their prejudice." she grinned ferally. Gandalf chuckled and the rest of the walk passed in silence.
Shortly they arrived at the Council. Frodo was all ready seated as were several dwarves and a group of elves clad all in dark grey, from the Grey Havens, Gandalf told her via mind speech. Between the dwarves and elves, sat three men of varying ages, the youngest of whom was blonde and wore his facial hair in a goatee. His eyes widened upon seeing her before narrowing to slits of barely concealed contempt as she took her seat beside Gandalf.
Legolas and two other Mirkwood elves sat to her left, while Strider and his brothers, Elladan and Elrohir sat across from her, all looking uncomfortable in their formal attire. At the head of the Council. Lord Elrond sat flanked by his Seneschal, Lord Glorfindel, and his advisor, Lord Erestor, the latter of which Natasha had only heard tell of from Strider and Gandalf. Rising gracefully from his chair, Elrond ha barely taken a breath to speak when the young man from Gondor spoke.
"Why must there need be a woman at this Council? Send her back to her bower, her needle and thread."
"She is here as Mithrandir's apprentice, Boromir, son of Denethor. And if that is not enough to require her presence, she is also here at my request. That should be sufficient need for you." Lord Elrond replied coolly
"Bah! What does she know of the world and its governing? Of the matters of men?" Boromir spat, plunking himself down in his seat to glare at her.
"A great deal more than you at this point, my lord." Natasha answered, throwing every ounce of contempt into her words while keeping her voice pleasant to the ear, not an easy task, mind you. "Perhaps if one were to be a little patient, one would receive the answers to one's questions instead of demanding them like a child."
The Council was silent as Natasha finished, Boromir's companions looking sufficiently embarrassed to spare some for their younger companion. Legolas, Strider and the Peredhel twins, at first startled by her rebuke, now smiled with pride while Elrond barely concealed his smug smirk.
((Not bad.)) Gandalf praised in her mind. ((Just a touch of ice would have added to the effect, though.))
((I'll keep that in mind for next time.)) Natasha hid a smile behind her hastily raised hand as Elrond launched into his speech, telling of the impending doom that lay over them all and of the events leading up to this moment, starting at the very beginning, with the forging of the Rings of Power.
The tale lasted well into the afternoon, only breaking once with an interruption from Lord Erestor, to take refreshment and stretch their legs before returning to the matter at hand.
And so the tale of the One Ring began, and had not even been finished midway when the Council retired for the day to meet again in the morning. For there were thousands of years of history and many people with tales to tell. There was so much information swimming in Natasha's head that the next day, she couldn't remember how she had gotten to her room nor falling asleep. She was not destined to have a restful night.