Reminder:: Nuuupe.

I'm rolling out these chapters a little faster now. We're so close! I'm almost kind of sad…

Chapter Forty-Seven :: The Elves

I had been invited, but I was a little wary. After all, I was a bit unstable and a room full of elves certainly didn't feel like a remedy for stress.

Still, I found myself in the nicer of the two dresses that were in my wardrobe and seated after the wedding ceremony at a long table with people who I assumed to be nobility. Many of them I did not recognize, but a few were the same old nobles under Denethor. More than half of them, to me, appeared to be those of the Dúnedain. The men of the north. Bright eyes, dark hair, and grim mouths. They were friends and kin of the King Elessar though, so I was honored to be seated with them. …Even if they terrified me somewhat.

The loose, hanging green threads of my dress told everyone I had picked more at my sleeves than my food. I looked up and down the table at those eating and fancied a glance to the front. King Elessar had wedded the elf Arwen on Mid-year's Day and the newlyweds sat before us all at the high table. Of course, they had been married in private and this was just a celebratory feast, but I still couldn't help but wish I was there. I was thankful, too – I was sick of love and romance and the whole lot, but these two made me regret I felt that way. Arwen was the most beautiful woman I had seen next to Varda and I would never change that statement. It wasn't so much as her physical beauty (which was a marvel in itself – she was considered breath-taking amongst elves!) but also her winning smile and hospitality that made her an excellent match for our benevolent king. No other could take her place beside him nor deserve the spot.

Sitting in his father's chair was the object of my thoughts, so I quickly passed over him. I let my eyes linger a bit longer on the empty chair at his side. She had departed for a time, for Edoras would soon lose her company forever. The Lady Eowyn was promised a chair next to Faramir in Ithilien – his princedom. And until then, all chairs beside Faramir would remain empty.

It was strange not being at the high table, but I really couldn't ask for more. As I thought this, the seat on my right was vacated. I hadn't known who was sitting there, but in a split second another body occupied the chair.

Turning rather awkwardly, feeling their eyes on me, I smiled as an introduction. The man who was beside me was very tall and gangly. He wore robes of a peculiar nature that seemed hardly fit for a wedding party – a dark, jaunty vest with a loose shirt, pants that reached the floor, and what looked to be suede shoes or moccasins. The excessive use of fur and the absence of headwear struck a chord with me. Did I know this person? He had dark hair and dark eyes to match, and his beard could only be described as fun. It was long and curled and it scratched his torso when he moved his mouth. Is this a Middle-Earth hipster?

"Lady 'Finwen,' I am so pleased to meet you. You've no idea what an honor it truly is!" His voice was deep and guttural, not used to speaking our tongue. But the way he said my name sounded like a tease of a well-kept secret. Like it was ironic my name was Finwen. All he had to do was wink obnoxiously to complete the picture of absurd secrecy.

I scrunched my nose in thought. "I'm sorry… Do I know you?" How did he know my name? And why was he… smiling at me like that?

"Of course not! Oh, but I know all about you." He nodded, making me cringe slightly. What the hell…? "You're the girl who fell from the sky… And look at you! Much more lovely than the Teachers foretold. They did you an ill justice, Eru's Child."

Head spinning, I couldn't help giving him an incredulous look. "Wh-what? You're…! You're one of those… those—"

"Prophets? Why yes, I am." He confirmed. "I've been telling your story across the land. The original Teachers who survived your camp say your body was missing from the wreckage and that you truly escaped – off to win the war! I never thought I would look upon your face… I travelled so many leagues when I heard rumor you were in the White City. Why, a good friend of mine was last seen in Dunland spreading the—"

"Are you daft? I'm no… no Eru's Child!" I stuttered, feeling overwhelmed.

"You're too modest, dear Messiah." The stranger shook his head, giving me another title. "And we've been warned that you would try to hide your true identity – whether it be amnesia, mistaken identity—"

"I am not the Messiah!"

"—blatant denial… It's alright, Daughter. I understand! But the Shadow has passed. You don't need to hide anymore! Passed because of you, no doubt! Eh? Eh?"

I stared at this man's excitable face with nothing short of disappointment. "Is it really… that hard to accept?" I looked to the high table and he followed my gaze. The four hobbits ate side by side and eat they certainly did. Except Frodo of course, but he wasn't exactly a typical hobbit anymore. I turned back to the Easterling. "I have done nothing worthy of glory. Of course, some have attempted to argue this, but what more can you ask of them? I can mend clothes and I can do my part, but these warriors are so scarred after righting the world – they've lost what was theirs and what they believed and what they thought they knew. There. That is where you should put your thanks and your hope and your faith. That is your Messiah."

I suppose I was harsh, but I had quite enough of such nonsense. I stood from my seat, bid him a good day (though I'm afraid he heard nothing of what I said – still rambling on about 'Daughter' and 'Child' and all that), and quickly left the table.

The conversation went unchecked by anyone, but one person. I felt eyes on me as I made my way down the aisle of chairs and spun around as I felt the presence. When I turned, what I saw baffled me.

A beautiful she-elf with hair of gold and white linens about her person was quietly sitting at the high table beside Elrond, who was Arwen's father. She was as lovely as a new morning. I stared at her for a moment in what felt like shock and awe until she met my gaze. Her eyes felt familiar as she looked at me and I knew she had somehow heard my talk with the Easterling across the hall. Though I was far from her, I could hear her voice… in my head.

Daughter of Eru? Her tone was questioning, curious.

I only had enough time to tilt my head in confusion before I was quite literally assaulted with visions. Almost as if she tapped some sort of faucet of memory in my brain, I held my head - nauseas by the sudden knowledge of names, places, dates, objects, animals, sciences, mathematics, clothes, electronics. These things completely flooded my mind.

Interesting…

As soon as it started, it had stopped and was gone. I was left with a sinking feeling that I was forgetting something important. I looked back up at the elf, but she was speaking with someone next to her, as if she hadn't just read my mind or anything. Completely innocent and unaware.

I stumbled from the hall in a stupor, trying to remember the things she read from me.

Celeborn turned to his wife at the high table. She was barely bothering with her food and as usual, she was perusing the hall with her careful eyes. They lingered a moment too long on one girl who looked helplessly confused. A second later, the girl broke the contact with a shake of her head and fled from the room.

"Who was the girl?" Celeborn asked casually.

Galadriel gave out a whisper of a response. "A human girl… named Sarah."

"What a strange name." He said. "What did you speak of?"

"Many things." She answered vaguely. The mortal girl now well out of sight, Galadriel let out a small sigh. "Very interesting… She confuses me."

"How so?" Celeborn asked. He did not hear this from his wife often.

"I cannot say." She said. "She does not yet realize how blessed she is… To be given the chance to live again."