Disclaimer: I don't own any of the LOTR characters or settings (that's all Tolkien's) ... regrettably ... what's mine are the OC's … and the mistakes … yep, that's about it.

Chapter 7

What a mess… I let out a sigh and promptly regretted it as the barrage of questions began once again: "Are you well?" "Are you in pain?" "Do you need anything?" "Are you hungry?" What the fuck am I supposed to do with this mess? I wondered as Logon kept fussing over me. During our journey, I had found his attention easy to ignore. But ever since the darkness had vanished, ignoring it had become almost impossible, and my patience was wearing thin. Still, I had enough self-control to keep myself from cussing him out – at least out loud. I learned the hard way that insults didn't seem to translate quite right in this world.

The day following my encounter with Glorfindel had been rough. It was the main reason for Logon's current behaviour. It was partly my fault I admitted, as I recalled how my first meeting with Lord Elrond went. The morning started innocently enough. I woke up to a world that no longer drained of colour. I could hear birds chirping outside of the window, sunshine streamed into the room bathing it in a warm glow. A figure stood by the window, tall and radiant – The lord of the House of the Golden Flower.

"I thought we agreed that Glorfindel would suffice," the elf corrected me. I felt my cheeks warm in embarrassment. "I-I apologize, I didn't-"

"No harm done, little one." He interrupted, his voice gentle and reassuring.

"I am not little" I muttered, my attempt at defiance faltering under his sceptical gaze.

"Is that so?" he asked, amusement obvious in his voice.

"I am twenty-five." I declared with as much dignity as I could muster.

He didn't argue with me, nor did he seem impressed by my age. That's when I realized that there was no way an elf would consider twenty-five as an impressive age. To him, I was little more than a child.

My thoughts were interrupted by my grumbling stomach. I felt my face turn crimson once again,

"I see you are hungry; I'll see what can be arranged." Glorfindel said with a faint smile before leaving the room. I watched him leave. I was forgetting something – I was sure of it. What am I missing?

I was pleasantly surprised when I managed to sit up without feeling much discomfort. My ribs smarted a bit, but other than that, I felt much better. Looking around the room, I noticed the now empty chair beside the bed. The chair was big, too big at first glance, but then the memory of Estel sitting in it overlapped with the present. And I wasn't so sure about it anymore. It seemed to be the perfect size for him.

They are not giants. I tensed, as my memory reminded me that I no longer looked on my twenty-five. I felt the panic starting to set in, my breaths were getting faster and shallower, but I was more aware this time, more rested.

Breathe I reminded myself, fighting the rising tide of anxiety. Breathe, that's it. I could do it. I focused. Breathe in, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Breathe out, one, two, three, four. Repeat. You can do it. I clung to the rhythm, willing the panic to retreat. Slowly, it ebbed, leaving an uncomfortable, but manageable unease in its place.

Taking another couple of deep breaths, I glanced around the room, confirming that I was alone. I was happy to realize, that this time I didn't have an audience. I breathed out a sigh of relief. Nobody saw.

I wiped at my tear-streaked face with the sleeve of my gown and took another steadying breath.

I can do it; I repeated as I finally faced my new reality head on. No matter how I looked, I was an adult, and I could deal with this. I wasn't yet sure how, but I could do it. I reached into my hair, my fingers brushing against the tips of my ears once again confirming that they were no longer round.

"Alright," I whispered into the empty room. "You can do it"

If I was really in Middle earth as I now suspected, I was no longer human. I was one of them. I was an elf. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. It would explain why Glorfindel, nor the twins questioned my age. After all, from what I knew, elves did age differently from humans. I was still twenty-five, just elvish twenty-five and human twenty-five weren't the same.

Suddenly the overprotectiveness of everyone I met made even more sense. To them I was a child – or at least I looked like one.

"Oh fuck" I muttered, but the words that I heard myself saying were different, wrong. "Golug-glob" I flinched at the sound. The language was harsh, unnatural. I felt my stomach raising in protest. I tried again, but the same alien words escaped. "Golug-glob" Pain flared in my head and with it my frustration grew. I couldn't even cuss in peace.

I had survived childhood once and I was by no means ready or willing to do it all over again. I had a right to be upset. I was a "fucking child" again. Still, the words that left my lips were wrong "Golug-glob" No, no, no not again. I could feel myself getting more upset each time I said the words out loud. However, the more upset I was the harder it was to not repeat them. Why?

The door to the room burst open with a loud bang. My head snapped up and I whispered the cursed phrase one more time "Golug-glob".

A tall elf stood in the doorway, his eyes scanning the room as if searching for someone. I had seen him before at the cliffs, his presence had rattled me back then, for he had seemed to know too much for my comfort. However, back then his eyes had been kind, knowledgeable, but kind. There was no trace of that now. There was no kindness, just mixture of panic and fury flashing across his ethereal features.

He looked like a biblical angel that's about to smite a great beast and had that fury not been focussed on me I would have been in awe, instead I found myself shaking with fear. I shuddered, my eyes brimming with tears as I tried in vain to stop myself "Gol–" The elf moved with surprising speed, crossing the room in an instant. His hand covered my mouth, effectively silencing me. The touch was gentle, tender, a stark contrast to the elf's fiery eyes that seemed to promise vengeance.

The way his eyes were shaking with fury told me one thing, I had messed up. I messed up badly. I tried to pull away, tears streaming down my face. His hand didn't waver, but his eyes softened.

"Words of that tongue should not be spoken lightly, especially not here." The tension in the air lessened at his words. "Do we have an understanding?" Only after I nodded did he remove his hand. His eyes, although clouded by worry were full of kindness and understanding. The earlier fury and disgust gone from his expression as if they were never there. As the kindness came back to his face, I felt myself relax and my tears turned into full blown sobs. I felt terrible "Go-" I tried to apologize. "Gohe-Goheno nim"

As if waiting for my apology the elf pulled me into a hug with a simple "All is forgiven, little one." Even though I received the elf's forgiveness, it took me a while before my sobs died down. My emotions felt more volatile than usual. I was used to crying from time to time, and I would get upset or angry with people, but I was never this dramatic.

Still the elf didn't seem perturbed by my tears wetting his attire. He patiently waited for me to calm down all the while gently patting my back. When the storm of emotions finally subsided, I pulled away from his embrace. He didn't stop me, instead offering me a pristine handkerchief.

The sight of it almost made me laugh – elves and handkerchiefs didn't exactly go hand in hand in my mind. Still, I accepted it, dabbing at the tears streaking my face before blowing my nose in it. Once done, I glanced down at the now-soiled cloth in my hand and felt a flush of embarrassment creep up my neck. Hesitantly, I folded it several times to hide the evidence of its use and, as if nothing had happened, held it out to the elf.

He raised an eyebrow, his expression caught somewhere between exasperation and amusement, before accepting the handkerchief with a resigned sigh.

The sound of laughter drew my attention to the doorway. Looking up, I realized we were no longer alone in the room. Estel was here holding a tray filled with food, his eyes alight with mirth.

"I see you've finally had the pleasure of meeting the Lord of Imladris, Mistriel," Estel remarked, his voice rich with humour.

"L-Lord of Imladris?" I stammered, mortified by the realization. I had not only handed him a sullied handkerchief, I had also cried all over his robes and had cussed him out. To say that the first meeting could've gone better would be an understatement. Yet the elf didn't seem to hold it against me.

"Mae govannen, Mistriel. I eneth nin Elrond." the elf introduced himself, his tone kind yet formal.

"It's an honour to meet you Lord Elrond" I whispered, and it was the truth I was truly honoured. Elrond was one of the characters that I both respected and admired. Being it his part in the Last Alliance during the Second Age, or his skills in the healing arts. He seemed undefeatable. I could honestly say, I was bit starstruck at the moment. My awe must have been visible on my face for I could see Elrond stiffen, and questioningly glance in Estel's direction, who shook his head slightly.

Unnerved, I watched the exchange and with each passing second my worries were becoming more and more prevalent. What have I done? I could feel my body beginning to shake again. Did I mess up? What would happen now?

"Mistriel?" I almost jumped at the sound of Estel's voice. Yet weirdly, his voice also made the panic recede a bit and when he settled the tray with food on my lap "You must be starving, there will be plenty of time to talk after you have eaten." I felt more reassured then threatened. For some reason it was unfathomable for me that Estel would harm me. I wasn't sure why, but I trusted him with my life.

I nodded and started to nibble on some of the food Estel had brought. There was a wide variety. Fruits, some vegetables and even few pieces of what was probably bread, although it looked quite different from the breads that I was used to. I was used to that thought stop me in my tracks, for no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't remember what the breads that I was used to looked, just that it wasn't this.

Perplexed, I looked up only to see Elrond talking with both Estel and Glorfindel by the doorframe. Their expressions serious, all three seemed to be deep in thought. I had a nagging suspicion that I was the cause of it. Yet, I didn't quite know what to do about that, so, I just continued nibbling on my food trying to ignore them. Hopefully, they would grow bored of it quickly.

"Are you still hungry?" I thought the question a bit pointless, for at the moment I was trying to figure out how many pieces of food I could stack on top of each other before the tower would inevitably collapse. So far, I had managed four at most, but I blamed that on the fact that I had decided that each tower had to have a grape as its base. Needles to say, I had spent the past couple of minutes playing with my food rather than actually eating it.

Still, I shook my head and looked up meeting Estel's eyes and letting my last attempt collapse on the plate. I was surprised that the elves were no longer in the room. It was only Estel and I. I couldn't help feeling relieved at that. I dreaded the following conversation enough as it was, bigger audience would only make it worse.

As if on cue "Mistriel, we need to talk"

"I know" I whispered, and I did. Still, that fact made me uneasy.

As if Estel could tell "You have no reason to fear, little one" he assured me.

"Do you know where you are?"

That question was easy, and I was pretty confident in my reply "Imladris"

"What is your name?"

That seemed easy as well "Mistriel" I answered, but then I thought about it a bit more and added "I think" behind my answer. Because although that name felt right, I knew that it couldn't have been my name back in the place I came from. There was no way my parents would give me a name like that, it would have been too unusual. But what was my name back then? I couldn't answer that, not even for myself, I couldn't remember. Come to think the shop owner, what was her name? When I closed my eyes I could picture her, but just for a second before the image disappeared. With my parents, it was similar, I wasn't even sure what their names were anymore.

The "you think?" sounded both sceptical and worried, it reminded me of the first time we had this conversation.

"I wasn't called like that" was the best answer I could come up with, and although Estel didn't seem reassured by my answer, he let it go, or at least I thought he did.

"Alright, do you remember where you hail from?"

I automatically nodded, before the meaning of the question hit me in full force. He wanted a name and although I was at first debating whether to say anything, I decided that I should, he had a right to now I wasn't from here. I frowned and murmured "Not here"

Estel laughed at that, perplexed I looked up. "I am aware that you are not from Rivendell Mistriel" was Estel's response.

I felt humbled again, yet I wasn't sure how to answer. I mean I couldn't remember the name of the town I grew up in. Nor the name of the town I moved to once I had left home.

"What year is it?"

"Third age" I was pretty content with my response, yet Estel didn't seem to be. "What year were you born in?" The blank look on my face must have been enough to answer this question. For although Estel seemed more troubled with each question he asked, he didn't force me to answer. He always gave me a way out, offering different question. It was the same even this time

"No matter, what were you called?" Only, I didn't like this question. I searched Estel's eyes for any sign that this was a trick question, yet I didn't find any.

"I am not sure" I mumbled. I was getting more and more upset with this whole interview process. It pissed me of, I decided to tell him everything, and yet I didn't seem to know anything worth telling. This was so frustrating "Golug–glo–" once again I found my mouth covered by someone's hand before I could even finish cussing. This time it was Estel's, I could see in his eyes the same disgust I saw in Elrond's earlier. I swallowed thickly. I didn't seem to be doing particularly well at leaving good impressions.

"This language shouldn't be spoken carelessly" Both Estel's words and his intonation were eerily similar to Elrond's. His eyes were searching mine for something, whatever it was he must have found it, for slowly he lowered his hand.

I felt frustrated by this. After all, it wasn't as if I enjoyed the headache that was tied to cussing in this world.

I briefly wondered whether Estel could've thought that I was trying to cuss him out. I felt colour leave my face at that thought. For that definitely wasn't my intention, I was just desperately overwhelmed. Everything felt like it was a bit too much, and I was just looking for a way out. I tried to make him understand

"But you've asked what I was called and I… " have no fucking idea. I was proud of myself for having the presence of the mind to not say the other part out loud. It definitely wouldn't have helped my case; it seemed that Middle Earth and swearing didn't quite go together.

Yet the expression on Estel's face seemed to be getting worse the more I talked. What did I say now? For the man looked ready to keel over. "Mael ci?" I asked gently touching his arm, his expression worried me. It took Estel a few seconds to respond, "I am well, little one" Yet he still seemed out of it, so much so that I didn't even correct him.

Had I known, that swearing would cause this, I wouldn't have done it. Maybe I thought, maybe it was causing him even more pain than me. That would explain it. Afterall my head still smarted from the unfinished cuss word.

That's why they wouldn't let me cuss, it was hurting them. Once the realisation struck, I was certain that had to be it. Looking at Estel's stricken expression, his eyes indeed seemed to be filled with pain. I promised to myself that I wouldn't cuss again. At least not if anyone could hear me, I didn't fancy causing others pain.

"Forgive me" I mumbled, deeply ashamed of causing him pain, it wasn't my intention. And I took the "There is nothing to forgive, little one" and him drawing me into a hug as him accepting my apology. Was everyone in Middle earth this touchy? I wondered, after all this was a second hug I received in a span of less than an hour. I didn't necessarily dislike it; it was just surprising.

I felt safe, so safe that I slowly nodded of. I didn't know how long I'd slept, but when I woke, Estel was engaged in a quiet conversation with Logon.

"Did we wake you Mistriel?" Logon asked gently, I shook my head, I didn't think it was them. Soon Estel excused himself and I found myself under Logon's watchful care.

What a mess… I let out a sigh and promptly regretted it as the barrage of questions began once again "Are you well?", "Are you in pain?" "Do you need anything?" What the fuck am I supposed to do with this mess? I wondered as Logon kept fussing over me. Yet, I did have enough self-preservation to keep myself from cussing him out, I learned the hard way that insults didn't seem to translate quite right in this world.

Notes:

"Mael ci?" = are you well?

"Golug-glob" is my best guess at how "elf-filth" could look in black speech (btw I hope you appreciate the black, black speech - muhahaha)

Author's note: Alright the time has come - at least part of the next chapter will be from someone else's POV (after all we have to make the misunderstanding obvious, don't we?). I am still not quite sure whose POV it shall be, but probably one of the elves of Rivendell or Aragorn… we shall see.