Anya found herself installed in a guest room in Lord Elrond's home. Considering that it was a good distance away from his, and while she had yet to see anything that wasn't nice, the room was hardly palatial, she even suspected that while he might not trust her and almost certainly was having her watched, it was probable that he wasn't intending to demand sexual favors from her in exchange for the lodging. Then again, he was handsome, appeared to be in good health, and had power – someone like that would only be without sexual companionship if they chose to go without.
She was permitted to wander about Rivendell in her free time, and he hadn't spoken of any areas being forbidden, only mentioning that sometimes the spray from the waterfalls left the bridges a bit slippery, and she should be mindful of her footing. There was also the basic fact that in most cultures, it would be rude to wander into someone else's house, and Anya had no intention of wandering in to the homes of elves of still unknown magical ability but an impressive assortment of weapons that she'd caught glimpses of here and there. She was also being followed… not just one elf, and she hadn't been able to figure out if it was by the command of Lord Elrond or out of their own curiosity, but whenever she left the house, she picked up a mostly unseen follower. Having seen the elven women, she rather doubted that they just wanted to stare at her attractive, for a human, body.
They were all so pretty. It wasn't fair, and she recalled that being one of the things that was always mentioned in the stories her people told of elves – whispers of their inhuman beauty, of their grace, of the strength that belied their apparent frailty. Beautiful, strong, living either forever or for a very long time, and magical… It must be splendid to be an elf. Of course, she was human, or mostly human.
"My father finds you intriguing. Father never describes humans as intriguing, only various degrees of trouble or tedium," the voice came from an elven woman with long dark hair and an outfit that seemed intended for traipsing through the woods while still looking impossibly pretty. Her features held enough similarity to Lord Elrond to give Anya a very good idea just who her father might be.
Proving Xander and Buffy wrong, Anya exercised a shred of tact and didn't ask where this elven woman's mother was, or if her father was currently available. "I've been told that I'm unique."
Taking a few steps closer, the elven woman gave Anya a thoughtful look. "What is so unique about one human woman?"
Choking back the urge to insist that this 'one human woman' had spent a thousand years inflicting well-deserved pain, she gave a shrug and a half smile, "Maybe I amuse him. Maybe it's the fact that I know a little about magic. Maybe he's plotting out things to do to my fragile body…"
"My father does not harm his guests," the woman pulled herself up as tall as she could, the better to give Anya a condescending glare.
"Now who's jumping to interesting thoughts? I didn't say he was up to anything bad," Anya smirked at the woman. If she was Lord Elrond's daughter that would make her Arwen, who kept being compared to the evening star, and who maybe had feelings for the Ranger Strider. "I spent seven hours discussing herbs and medicinal plants with a group of elves yesterday. The day before was a three hour tour that didn't involve boats or islands but did involve slippery bridges, bushes with lovely flowers and wicked thorns, and the bakery of wonderful little pastries that are probably horribly fattening. I mentioned having some familiarity with weapons, he might want to test that. He might decide I need a more complete tour of Rivendell. Someone might decide to see if I can fall off one of the horses."
Anya didn't voice her thoughts that he could be planning to take advantage of her. She'd had more than a few smutty daydreams about Lord Elrond. One had featured the table where he'd offered lunch and a mild interrogation – the daydream had turned it into lunch with passionate sex on the table as desert. Or the one about him waking her up in the middle of the night by slipping between the blankets naked – a perfect match for how she slept. Or there was one where she was swimming beneath the waterfall, and he showed up, leading to them having sex beneath the waterfall… that might be pushing things a bit too far. Especially since she didn't know if he was married, in mourning, or if expressing such thoughts could lead to some horrible painful fate.
With a sigh, the elven woman murmured, "I suppose those things could lead to injuries to humans."
"Thus far, Lord Elrond has been a splendid host, and I have nothing to complain about besides the difficulty of catching a whole town's worth of gossip in the past few days, especially when many of the people aren't gossips, nobody's making a deliberate effort, and I still don't know the faces that go with most of the names," Anya sighed. "You probably know that I'm Anya."
Smothering a chuckle, the elven woman spoke, "And I am Arwen, daughter of Lord Elrond. Perhaps you could endure a brief tour, where I identify some of the people with names and what they do in Rivendell?"
Anya considered the offer. On the surface, it sounded like Arwen wanted to help her settle in, to learn who was who here in what might become her new home. Slightly deeper and it became the perfect way to not only watch where Anya was but what she was doing, as well as giving Arwen a chance to form her opinion of Anya based on direct observation. If Arwen was a malicious person, it would be the perfect chance to cause Anya later problems by giving her faulty information, even if she was subtle about it and just left out vital bits. If she was malicious and direct, she might lure Anya off somewhere private and kill her, leaving her body out for the bunnies… But Anya doubted that Arwen was planning to kill her. Mustering a smile, Anya replied "I think I could manage another tour."
The tour began, with some of the less formal bits of history of some of the places, like the story about how the baker had been forced to replace his oven when his grandson had chased a pair of puppies through the kitchen and managed to collapse the old one, or how the owner of the apple orchard had kept hiring guards to find out where the apples were going only to discover the guards eating them. Another story was of an elven woman named Meillannai who had a habit of adorning her clothing with needlework in shades of yellow and gold, or of Silluiwen's misadventures with beekeeping.
She pointed out Wensaillon of the silver harp, and his sister Lluthnawien, who Arwen called one of the best singers in Rivendell. The tour also gave Anya a face to match to the stories of Amrelleth the fisher, who had been most skilled at finding pearls before they had come to this place, and had the ability to swim almost as well as any fish. With a teasing smile, Arwen also identified the keeper of the horses and when might be a good time to talk to him about finding a gentle, calm horse to ride.
Anya also noticed how the people of Rivendell seemed to love Arwen. It wasn't a love expressed in gushing words or frequent gifts, but in fond smiles, in the way people seemed to watch out for her, with little warnings about slippery bridges or muddy paths. This helped reassure Anya about Arwen's intentions – the people of Rivendell seemed to be fairly nice, and nice people didn't love someone like that unless they also seemed nice.
She also learned that the Ranger Strider was better known by a completely different name inside of Rivendell, either called the Dúnadan or by a name that sounded like Estelle, which Anya had only heard before as a woman's name. Once again, she used the tact that nobody in Sunnydale believed she possessed and did not mention that she'd only heard Estelle used as a woman's name before. Considering Arwen's soft sighs whenever he was mentioned, by whichever name, Anya was prepared to believe that Arwen did indeed have feelings for him. He was fairly attractive, and had that rugged charm going for him, she could certainly see the appeal. Anya suspected that either Lord Elrond didn't see the appeal or he just flat out didn't approve. Regardless, Anya decided not to ask about why Elrond disapproved of his daughter with the Ranger just now.
Anya didn't plan to ask about the maybe relationship between Arwen and the Ranger at all. Really. It wasn't any of her business, and prying could get her into trouble.
But after one too many times of watching Arwen sigh at the mention of him and the way the elven woman's cheeks colored when she tried not to be caught staring at the man, Anya couldn't help herself. "I've been in Rivendell for four days and I can tell that you have feelings for the man. Why haven't you made a move on him? If he's as wonderful as you think he is, someone will eventually go after him, especially if he travels as much. Women in other places won't know or care that you have feelings for him, they'll see the yummy Ranger and want some."
"I… things are complicated," Arwen blushed.
"Your reasons why might be. The facts aren't. He looks tempting. Other women will think so as well and someone's going to act on that temptation eventually." Anya gave Arwen a look, "I might be human, but that doesn't make me a fool, or blind."
"My father would not approve of me developing feelings for someone who lacks the immortality of the elves," Arwen whispered.
Shaking her head, Anya tried not to growl, "The feelings are already there. Elves may or may not be immortal, and he's probably not, but that won't keep you from having those feelings. Which would you rather have – the rest of your immortal life wondering what might have been, or the rest of your life having memories of what was?"
"He is concerned that I might regret choosing someone of a mortal span," Arwen murmured. "His concern only makes me love him more."
"So you love him. Obviously your feelings are there regardless of his mortality," Anya pointed out, ignoring the cautious part of her that was insisting that the love-life or lack thereof for Arwen was none of her business. "In the long term, the lifespan difference could matter. But if you love him, and are sure that you love him, then why haven't you acted anyhow? There are ways to let a man know that you aren't worried about that."
"My father refuses to give his blessing until such time as the lands of Gondor and Arnor are united under the Line of Isildur," Arwen sighed.
"Gondor and Arnor are other nations?" Anya asked, trying to follow this explanation. Either there was some sort of deeper political game going on, or Lord Elrond had chosen a fancier version of 'when pigs fly' or 'when hell freezes over' to answer his daughter's would-be romance.
"Yes. They were once part of the nation ruled by the House of Númenor, the last of which was Isildur," Arwen offered. "The nations are of strained relation now, and they are unlikely to reunite peacefully."
"So is there an heir to the line of Isildur? If so, just find some magic users and political advisors, figure out a way to unite the leadership of Gondor and Arnor… It might take some time, a bit of magic and a lot of politics, but it should be possible," Anya shrugged.
"There is one surviving heir to Isildur's line. And those nations are unlikely to accept a Ranger to rule over them, no matter how charming I find him," Arwen sighed.
Anya sighed. Love was just so… Sweet and inspiring and troublesome and sticky and the reason why she'd spent a thousand busy years granting vengeance. "Did your father say that he had to accomplish it all on his own?"
Arwen blinked at her, and for a moment her expression revealed only shock "… no."
"So figure out a way and help him accomplish it, or give up and try to develop feelings for someone that your father will approve of you marrying." Anya figured that if something like that hadn't already occurred to Arwen, subtle was right out and she'd best put it bluntly. Anya was good at blunt.
"Easier said than done," Arwen murmured, her expression becoming thoughtful. The sort of thoughtful that suggested she might actually be trying to plan out how Gondor and Arnor could be united under Strider's rule.
"Often the things that are worth having aren't easy to have," Anya countered. "Is he worth the work?"
Arwen's gaze took on the distracted little smile of someone lost in pleasant daydreams. Anya figured that answered the question without any need for words. Arwen seemed convinced that Strider was worth it. Anya found herself hoping that things worked out for them.
End part 5.