Hermione put down her quill and shook out her hand with relief. She had been working on the translation for weeks and she had finally found the last rune in the script that she was working on.
Eyebrows furrowed in concentration, she read and then reread what she had translated. It didn't make any sense. The language was ancient, but it was relatively similar to gobbledygook, so it had only taken her a couple of weeks to make a full translation. But it still didn't make any sense. She read it out loud in english;
"Only death can move her, and yet not true death.
The Elven kingdom not of this earth love her.
And a king shall heal her soul."
It sounded like a prophecy but that was ridiculous, her dislike of divination was well known in the academic community. No one, not even for a joke, would leave her prophecy to translate.
She took up her wand and carefully traced each rune in the air leaving glowing lines of runes floating in front of her. She tried one more time speaking out loud, but this time her tongue stumbling over the unfamiliar pronunciation of the language itself.
"Ero gwanath pul'rumá he dan ú thrand gwanath.
I Eledhrím aranarth ú nan sen amar thel'mela he.
Ar'i aran na'nesta he fae."
Hermione immediately knew she had made a mistake. Her magic felt as though it was exploding from her skin. She gripped her wand tightly as she doubled over, feeling herself being engulfed in flames. The pain was quickly overwhelming her senses as it raced through her body from her toes up to the crown of her head. She closed her eyes trying and failing not to panic. Her last thought was that she was probably going to miss lunch with Harry tomorrow.
"Come, gwanûr (brother). I'll race you to the gates." Elrohír called over his shoulder, his twin pulled up alongside him and snorted and drawled out.
"Gwanûr you never win. But if you require another loss, I am more than happy to oblige." It was Elrohír's turn to snort, while his brother was a marginally better horseman than he was he could still beat him on occasion.
Before he could answer his brother's challenge a boom of thunder cracked through the air and the sharp smell of ozone tickled his nose. At Elladan's cry of alarm, he wheeled his horse around swiftly. A fork of lightning had hit the ground not fifteen paces from his brother and the horse had thrown Elladan in panic.
Elladan was on his feet and soothing the horse before Elrohír could dismount. He swung his leg over and gracefully dropped from the saddle, moving over to where his brother stood murmuring soothing words to the panic beast.
"There was no sign of a storm a few minutes ago, and there is no sign now." He muttered to Elladan looking up at the clear sky, his brother shrugged elegantly.
"Stranger things have happened gwanûr." He hummed in acknowledgement, eyes travelling to where the lightning had hit.
He choked and nudged Elladan sharply. Elladan followed his light of sight and stilled. A crumpled and smoking form lay on the ground directly where the lightning had struck. He dropped the reins of his horse and jogged over to what he had spotted.
A girl lay sprawled out on the burnt earth, her clothes smoking and falling apart in places. Elrohír knelt down beside her, unclasping his cloak from around his neck he gently wrapped the girl in it noting that despite her burnt clothing her skin seemed to be unharmed. He looked to his brother,
"She is alive gwanûr." Elladan's eyebrows rose.
"I will ride ahead to inform Adar (Father). You take her straight to the infirmary." He instructed, already striding back to his horse. Elrohír didn't answer but scooped the girl into his arms. He jolted in shock, the power he could feel from the small form in his arms stunned him.
"Ride fast gwanûr, Adar will want to see her as soon as he can." Elladan gave him a sharp nod and wheeling his horse around he cantered off in the direction of Rivendell's gates.
Elrohír looked down at the girl in his arms. She was pretty, not in the ethereal way an elleth (female elf) was but more so than a mortal woman. Wild chestnut curls created a halo around her pale face, long dark lashes framed closed eyes and a small dusting of freckles decorated her nose and cheekbones.
He snapped out of his thoughts and made his way back to his horse. Moving her weight to one arm he manoeuvred himself carefully back into the saddle. Wrapping her tighter in his cloak he set her against him with one arm supporting her so that her head rested on his shoulder.
He directed the horse the same way his brother had just departed and set off swiftly taking care not to jolt her too much.
"Adar!" Elladan came charging into Elrond's study. He looked up to see his son more flustered than he had seen in years.
Setting down his quill, he stood from behind his desk. "Elladan? What is it?" He questioned sharply.
"A girl! We found a girl. Elrohír is bringing her now." Elladan blurted out. Elrond raised an eyebrow and moved around his desk to stand in front of his son.
"A girl?" He questioned again, his mind running through all the possibilities that would cause his normally steadfast son to be so flustered and off-balance. He put a hand on the younger ellon's (male elf) shoulder. "Calm yourself my son, and explain why this has disturbed you so."
Elladan acquiesced, "Of course Adar. But we must talk on the way to the infirmary."
"The infirmary? The girl is injured?" Elrond swiftly headed towards the door that had been flung open by Elladan in his haste.
"She was unconscious when we found her, it almost looks as if she was caught in a fire." Elladan was hot on his heels and they took the familiar path to the infirmary.
"Almost?"
Elladan shrugged elegantly. "Yes Adar, her clothes have burnt but she has not. We were unsure what to make of it."
Elrond glanced at his son sharply, there was more to this than Elladan was letting on. They came up to the large double doors that led into the infirmary which had been left ajar as if someone had rushed in hurriedly, which he assumed Elrohír had.
The sight that greeted them was unusual. Elrohír was placing a small cloak-wrapped body on one of the beds furthest from the doors. His son then proceeded to fuss over the girl, straightening the cloak that covered her and smoothing her hair.
All he could see of the girl that had his sons in a mild panic was a small pale face and a wild mane of chestnut curls. Not an elleth then, no elf could grow curls like that.
He and Elladan continued to make their way swiftly through the light airy infirmary, finally stopping at the end of the now occupied bed. She was small, he expected that standing up he and his sons would tower over her.
On closer inspection, Elrond realised that she was a young woman, not a girl. He turned to Elrohír who looked similarly off-balance, maybe a little less so, as his brother.
"Why is she wrapped in your cloak?" He asked, his eyes still roving over the figure in front of them.
"Her clothes were burnt and falling off her when we found her. It was just to keep her warm and preserve her modesty." Elrohír answered, his eyes also focused on the young woman.
Elrond moved closer to the young woman in the bed, standing near where her head rested on the pillows. "Elladan go and fetch Arwen, I will require her help." He ordered his son who was shifting from foot to foot and obviously needed a task to keep him occupied.
Without answering his father, Elladan turned on his heel and strode out of the infirmary in search of his sister.
Elrond pulled back the cloak to expose her neck. There was a thin scar running across it, as if someone had held a blade there in an attempt to cut her throat. He tilted her head back gently to take a closer look and pulled his hand back in shock.
As soon as he had touched her skin he could feel the power rolling beneath it. He had only ever felt that kind of power when touching or healing an Istari, which he had done a few times in his lifetime.
He looked up at Elrohír, and his son shrugged elegantly. "I felt it too. That is why we brought her here." His son murmured quietly.
"She is an Istari, although I've never known of a female one before." Elrond stated to his son. Elrohír inhaled sharply, understanding the gravity of what he had just said. It took a lot to incapacitate an Istari, and if she was lying here unconscious something must have happened.
He continued to pull back the cloak noting that Elladan had spoken true. Her shirt, soft and finely made, was burnt in places but the skin underneath was unmarked. He caught sight of another scar, this one thick and white with purple patches in it like it had not quite healed correctly. It started just below her left shoulder, stretching across her collarbone and disappearing below what was left of her shirt.
Both ellons looked up at the sound of hurried footsteps entering the large room. Arwen strode briskly towards them with Elladan close behind her.
"Adar? You called for me." He gave her a soft smile, out of all his children Arwen was the one to show talent with the healing arts
"Yes, ind nín (my heart). Fetch a clean gown and call for some hot water. Our Istari guest is in need of proper clothing"
Arwen's steps faltered slightly as she glanced at the unconscious woman. "Istar-" she shook herself lightly and straightened up. "Of course Adar." She stepped to a side door set in the closest wall and called through it, ordering for water to be brought to them. She then briskly moved away to fetch the clothing he had asked for.
Elrond turned to his sons, both ellons had their eyes trained on the unconscious woman in front of them. "You may go." He murmured quietly to them. Elladan opened his mouth to refuse, but his brother caught his arm and he closed it with a snap.
"Of course Adar. Call upon us if you need any assistance." Elrohír said, maintaining his grip on his brother's arm as he pulled him away from the bed. They left the infirmary talking with their heads close together.
With his sons gone he pulled the cloak back completely and took in her small form. Her clothes were like none he had seen before, a soft long-sleeved linen shirt, tucked into trousers made of a more sturdy looking blue fabric with gold coloured fastenings. She had no shoes but was wearing what looked to be small grey stockings that stopped just above the ankle, with what seemed like depictions of orange colored cats embroidered on them.
Her hand caught his eye and he lifted it closer to him. She was gripping a long intricately carved stick. Elrond gently pried it from her fingers and put her hand back on the bed.
He examined the stick carefully. "Gwîn eryn (Vine wood)." He muttered to himself.
The wand, for Elrond realised that was what it was, had a smooth tapered end and a handle that had small leaf and vine designs not engraved on it, but placed on top of it. The designs appeared to be of the same wood as the rest of the wand.
He was so absorbed in his examination of the wand that he did not notice Arwen re-entering the infirmary. She stood by his elbow and peered over his shoulder. "Adar what is that?" She asked, she was carrying a bowl of water and a small bundle of cloth which he assumed to be a healing gown.
"A wand, ind nín." He answered, Arwen's eyebrows furrowed.
"Like Gandalf's staff?" He smiled softly.
"Yes ind nín. Just like that." Arwen hummed her acknowledgment and busied herself pulling privacy screens around the bed. Elrond set the wand down on a side table near the bed and stepped outside of the privacy screens to allow Arwen to change the young woman.
He was deep in thought as stared out of the window that looked over the gardens.
Elrond was pulled out of his musing by his daughter's exclamation of shock and the sound of someone sitting down heavily. He swiftly pulled back the screen to see Arwen sitting on the bed cradling one of the young woman's arms in her lap.
"Adar. It is awful." She muttered leaning over the arm obscuring it from view. "I do not even know what it means, and I am sure that it is awful."
He put a hand on her shoulder. "Let me see ind nín." Peering at what had disturbed his daughter he found himself quite disturbed as well.
The scar was dark on her pale arm, it looked freshly healed. A word with jagged letters that looked like it had been cut forcefully into the skin.
Mudblood, he had never come across such a word but he agreed with his daughter in her assessment of it.
"Who would do such a thing? She looks like she is not even 10 years out of childhood." Arwen asked quietly. Elrond wasn't sure if she was talking to herself or to him, but he answered anyway.
"There are many things in this world that we cannot begin to understand ind nín. Even when we have been granted more time than most." He removed the arm from his daughter's lap, and put a hand under her elbow helping her to her feet. Giving her a gentle push away from the bed.
"Go, ind nín. I can finish here myself." Arwen didn't say anything but nodding her agreement she slowly made her way to the exit.
Elrond turned back to the unconscious woman and straightened a part of her gown that had been crumpled by Arwen sitting beside her.
Moving on from the scar that had disturbed his daughter, he noticed something on her other arm. It was a leather strap that ran from below her elbow almost to her wrist. Badly damaged it came away in his hands quite easily. A storage place for her wand he assumed inspecting it and laying it down next to the wand.
"Oh cugu tithen (little dove), what has happened." He sighed and made himself busy by cleansing her arms, face, and feet with a warm cloth from the bowl of water Arwen had brought.
Elrond set up a watch so that when the young woman awoke she would not be alone. He and his children all took turns sitting by her bed.
It was 2 days later when she woke. Elrond shut his book with a snap when he heard the change in her breathing, the sound of someone rousing from a deep sleep. He looked see large deep brown eyes scanning the room finally coming to rest upon him.