A/N Man, that chapter with the troll hoard really did have me held up, didn't it? Or maybe I'm just realllly comfortable writing in Rivendell. Who knows. How many paths do you think we'll have scenes on this time around :P
Also, I make playlists for literally everything I write for. Sometimes the songs on it make sense and sometimes they don't. Anyway, there's one for each story (the one for this one is totally not organized yet btw but it's there) and it's public on Spotify if anyone wants it. The one for And Never Back Again is properly organized based on the timeline. Not so much a shameless plug but more of a hey this exists for my writing usage but if you want it too, it's there. They're both under the story titles and I'm Commander Shepard, do with that what you will, if anything.
I'm rambling here because I feel awkward plugging my Spotify playlists for my fanfics.
Anyway.
Things are getting meaty around here and I'm SO ready for it. It's gonna be fun. Fun in an OMG this is super sad and angsty but also dwarves are fun so we get to have fun sometimes too sort of way.
I think I'm gonna go reward myself with the other half of my deli sandwich and a little Stardew Valley. #elliot5ever
From Elrond's study she was met by the same elven woman from her last arrival and taken to the same set of quarters she'd had before. It felt familiar like everything else, but in a much more comforting way. In eighty years she'd lay in that same bed and let its soft linens wrap around her while she burrowed into the pillows, trying to find comfort from the fear of her future. If she'd known how much she would find by the end of the War, the love and security of building her life with Aragorn, would it have eased the worry, she wondered?
Josephine walked out onto the balcony and looked over Rivendell as the sun started sinking towards the late afternoon. The day wasn't over yet, and the basin of steaming water and dress laid over the foot of the bed reminded her she'd need to wait until later to reminisce.
She washed quickly and slipped into the pale golden dress she'd been left with, opting to go to dinner with wet hair since her other option was just combing the dust out of it but having it still smell faintly like troll.
There was no one waiting to show her to dinner, Elrond seeming to take her confession of having been to Rivendell before to heart had not sent a guide. He and Gandalf and the dwarves were already there when she arrived at the pavilion. The dwarves were arranged at two long low tables but a smaller round table that sat four was off to the right with Elrond, Gandalf, Thorin, and an empty chair presumably for her.
As she passed the dwarves' tables she heard Kili mumble to Fili with a jab of his elbow. "Hey Fili, look at that! Didn't know Lady Josephine could look so…"
"Aye." Balin interrupted from the end of the other table, leaning over to get Kili's attention. "She's a lady, and you'd best show her the respect she deserves."
Josephine ignored their banter, knowing she still had a lot of reputation to build with Elrond and this dinner would be a part of it. She sat down as her chair was pulled out for her and reached right away for her silverware to dig into the food being laid on her plate. She was ravenous.
"Ah!" Gandalf said, having gotten into a bit of his food already and wiped his mouth with a napkin. "I was hoping you might recognize some of the weapons we arrived with." He motioned to his sword leaning against the table next to him, and Thorin's which was the same at his side.
Elrond nodded and reached first for Thorin's drawing it slightly from its sheath. His mouth opened to name it but Josephine jumped in, deciding a few more notches in the proverbial bedpost of foreknowledge wouldn't hurt.
"That's Orcrist, the Goblin Cleaver. Forged by the High Elves of the West." She said, reaching for her goblet.
All three heads turned to face her and Elrond's eyebrow rose. Slowly he handed Orcrist back to Thorin and took up Gandalf's sword, pulling it slightly from the sheath the same as Orcrist but not saying anything. He just looked up at her expectantly.
"Glamdring, the Foe Hammer. It was the King of Gondolin's. They were for the Goblin Wars of the First Age, right?"
"It would seem you do not need my services after all, Gandalf." Elrond looked a bit amused and handed Gandalf back the blade. "How did you come by these?"
"We found them in a troll hoard on the Great East Road, shorty before we were ambushed by orcs."
"And what were you doing on the Great East Road?" Elrond said very pointedly to Gandalf.
Thorin squirmed and tossed his napkin onto the table. "Excuse me."
Josephine dug into a second helping of salad as he left and sighed to herself.
"Thirteen dwarves, a halfling, and a seer. Strange traveling companions, Gandalf."
"They're noble, decent folk. And they're surprisingly cultured. They've got a deep love of the arts."
"A deep love of something." Josephine muttered. "Pretty sure it's ale."
And then Bofur jumped up, leapt onto the same pedestal the Ring would sit on one day, and began to sing. "Thereeeeee's an inn, there's an inn, there's a merry old inn…"
Food went flying, cheers erupted, and the dwarves began to sing along. Josephine pressed her lips together and tried to keep a straight face as Lindir was almost smacked right in the face with a handful of sweet porridge and bits of it bounced off the statue behind him and into his hair.
Lettuce rained down like confetti and the song went on until several of the elves who had been playing their instruments, left the pavilion to escape the rain of dinner.
The dwarves were the first to arrive at dinner, and looked like they'd be the last to leave as Josephine, Gandalf, and Elrond finished eating. It was still early evening but everyone seemed too tired to sit around talking for very long and nobody retired to the Hall of Fire that night.
She slipped off alone to go back to her room and hide for awhile, she'd earned that much since the Shire. After she'd changed into a fresh pair of breeches and a soft blue shirt, an elf came by and offered to bring her a tray of tea which she gladly accepted and when there was a knock on her door a while later she assumed that was who it was. But when she opened it, it was Lord Elrond.
"Had a chance to think about things and now you have more questions?" She asked, tired but trying to sound open to answering them.
"I feel you have spent long enough this day, explaining yourself to others. However it was overheard from one of your companions that you have been favoring your side since your run in with the trolls."
It drew her attention to the smooth wooden box under his arm and she nodded. "I thought they hadn't noticed. Who snitched?"
"I believe Dwalin was bringing it to Thorin's attention."
"Should've known, he's always got at least one eye on me." Stepping aside she let him in and closed the door. It would've been much easier to just let things heal up on their own, she'd have long enough in Rivendell to let them. But if Aragorn had been there…really been there, he wouldn't have let her. In his absence he'd be glad to know Elrond was seeing to things.
He set the box on the table and opened it, revealing several small jars and rolls of white cloth. "Gandalf wishes to say very little of your journey up till now, and even less of where you're headed, but perhaps you will tell me at least how you became injured?"
She sat down on the bench at the end of her bed. "He's toeing the line between his agenda, staying on Thorin's good side, and getting what we need from you."
"And just what is it that Thorin's Company would need from me?" He said with a raised eyebrow, sitting down next to her.
"I'll let Gandalf decide when he wants to bring that up, sometimes it's more important I just stay out of the way while things happen."
Elrond nodded understandingly and let down his light attempt at getting any more information. To show his surrender he smiled. "So, these trolls you encountered?"
"Picked me up and gave me a good squeeze, then tied me up in a bag and tossed me into a pile of dwarves. Ribs smart a bit but they're definitely not broken."
He seemed amused by her retelling and motioned to her shirt. "May I?"
Josephine drew the hem up and balled the fabric up against her sternum so he could see the lower part of her ribcage which was slightly mottled.
"Bruised, but not badly." He confirmed. "And not broken. You were quite lucky." He turned around and took a jar from the box, spreading a cold salve over the bruises.
Lucky that Thorin didn't hesitate when Bert started tightening his grip. Another couple seconds and she definitely would've had broken ribs back in the glade. "Yeah, I seem to get that sentiment a lot after I get hurt."
Elrond continued in silence, seeming to take his original comment on her having answered enough questions to heart. He finished with the salve and wrapped one of the rolls of cloth around her ribs, then set the jar and a second roll on the table like he meant to leave them for her. A thought seemed to be caught behind his teeth and as he closed the lid he turned back to her.
"The boy." He said gingerly. "I will not ask of his fate, per say. But I do wish, perhaps selfishly, to ask one thing. In your time, will you know him?"
Josephine looked up at him, seeing the expression of a father more than a lord. Foster father, maybe, but someone who cared none the less. Someone who worried about the future of a child whose bloodline alone put him in great danger. A danger that meant he might not make it to the years she'd talked about.
And for her, the pain was still too fresh to hide in her eyes as they burned, so she had to answer. "I know him."
She didn't say more, and he didn't seem to need more from her than that. He looked relieved, and smiled for a moment to himself.
"You have granted me a gift, Lady Josephine." He tucked the box under his arm and laid his free hand softly on her shoulder. "And I hope your time here will grant you comfort from your sorrows."
The door shut softly behind him and she stepped back out onto the balcony, tilting her head back to look up at the stars.
Aragorn couldn't sleep, once again. Every time he closed his eyes he dreamed of her, of her face and her laugh, or if the night was particularly unkind, of her surrounded in darkness. He tracked each day to the path Gimli had laid out for him. His mind brought him back to that day he'd seen her on her balcony in Rivendell and how calm she had looked, gazing over the valley.
Wandering out to the balcony of their bedchamber he laid his hands on the railing and looked up into the black night sky with a sigh.
"Long ago you looked upon these same stars and perhaps you thought of me as I do you." He said quietly, wanting to believe they would pass his message back to her through the years that stood between them. "I hope they watched over you, and that their beauty brought you peace in such dark times."
He couldn't bear to go back inside, not yet, not to their bed that sat empty without her in it. So he laid back on their settee that they so often shared and let the sky draw his eyes into the vastness of it.
Another day could not pass in his halls where he simply sat and waited. If Gandalf was right, she would be gone for months still. Aragorn needed to move, to see for himself the place she'd last stood. Tomorrow, he would depart for Ithilien.