Hello! Was in a serious writing mood tonight, so here it is! Thank you to all those who reviewed! Never knew reading reviews would be so nice hahaha.
Anyway, this chapter's not much, but there's a little Emma, a little Ella and Fili and Kili and Ori, so hopefully it's still okay!
I'm really still figuring out exactly how big a role Ella will have, so if there's any suggestions, please feel free to review, yeah!
It was well past midnight.
Emma lay curled up on her bed, the blanket pulled around her, absorbing the photos on the walls.
Before, her mother had always been nagging at her to take down her posters and pictures from the walls, telling her they were unsightly, that they would spoil her room.
Her mother hadn't said anything like that for a long, long time.
Emma choked and had to lower her head, burying her face in her blanket.
Every single photo or drawing on the walls were of Ella.
Ella, her Ella, laughing, making faces, smiling, sticking out her tongue, looking away, narrowing her eyes, glancing out over the distance, a silhouette on the beach, a whirling figure in a white dress, a face squashed up against the camera. So many photos, a dozen different emotions, all captured in the photos on the walls.
They'd spent the first few days in shock, Emma and her parents. Sobbing. Breaking down. Not eating. Not leaving the house.
And then came the news that they couldn't find the body, and that was when her mother had lost it completely. It had been the breaking point for her.
Her father had only swallowed, the glint of tears in his eyes as he'd nodded.
Emma had only turned away.
Jerelee and Tiffany and Addy had come over, and the twins Bella and Beatrix, and Delilah and Alison. Bella and Beatrix had stayed in Emma's room with her, the three of them hugging, not saying a word. Bella and Beatrix had grown up with them, through primary school, and learning how to ride a bike, and when they first discovered the stress of exams. They'd always been Ella's special friends, being the same age, but had always regarded Emma as a younger sister.
Delilah and Alison had only stood together, hands in each other's, staring blankly at a photo hanging on Ella's bedroom wall, a blown-up shot of the three of them, in dresses and high heels, smiling widely at the camera.
Jerelee and Tiffany and Addy had crumpled onto the floor at the top of the stairs right at the door of Ella's room, unable to look the photo of the four of them hanging over Ella's bed in a handpainted wooden frame, sweaty and laughing and their hair messed up from the wind, in front of a group of bikes.
Ella. Her Ella. Always tired, stressed out from school, but always with a smile on for her younger sister. Bickering, laughing, making fun of each other, shoving each other, insulting each other with huge grins on their faces.
Emma swallowed.
She lifted her head and glanced at the open sketchbook on the bed in front of her.
It had been a new book. Absolutely brand new and an absolutely beautiful one. A gift from Ella, a present for getting top in history. Completely untouched before that day at the jetty.
And now page after page was full.
Slowly, her hand shaking, she reached out and flipped through it.
Ella, alive and well, with a group of short men with bears and a funny human-like creature with incredibly large feet, and a tall towering wizard.
Trolls.
Ponies.
A group of dwarfs, with a fierce-looking dwarf right at the front.
Ella sitting by a stream.
Some sort of monstrous wolf-like creature, with a foul-looking humanoid beast on its back.
The dwarfs, sitting on ponies, riding through a forest.
Ella wrinkling up her nose at a smell.
Ella surrounded by a few dwarfs; one good looking one, with braids in his hair and moustache; one with a bow and arrow; one with a young face, a slingshot in his hands; another with a funny hat, and another with tattoos on his head and one with a bushy beard.
A dragon, a huge dragon, sleeping in mountains of gold.
The wizard, a tall pointed hat.
And Ella, crying.
A pair of elves, one male and one female, beautiful, enchanting.
Ella, holding a dagger.
The funny creature with the large feet, which was, Emma somehow knew, called a hobbit.
She shut her eyes tightly, flipped the book shut.
Dreams.
Night after night she saw them, saw Ella, saw her with them, saw her happy.
Saw her laugh, saw her smile. Saw her nearly get eaten from trolls, saw her sit on a pony in front of a dwarf, saw her face turn pink as it always did whenever she got flustered or embarrassed or agitated.
She didn't know how. She didn't know why.
She knew it couldn't be real. Ella was dead.
Ella was at the bottom of the ocean because of her.
Because of that stupid motorcyclist who had had the gall to survive after he'd knocked his sister out into the ocean.
To drown.
She'd wanted to scream, to claw the motorcyclist's eyes out.
But he'd been crying, crying so badly, that she'd fallen back, sinking onto her knees instead to sob.
Ella.
Dead because she'd been trying to save her. To save Emma.
Emma let out a small sob and twisted in the blankets.
"It's beautiful."
Bofur gave Ella an incredulous look as she breathed out the words, moving her head from one side to the other, drinking in the view.
"You must be tired out from all that running from the Orcs, lass," he said, wrinkling his nose, making Ella laugh as she looked around with an awestruck face.
She didn't see Fili turn his head back to her at the sound of her laugh.
Bilbo, it seemed, was the only one able to appreciate Rivendell as well, she realised as they stepped off the bridge and into Rivendell proper. He gazed around him with his eyes wide, his face as amazed as Ella's.
In contrast, the dwarfs were looking around with narrowed eyes, their hands on their weapons.
"Mithrandir."
Ella turned around sharply at the voice, as did the rest of the company. A figure was walking down the stairs towards them, a dark-haired figure with a silver circlet around his head and pointed ears.
Her eyes widened.
An elf.
"Ah, Lindir!"
Gandalf had stepped forward towards the elf, just as Thorin leaned towards Dwalin and muttered something. But Ella only had eyes for the elf, watching him as he finally descended the stairs and started speaking to Gandalf in a language she couldn't make out.
"It's Elvish, that is," Bofur said to her, in a low voice.
"I must speak with Lord Elrond," Gandalf was saying.
"My lord Elrond is not here."
Lindir's eyes swept over the company, lingering briefly on Bilbo, and again on Ella.
"Not here?" Gandalf paused, looking over the elf. "Where is he?"
A horn sounded.
The company turned to see horses on the bridge.
And then, quite suddenly, it sunk in that the horses were heading straight for them.
Thorin shouted something Ella couldn't understand, and then – "Close ranks!"
Fili didn't even hesitate.
He slid through the company, grabbed Ella's wrist and pulled her behind him, shutting her into the circle of dwarfs with Bilbo.
She didn't even have time to absorb what was happening until the horses were circling them, their hooves clattering on the ground.
She needed to work on her reflexes.
Horses had always made her feel small, but now, being slightly shorter than the dwarfs, panic, real panic, was rising up in her. These horses were huge. Giants. Massive.
The dwarfs were muttering, growling, their weapons in their arms.
"Gandalf!" one of the elves cried, dark-haired and smiling, stopping in front of the wizard.
"My lord Elrond." He stepped forward now, and in an instant they had broken into what Ella figured was the Elvish tongue.
"Keep close," Fili said to her, in a low voice, and Ella shut her eyes and breathed in deeply.
No. No more relying on Fili.
In the messy little circle, it wasn't very hard to slip over to where Bofur was.
Fili didn't notice, his eyes still on the horses and elves.
"Strange for Orcs to come so close to our borders," the elf, Lord Elrond, was saying. Ella strained her ears to listen. "Something, or someone, has drawn them near."
He held up an Orc sword before passing it to Lindir.
"Ah, that may have been us."
It was then that Thorin moved forward, as Lord Elrond's gaze swept over their company.
"Welcome, Thorin, son of Thrain." Elrond stepped forward to meet him.
"I do not believe we have met."
Thorin's voice was not as hostile as it could have been.
"You have your grandfather's bearing. I knew Thror when he ruled under the mountain."
Ella's head jerked upwards sharply. Ruled under the mountain?
"Indeed; he made no mention of you."
This time, the hostility in his voice was clear.
Elrond nodded, narrowed his eyes at Thorin, before letting out a string of words in the Elvish tongue.
"What is he saying?" Gloin's voice was fierce, hard, steadily growing in volume. "Does he offer us insult?"
The dwarfs were behind him in an instant, raising their voices and glaring at the elf with suspicion.
"No, Master Gloin," Gandalf said, his voice exasperated, "he's offering you food." His eyes flickered to Ella. "And a bath for our lady companion."
Next to her, Bofur tensed up and moved in front of her slightly.
The dwarfs, Ella thought, seemed to have a protective streak in them, judging from their behaviour towards her after only a day.
She looked at Lord Elrond, his eyes on her, and gave him a grateful smile.
He nodded.
"Ah, well," Gloin said, turning to face Elrond after a quick, hurried discussion, "in that case, lead on."
Fili was not happy seeing Ella trail after the elves, watching them with wide eyes and laughing as they spoke to her.
No. Not happy at all.
Growling slightly, he sheathed his blades and turned away, vaguely aware that Ori was looking at her as well, his eyes following her as she moved further away.
Ella, on the other hand, was feeling extremely grateful.
Her long dark hair, which was already a mess at the best of times, had grown wild and itchy and was feeling absolutely disgusting. She had a feeling she was grimy and dirty all over. She was pretty sure her breath stank.
And yet somehow, despite the two female elves she was following being absolutely beautiful and graceful and elegant, they didn't make her feel incompetent.
They led her to a huge bathroom, a bath filled to the brim with hot water and a towel and a robe hanging nearby. After indicating which bottles of liquid she could use for her body and for her hair on a shelf by the bath, they shut the door and let her be.
Ella undressed gratefully and sunk into the bath.
It was maybe half an hour later when she finally dried herself and peeped out of the bathroom. The two female elves from before were standing by a window, murmuring in their Elvish tongue, when she looked out.
"We've something for you to dress into," one of them told her in a gentle voice, holding out a folded white garment in her hands. "It's a youngster's dress, really, but we thought it might fit you."
Youngster's dress. Of course. Her size.
She'd forgotten that she came in fun-size now.
"Thank you."
She disappeared back into the bathroom and held out the dress – and her jaw abruptly dropped.
It was beautiful. A pure, snowy white, made out of a soft, delicate material, glistening in the light.
She'd always wondered what it would be like to wear a gown like this.
She'd never thought she would have the chance.
She held the dress, shut her eyes.
Thought of Emma.
Emma, who would have loved to paint the dress she now held in her hands. Who would have wanted to try it on for herself. Who would have asked her to spin around in it, tell her that she'd probably get it dirty, get it covered in mud, get it covered in water, get it covered in puke, a never-ending list, both of them contributing until they burst out laughing.
Deep breath in. Deep breath out.
She could hear Addy's voice, demanding that she wear the dress immediately, that she would look gorgeous in it. Tiffany, telling Addy that dresses weren't that important, and end up bickering with her. And Jerelee, rolling her eyes and telling Ella to ignore them.
Another group of friends; Delilah, insisting that the dress would be much better if it were pink, and Alison, saying that blue or black would have been a much better choice of colour.
Ella opened her eyes, blinked and kept the tears back as much as she possibly could.
"Where do you think Ella is?" Ori was asking, looking down at the table dejectedly. He picked up a leaf from one of the bowls on the table.
"She'll be fine." Dori glanced at his brother curiously, then turned his attention back to the leaf. "Try it. Just a mouthful."
Ori shook his head. "I don't like green food."
He glanced around again, as if hoping that Ella would suddenly appear.
"Where's the meat?" Dwalin demanded, gruffly, digging through a salad bowl.
Ori forced his attention back to the food and his growling stomach. He sat up, looked down the table. "Have they got any chips?"
He received no answer.
Suddenly, there was a crash as a bowl clattered onto the table. The dwarfs all turned their heads to look at Fili, his hands still near his face from where he had been holding up the bowl, examining its contents, now staring over their heads at the doorway behind them.
With some disgruntled mutters, they twisted back around to see what had grabbed Fili's attention.
Fili could only stare as Ella stepped out of the doorway uncertainly.
She wore a white gown. Fili had never been fond of Elvish fashions or their taste, but the dress – the dress was beautiful on her, shimmering, glittering. It was, he thought, a good choice, a wonderful choice; it contrasted with her dark skin, but not in a bad way – it seemed to make her glow, made her look radiant. Her hair was loose as it always was, falling in dark waves down her back to her waist, and she was looking at them through her glasses, blinking uncertainly, smiling shyly.
Her face was still the same - still uncertain, still nervous, still a type of pretty that wasn't really pretty, still exotic.
But after a bath, after having finally relaxed for a while, she seemed to glow.
"Well, she's cleaned up well," Fili heard someone mutter, but he couldn't make out who it was. All his attention was on Ella.
"Nice of you to join us, lass," Bofur called out, grinning at her, as she approached the tables. "Looking well, aren't you?"
"Amazing what a bath can do for you," she said. "Is there any space left?"
She kept her eyes fixed on Bofur, not wanting to look up at Fili, still looking at her, not saying a word.
"Sure there is," said Bofur cheerfully, gesturing at an empty chair next to him, at the edge of the table. "Come on and join us!"
Fili kept his eyes trained on her as she walked past the table, her eyes still fixed on Bofur, unwilling to look anywhere else.
When she finally sat down, breathing a sigh of relief at the fact that she was now no longer facing Fili, she froze as she looked down at the food.
Salad. Vegetables. There was little or no meat at all.
She shut her eyes, opened them again.
She was starving.
She shut her eyes.
Bella and Beatrix, trying to coax her into actually ordering some sort of vegetable dish in the school canteen, laughing when she came back with only rice and a massive drumstick on her plate. Delilah and Alison making fun of her, videoing her and providing a stupid commentary as she picked out all the vegetables out of her meal, a meal she'd been stupid enough to let them order for her. Her parents, dumping a large serving of salad on her plate with a warning glare that told her she was going to get into trouble if she didn't eat it. Addy and Tiffany proclaiming in loud voices across the school when she finally gave in and ordered a vegetable dish for lunch, causing her no end of embarrassment.
She squeezed her eyes shut, took a deep breath.
Opened her eyes.
Bofur was looking at her worriedly.
"You all right?"
"Yeah," she said, breathing out slowly. "I just – I just never really liked green food."
"Sounds like Ori over there." Bofur immediately broke into a grin. "You gonna starve yourself, lass?"
She stuck out her tongue at him, making him laugh. "I can still eat it!"
"If I may say, Ella," Kili said, leaning across the table as she filled her plate with the vegetables she knew she didn't have much trouble eating, "you are looking absolutely wonderful. Stunning, really. Absolutely breathtaking."
He grinned when he saw her face flush, nearly dropping the bowl she had been holding.
"In fact," he continued, "I think my brother's having a hard time focussing on his food. And, you know, I think I might be having that same problem soon."
He winked at her, watching her face heat up even more as she tried, rather unsuccessfully, to act as if she hadn't heard him.
Across the table, Dwalin fixed him with an expressionless glance.
Bofur elbowed the younger dwarf.
"Oh, leave her alone."