Aiya - hello (Quenya)

Goheno nin forgive me (sindarin)

Le hannon I thank thee (sindarin)

Chapter 12 - “All Hell Breaks Loose”

Bloody hell!

She knew it would get a reaction but it was actually pretty scary seeing six very powerful individuals go off on one all at the same time. She wondered if provoking five warriors (and she suspected Erestor could probably hold his own in a fight as well if push came to shove so it was near enough six warriors to all intents and purposes), one of them a Maia, was SUCH a good idea. Looking at the expressions on their faces, quite possibly not.

Elrond was exploding.

It had never occurred to her that elves could get red in the face, but he was puce, his ears near glowing. He was ranting at Halbarad and Gandalf, but mainly Halbarad. Halbarad was giving as good back, though. Both were gesticulating in her direction. No doubt she was a threat and a danger and Halbarad was being blamed for bringing her here.

“But we could not have known she had such knowledge, Elrond!” Aragorn weighed in now. “Nor did either you or Gandalf sense anything from her that would indicate she was a danger. Now that we know what she knows we can decide what to do, but we must be reasonable: it is hardly Halbarad’s fault! He HAD to bring her with him. He could not have known!”

“Then YOU explain how else she could know such things and not be a threat!” Erestor rounded on him. “Her knowledge is disturbingly accurate and indeed she knows things she CAN NOT know!” Glorfindel was backing him up.

Gandalf was on the point of really losing his temper as Elrond told him, for the fourth time and at the top of his voice, that it was entirely his fault their questioning of her was delayed and it should have been done before the Council was held.

Penny was curled up in her chair, her breath quickening, realising this was all entirely her doing. She was most upset by the amount of flak that Halbarad was getting in all of this. Poor man. He didn’t deserve the way she had treated him let alone getting the blame for the situation she was in.

She was struggling to keep in the tears as the voices got louder and louder. For a moment she was entirely forgotten. Elrond was snarling at Halbarad again who was jabbing his finger back towards him and then towards Penny.

“WILL YOU ALL JUST SHUT UP!”

Stunned silence.

She had not realised quite how loud that was going to come out. She felt a moment of pure, unadulterated fear. She’d just screamed at six of the most important and powerful people in all Middle Earth and they were more than capable, any one of them, of snuffing her out in an instant.

Elrond’s head snapped round to her, his anger clear upon his face.

She was standing, coming swiftly towards him, her cheeks wet.

“Goheno nin, hir nin. Goheno nin, Elrond,” she said earnestly, desperately. She knew that what she was now doing and about to do was probably rude, presumptuous and incredibly stupid, but she was too distressed to care at this point.

She came straight up to him, standing between him and Halbarad. “Do NOT blame Halbarad!” She gestured to him as he stood behind her. “He treated me well and with patience when I was behaving like a complete madwoman. This is not his fault. Believe me, I did not say any of this to anger you. I said to to show you I cannot know what I have just told you. How can I know it?”

She glanced at Gandalf, “Please tell me you understand what I am saying. There is no WAY I could know it. I read it. I read it in a book. This entire story. All of you in a book. THAT is how I know.” She was gesturing to them all now, her tears falling fast while she desperately tried to make them understand. “I know about the Ring! I know about the Council! I know what was said and what was decided!”

She turned away from them now, walking back to her chair, almost talking to herself as she sobbed. “I don’t know how I got here! I don’t know why I am here! I don’t WANT to be here!” She could feel her knees buckling as the full weight of the reality hit her and she sank to the floor in front of her. “I don’t belong here. I.. I..” She sobbed, “I just want to go home!”

An uneasy and unspoken truce was reached by the questioners who, one by one, returned to their seats as they, quiet, confused and deeply suspicious, watched her weep on the floor.

“She does not want us to blame each other,” Gandalf said quietly. “It is no-one’s fault that she is here. She is lost. She was saying that she told us all that she did just now not to disturb us, even though she knew that that would be its effect, but rather to show, to try and prove, that what she was telling us about this book is true: for how else could she know such things? She...” He hesitated. “She just wants to go home. That feeling is very strong in her right now. Overwhelmingly so. That is why she weeps. Our anger distressed her greatly also.”

Aragorn, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together in front of his mouth, exchanged a glance with Halbarad.

“Yes, but where IS home?” he said softly.

“A good question, my friend,” murmured Gandalf.

Elrond, breathing hard, was struggling to control his fury still and said nothing. It was rare he lost his temper and he knew, as much for the others as himself, it was due to their frustration at not understanding her, the communication barrier, and the fact that she threw up more questions than she answered. He realised, however, that it was probably just as frustrating for her and very distressing too. That was obvious.

“Where is home?” Gandalf asked her.

Again he did so while projecting the question into her head. She heard him. She looked at him and the utter despair in her face made them gasp.

“Here. Arda.”

Gandalf shook his head. That made no sense at all. He asked her again.

And got the same answer.

The others realised what she was saying.

“What is its name, the country where you live?”

She smiled sadly, “England.”

Erestor got up and started scanning Elrond’s bookshelves for a book of maps. She followed his movement with her gaze, realising what he was doing. She laughed ruefully. She looked at Elrond’s raised eyebrow, his jaw still firm and hard.

“He won’t find it. It won’t be there,” she said.

Erestor heard Gandalf’s explanation of what she said but he continued searching regardless. She was right, though: he did not find it.

“How did you get here? Get to where Halbarad found you?”

She shrugged. She explained and mimed that she slept and woke up to find herself there.

Gasps of astonishment from them all then as Gandalf explained her answer.

Halbarad whispered, “That was why she was embarrassed that I had shown you her clothes. They were her sleeping garments.”

“And it explains why she was barefoot,” added Gandalf.

“But who would do such a thing to her?! And why?!” Aragorn was suddenly angry, as were they all as the thought hit them, though he was the first to voice it.

“They are worrying for you,” Gandalf said to Penny, smiling kindly at her. “Who did this to you?”

Penny also smiled a little to know they were angry on her behalf, more touched than she could say though both Elrond and Gandalf felt it from her and told the others, but in reply she shrugged and shook her head and burst into tears once more. It was clear she did not know.

Halbarad, watching all of this, though they were no nearer to answers, was finding much of her previous behaviour towards him was now explained. He was pale with fury at the idea that someone had done that to her: dumped her miles from home, in the wet without suitable clothing, and with wolves, Nazgûl and Eru knew what else abroad. If he ever found them he would tear them to pieces. Looking at the expressions of those round him he knew he was not alone in thinking this either.

“What is it about her that is familiar?” Gandalf was regarding her closely as he murmured to himself. “She has an age to her, and yet she is no age at all.”

Elrond looked at him. Gandalf knew Elrond had sensed something odd from her also.

He turned to Penny, projecting his question to her as he spoke, “Explain to us, where is this place that is in Arda but on no map we possess?”

She looked at him sadly once more and shook her head. She tapped her temple again.

“Try, Pen-ii. Tell us. It cannot be any more strange than anything else you have told us so far.”

He did not project this to her but she understood he was asking her to continue irrespective of how insane it would sound.

And it was going to sound bloody insane. That was for sure.

She sighed, dried her eyes and considered for a moment. She shook her head, looked at them all to check they were watching her and began.

The floor was tiled. She dragged a finger along a line between the tiles on the floor that ran in front of her from right to left. She looked up at them, saw nods, and continued.

She pointed to the far right of the line. She mimed singing and said, “Eru, Valar, Maia.” She moved her finger along a bit. “Eldar.” She mimed yawning and stretching. “Eldar to Valinor.” She looked up to check they were following. They were. She ran her finger along the line some way and said, “The Silmarillion.”

All six exchanged a glance and Gandalf interrupted her. “You know The Silmarillion?”

She nodded. They were astonished. Even more so when she added, “And the Valaquenta.”

She continued, dragging her finger once more over that section of the line, saying, “Morgoth, Feanor, Silmarils, Turin, Tuor, Beren.” She lowered her hand to indicate falling, “Nargothrond, Doriath, Gondolin.”

She glanced up to Glorfindel who nodded, his face grim suddenly.

She pointed at the line. “Elros and Elrond.” She looked at Elrond as she said his name.

She moved her finger along, “Eriador. Celebrimbor. Rings.” She indicated this with the fingers of one hand round a finger of the other once more. She held up the relevant number of fingers each time as she said, “Seven for the dwarves. Nine for the edain.”

She paused. “Three for the Eldar.” She glanced at Gandalf. “Narya, Vilya and Nenya.”

His eyebrows shot up and he silently projected to her.

/Do you know who wears them? All three/

She nodded.

Gandalf spoke silently, projecting what he had just learnt to Elrond whose jaw stiffened. Penny continued.

“Sauron made the One.”

She looked at them. Yup, they were following her. Good.

“Numenor. Sauron. Pharazon.” Again the falling hand, “Numenor.” She made a quick horizontal movement to indicate ‘gone’. Her finger moved further on the line.

“Elendil. Gondor and Arnor. Battle of the Last Alliance. Isildur. Ring from Sauron.” Again the cutting motion and the ring sign.

She hesitated. She drew her finger along so it was now right in front of her, exactly in the middle of the line. “Now,” she said. “Here, today.” She pointed at the floor. Then she pointed at all of them.

She looked at Gandalf. He nodded, smiling.

“We understand. Continue,” he said.

She hesitated once more. They could see fear flash across her face. She took a breath.

Then they watched in astonishment and increasing disbelief as she dragged her finger along the line, past the time of ‘now’ till it was at the far end of the left side of the line.

She looked up at them, keeping her finger there while she pointed to herself.

“Me. England.”

She pointed at the middle point once more, at all of them, and made the book sign. Then at the left end point again, at herself, and then she ‘read’ her open palms as if reading a book.

“She is insane,” Elrond murmured.

Halbarad could hardly breathe. Aragorn’s eyes were narrowed in thought and his brow furrowed in disbelief. Erestor and Glorfindel could not accept that they had understood her correctly. Only Gandalf, as ever, though his eyebrows were arched in confusion and surprise, allowed himself a smile.

“Now it becomes clear. This is why she feels so distant to me in time. This is why she reminds me of those from long ages past and yet it was utterly dissimilar at the same time.”

The others stared at him.

“You cannot be serious, Mithrandir,” Glorfindel spluttered. “You believe this nonsense?!”

Gandalf looked at him, his eyes flashing slightly, “Have you an alternative explanation for how she knows what she knows, Glorfindel? If so, please share it with us. I, for one, would be most interested to hear it. What she has just told us fits. It fits absolutely with what we know of her and her erratic behaviour. She has read stories, myths from long ago that are so lost in the mists of time that no one believes they ever existed or occurred. Somehow she is here, with us now, in the middle of something she considered an absolute fabrication.”

He turned to Halbarad now. “You understand her mistrust and fear now? She was trying to find any explanation for it all other than the truth. The truth would be too much for her to understand. This poor woman has probably thought she was going mad, possibly still thinks it. This is why she has heard of the Eldar and Periannath and yet acted so extremely when she saw them in the flesh. This explains her laughter at the Nazgûl. She hurt herself, Halbarad, I suspect, to see if it is was real. To see if she was hallucinating or dreaming. She could not dream such pain or such injuries. She could not dream of one of the Eldar when she saw them. She could not deny the reality of what she was surrounded by, then, and yet to her it was all a story. Can you not see how this fits?”

Halbarad nodded. It did indeed. It was too strange to contemplate, though.

“But how..? How did she get here?” he asked, his voice indicating his incredulity.

“We have asked her that already and she says she does not know and I for one believe her. Eru moves in strange ways and fate decrees we know not what at times. Were not Beren and Luthien sent back from death? Much that may seem strange to some has in fact occurred.”

Elrond was shaking his head. He was not convinced. “It is too outlandish, Mithrandir. I cannot believe this.”

Penny saw him and heard his tone of voice. She looked at Gandalf and pointed at Elrond. “He does not believe me?”

Gandalf shook his head. Penny looked at Elrond, then Gandalf.

“Tell him I know what happened yesterday. The Council. The meeting between you all. You, Elrond, Gloin, the Eldar from Thranduil, Boromir, Aragorn. I know.”

Their eyes were wide once more. Having heard the names she had listed she could only be talking about one thing.

“What was that?” asked Elrond, looking at Gandalf sharply. “Was this about the Council?”

Gandalf nodded. “She says she knows what occurred.”

“Impossible!” Elrond stared at her.

So, she told them.

Gandalf translated the sense of what he could understand from her: Gloin telling of the Nazgul visiting Erebor; Legolas telling of Smeagol’s escape; Boromir and the dream; she told them that Aragorn had related his tale of Gollum’s capture; that Bilbo had told them of how he got the Ring. She spoke of Saruman’s treachery and even told them of the journey of the hobbits from the Shire including their meeting with Tom Bombadil. They were astounded and, as she talked, finally convinced.

Elrond still wavered, though. She was saying to him, “You chose nine.” She held up her fingers. “Eight others to go with Maura and the One.” Elrond checked he had understood with Gandalf and then nodded.

There was a beat. Penny counted them off on her fingers and they all gasped as she did so.

“Maura, Aragorn, Boromir, Legolas, Gimli, Ban, Mithrandir..”

She was thankful she had remembered Sam’s real name. She stopped. They could see she knew more. She hesitated over the two remaining fingers. She smiled sadly and looked at Gandalf.

“He has not chosen them yet, but I know who they will be.”

Gandalf smiled, nodded, and translated. Elrond was speechless. Halbarad glanced at Aragorn and spoke to him directly.

“That is why she reacted as she did at breakfast yesterday,” he said quietly. “It was Boromir who nearly ran into her at the door.” He looked at Gandalf. “How did she know it was Boromir?”

Gandalf asked her and she smiled. She pointed at her hip and made a sign as if she held something to her lips to blow.

“The horn of Gondor,” Gandalf grinned. “Of course.”

She sat down once again. She watched them all as they took all this in. She could feel the tears rising once more, but as much from relief now as distress. She was still frightened, but at least they all knew now. At least she had been able to explain. Even if she didn’t understand herself what was going on. She looked at Halbarad who was regarding her with a soft, sad smile.

“Goheno nin, Halbarad. I behaved very badly, I know. But this life... Here... it is very different. I thought...” She laughed softly, “I thought you were tricking me. Playing a game. I thought you were pretending to be Halbarad, not the real Halbarad.”

Halbarad threw a questioning glance to Gandalf.

“She is apologising. She knows now she did not behave well with you. But she did not understand what was happening. She thought someone was playing a joke with her. That is why she was so angry with you.”

Halbarad nodded, turning to her smiling, as he said something to Gandalf. She heard Gandalf’s voice in her head.

/He understands. It is in the past/

“Le hannon, Halbarad,” she said quietly, smiling at him a little shyly.

Elrond spoke quietly. “So she knows of us and our deeds. It is most strange. She knows, then, of how this will turn out and what will come of it all.”

All six looked at her, suddenly, as that realisation hit them.

She could see they were looking at her with a mixture of awe and astonishment. She furrowed her brows and looked at Gandalf.

“You know what will happen, do you not?” he asked her.

She gasped and looked down suddenly, nodding. ‘No. I won’t think about it. They can’t ask me. I won’t tell them. I can’t. I can’t. It’s...’

“Yes, I do, Mithrandir,” she said quietly, looking despairingly at him. “But I don’t think I should say anything about it. To do so, to warn of the evil or relay the good that will occur might change what decisions are taken, it could affect everything. It is not my place to do that, and I wouldn’t feel right doing it. Though...” she hesitated, “I want to desperately.”

A silent tear rolled down her cheek and she looked at her lap.

“I know things I wish I didn’t know, Gandalf. People will fall. And I know who they are.” She looked up at him, “I will not willing say anything of what is going to happen. But if you think I should I will. You and you alone, Mithrandir. If you wish to know, even if just for yourself I will tell you. You can then decide if you wish to tell anyone else or not. It is up to you.”

Gandalf nodded. He understood her well enough. He turned to the others.

“She does indeed know. And it is a great burden to her. But she does not wish to change or alter any decision, even if she would be warning us against evils that will occur.”

He held up his hand to stop the gasps and quiet protests.

“Now, now, I have to say she is right. I agree. It may be... It may be we will succeed. However small a hope we may have of it. By warning us and saving us from one evil on the way to the victory, a chain of events could be set in motion that could prevent that victory from coming to pass. I will not ask her. Nor would I have any of you ask. Further I insist that this fact, that she knows of us and of our futures, must be kept amongst ourselves and not made known to any others it may affect, and I include those accompanying Maura to Mordor in this. No good could come of such a thing were it known, of that I am certain.”

While he had been speaking Penny had stood and gone to look out into the garden. She had not wanted to think about it, but talking to Gandalf, and knowing he was possibly telling them what she had said, meant she could not fight it any longer. He would die. Admittedly to be reborn, but the Fellowship would lose him. Boromir. She sobbed. Boromir! Brave Boromir. His attack on Frodo and his valiant death. And not just Boromir, either: Theoden, Hama, ...

Her breath caught in her throat suddenly, her heart thumping hard against her chest.

Halbarad! Dear God. Halbarad died at Pelennor Fields, didn’t he?

She was wracking her brains, trying to remember. She didn’t hear someone call her name so absorbed was she in her spinning thoughts. Knowing who they were was one thing, but this... knowing who would die was worse. Ten times worse. A million times worse and especially now she had met them. Boromir only for a moment, admittedly, but Halbarad...!

She clutched the doorframe, desperately trying to keep herself under control. She was choking back sobs, trying to steady her breathing.

A voice came behind her, saying her name gently. She turned, the tears streaming down her face. She smiled, forced herself to, and then threw her arms about Halbarad’s neck and wept.

He, somewhat startled, held her gently, glancing over his shoulder to the others with a bemused expression on his face. Eventually she calmed and he brought her back to her seat. Elrond was looking at her more kindly than he had for the entire morning.

“Well, my dear, it would seem, however strange, we have our answer,” he said to her. “I have to say I find it difficult to accept, but I have little choice given the extent of knowledge you have of things you could not possibly know otherwise. Now we must decide what we are to do with you.” Penny was smiling politely but looked to Gandalf to explain.

/He accepts your story, though it is strange. What do we do with you now?/

She nodded. What would they do with her now?

Of course, if this was a Mary Sue, she’d head off with the Fellowship, bonking Leggy and saving Boz. She giggled. There were raised eyebrows then. She apologised.

“I am still getting used to being here. With you all. It is both an honour and very strange for me.”

Gandalf nodded, grinning, and explained to the others who smiled. She realised that, once Gandalf left, she would be in difficulties once more.

“I would like to learn Sindarin,” she said suddenly.

Gandalf was pleased. Elrond clearly guessed what she had said and smiled. He asked her, Gandalf projecting, what she knew of the language already. She looked a little sheepish and listed everything she could remember which wasn’t much.

“Mostly names and place-names.” Gandalf nodded and explained her words.

Then she said anything she could remember: ‘farewell’, ‘well met’, ‘please’, ‘thank you’, ‘forgive me’, ‘do not speak’, ‘down!’, ‘my lord’, ‘my lady’, ‘husband’, ‘wife’, ‘elf’, ‘female elf’, ‘man’, ‘hobbit’. She was struggling then.

There were one or two other things she COULD remember but she wasn’t going to say them. Not here. Not in all male company. Even in mixed company. For her to have come six thousand years and then admit she knew ‘my love’, ‘my lover’, ‘I love you’, ‘your place or mine’ and ‘take your clothes off and get on the bed’ would be... amusing for them? Embarrassing? Alarming? All three? It was a sad indication of the kind of fics she enjoyed too if that was nearly half the Sindarin she could come up with! She blushed.

The six exchanged a look as they saw her open her mouth as if to say more Sindarin, close it rapidly and then colour vividly but say nothing. Glorfindel and Halbarad smirked knowingly at each other and Aragorn, catching their look, grinned.

Elrond was asking if she could read and write. She nodded, but then added, “But not Tengwar.”

He nodded and stood, moving to his desk and beckoning her to follow him. He presented her with a quill and parchment. She looked aghast.

“I will break it,” she said, turning to Gandalf. “We don’t use such things to write with anymore.” Gandalf chuckled and indicated for her to try nonetheless. She struggled, scratching terribly, leaning over Elrond’s desk as he watched her.

“Do you not have anything else?” she muttered, exasperated and throwing the quill to the desktop.

Elrond smiled and reached in a drawer for a box. He pulled off the lid and presented her with a box of charcoal.

She smiled. Much better. She wrote her own name. They watched, fascinated, as she wrote in this completely alien alphabet. She then wrote each of their names, spelling out each one and reading them for them once she was done. All six were crowded round the desk now, amazed.

Well, she could write. This was a start. Erestor was poring over what she had written, utterly absorbed in it. Elrond looked at him.

“Erestor? I want you to organise lessons for her. This afternoon and then every day.”

“Certainly, my lord,” he nodded. “I shall arrange it immediately.” With a bow he left.

Penny still felt a little uneasy with them, but the atmosphere had changed. In the process of all this she had had to come to terms with what had happened to her, like it or not, insane or not. No looking back now.

She caught Halbarad’s eye and he grinned at her. Well, at least they don’t think I’m mad anymore. Well, no more than anyone usually does, at any rate.

Gandalf explained Elrond had asked for lessons to be organised for her and that she would stay in Rivendell for the time being. She turned to Elrond and bowed, smiling gratefully. Gandalf told them she was both moved and honoured to be allowed to stay in such a place and among such people. She was eternally in his debt.

Given the amount she’d angered and upset them that day she was now doing some spectacular crawling. They had to give her that.

‘/’and italics indicate silent speech projection to Penny from Gandalf. At all other times he speaks out loud as well as projecting. When the need for secrecy or privacy is paramount, though, he does not speak, only projects his thoughts/words into her head.

For anyone who is remotely interested I am reliably informed that the Sindarin for 'Your place or mine?' is "Bar lîn egor nîn?" and 'Take off your clothes and get on the bed!' is "Heltho a caitho erin i haust!" Well... you never know when it might come in useful, do you? ;)

Many thanks, as ever, for the reviews - it is so interesting hearing people's comments and reactions to it all. Much appreciated. ~Boz~

Chapter 13 - “A Square Peg”

Halbarad, Aragorn and Glorfindel walked Penny to the dining hall for lunch leaving Gandalf and Elrond debating what should be done with her.

Penny felt a little odd now that her story was known and understood. She was pleased, relieved even, but it was a bit weird knowing that they knew all about her now.

She could tell the three of them were glancing at her every now and then as they walked, no doubt in a mixture of astonishment and bemusement. She could hear them muttering to each other occasionally and looked up at one point to see Aragorn shaking his head as if in disbelief while Glorfindel cast a look in her direction.

She bridled. Then she scowled.

As the four turned a corner into another corridor and then started down a wide flight of steps towards the door of the dining hall, she heard Glorfindel whisper something to the other two. She glanced up to see him leaning in to Halbarad who was nodding, looking serious. Aragorn was listening intently. It was obvious they were talking about her.

She stopped, hands on hips and glaring at them as they carried on walking past her not even realising.

“That’s it! You’re just being RUDE now, you know that? And you great heroes and all! You should know better! It’s not MY fault, you know. I can understand it freaks you out, but there isn’t ANYTHING I can do about that! Imagine how I feel, for God’s sake!”

The three had stopped and glanced at each other. Glorfindel’s eyebrows were raised. Aragorn, on a higher step from him, was staring at her in astonishment. Halbarad, though, laughed.

“She has a temper on her. In fairness, though, we WERE talking about her and I believe she has guessed as much.”

Aragorn looked impassive but his eyes were glinting with laughter as he said, “Given that we now know she knows precisely who she is talking to, I am amazed at her audacity.” He bowed, “Forgive us, Pen-ii. You are right to scold us. We should not have forgot ourselves and been so rude.”

She stared at him for a moment as if considering his apology, though in truth she had only understood ‘goheno’. She nodded curtly.

“Right. Well. Just don’t let it happen again, that’s all.”

She stomped past them and down towards the dining hall.

The three watched her, catching each other’s glances. Halbarad was grinning.

“I don’t know what she just said but she sounded just like my mother!”

Aragorn snorted, “I know what you mean.”

Glorfindel whispered, “Sounded just like Elrond to me.”

The three laughed.

Penny, assuming the laughter was at her expense, turned her head and scowled.

The three bit their lips and sniggered, holding their hands up to her as an apology. “Not about you, Pen-ii. Not about you,” Halbarad was saying. He turned back to the other two, “A grown man of near seventy made to feel like I am no more than twelve! This is ridiculous!”

Chuckling they followed her down.

'Men! Bloody typical. Even sodding elves behaving like pillocks.' Still, Penny couldn’t believe she had just done that. She had just told off Aragorn, Glorfindel and Halabarad. ARAGORN, GLORFINDEL and HALBARAD! The mind boggled. She was getting WAY too familiar. Not good. Even if they WERE being very ungentlemanly and talking behind her back to her face... or something like that.

She smirked as a thought flitted through her head: the sooner she learnt Sindarin the better. Then she could REALLY give them what for! She shook her head even as the thought came to her, though. No, she would have to learn how to behave. They might accept it once or twice as a joke, but there were limits. No one would have dared speak to three such warriors and heroes as she had just done, let alone a woman; and a woman who barely knew them no matter how much she may THINK she knew them from having read about them all so many times. She was going to have to learn to bite her tongue.

As she reached the dining hall she slowed. She was still nervous about large company, especially given those she knew would be there.

The three males, seeing her hesitate and better understanding it now, came up to her. Halbarad spoke gently to her and insisted she take his arm. He glanced at Aragorn and they both mutually decided they would take her to the end of a table and away from the general company. Glorfindel, bowing to her and taking her hand to kiss it, which flustered, embarrassed and thrilled her all at the same time, excused himself to go off and ensure Elrond’s other guests and visitors were being looked after.

Just as the three sat down, the hobbits came over to join them, talking excitedly and all at once to Aragorn. They noticed Penny and bowed, greeting her and she returned their smiles and inclined her head.

Halbarad had felt her stiffen beside him, though, as they had appeared. He touched her arm and murmured to her, “Pen-ii, I know this is hard for you. But we know about you now. That must help a little, I would think. We will not judge you if you want to leave.”

She didn’t understand him, but guessed he was reassuring her and she smiled at him, grateful for his concern. In truth it WAS a relief, somehow, knowing that both Aragorn and Halbarad knew and, she presumed, would not blame her if she found it all too much to cope with. As a consequence it was all so much easier to deal with, strangely. She was actually able to eat and enjoy a meal for the first time since she had arrived. That was in spite the fact that she was sat opposite to Aragorn, next to Halbarad, within spitting distance of four famous hobbits and that the rest of the Fellowship and other ‘well known persons’ were also somewhere in the room.

Halbarad noticed and was glad.

After the meal there was a brief, silent, hand gestured debate between Halbarad and Penny. She made to leave and he, stopping her, looked questioningly at her as if to ask where she was going.

She pointed and then made a rubbing motion of her skirts between her hands as if washing. She needed to wash the elvish undershift.

He shook his head, taking her hand to show the cuts and bruises, healing but still visible.

She smiled gratefully and, placing her hand on his, tried to reassure him. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”

He moved his finger to point to both himself and her alternately several times. He clearly meant ‘we’. Then he gestured in the direction she had pointed.

She flushed and shook her head vehemently. There was no way he was coming with her to watch her wash an undershift. She strongly suspected, rightly, that it would be the Middle Earth equivalent of him watching her wash her knickers.

He nodded, accepting her refusal. “Then I will make sure someone comes with you,” he said. She didn’t understand. He shook his head and smiled. “Don’t worry. Go.” He would send someone to her room or to catch up with her.

All six of Penny’s inquisitors had been thrown a little, to say the least, by what had occurred that morning. It beggared belief and yet there was no other explanation that would fit her knowledge of the unknowable and her behaviour thus far. There was no doubt in any of their minds that her tale, however bizarre and outlandish, was indeed true.

All six, and Aragorn, Gandalf and Elrond in particular, tried not to think about the fact that she knew the outcome of all the efforts they had made thus far and were about to put into motion. All held on to the idea that the story she had read had been worth telling for the right reasons. Not because in the end hope utterly failed them and darkness fell.

Gandalf was especially keen to talk to her more given that he could now, on a basic level at least, understand her and throw his mind to her. Still he knew he was getting only an outline of whatever she said and he had to keep his thoughts to her fairly simple. But it was enough. It had certainly been more than enough that morning.

He grinned. He was pleased his immediate instinct and reading of her had been proved right. There was a small part of him that was terribly proud, and yet utterly unsurprised, that these events he was part of were as significant as he had always known them to be. He was not at all shocked to learn that she knew of hobbits, and the names of the five in Rivendell in particular. He had always known hobbits would have an important part to play in all this.

A slow, warm smile spread across his face as he chewed at the end of his pipe while Elrond made a show of standing by the open door to the garden in an attempt to get away from the tobacco smoke.

The person Halbarad sent to Penny was the same female elf who had showed her to her chambers that first evening in Rivendell. It was now generally known in Rivendell that the human female who had arrived with Halbarad had been found by him, lost and far from home, and that she spoke neither Sindarin or Westron. So the elleth kept things simple and used lots of hand gestures.

Penny quickly learnt her name was Mireth. She had been surprised by Penny bringing soap with her but had not objected. She had led Penny to her own chambers to collect some washing she had to do so they might do it together and then they walked through the gates and the trees down to the river.

Halbarad had made a point of showing Penny the washing stoop the day before so that she could go there whenever she felt she needed to. Penny was grateful he had done so, but even more grateful he had sent someone to keep her company.

As they walked Mireth talked. Penny did not understand any of it, and Mireth knew this would be the case, but Penny found it pleasant all the same. It was relaxing to have someone chatter at you and feel at ease enough with you to do so.

“You shall have to teach me,” she said.

Mireth looked puzzled. Penny pointed at her tongue, made a talking sign, then pointed to Mireth and then herself. Mireth nodded, clearly delighted with this idea.

So then Penny found herself being told the names of things, most of which she instantly forgot. She laughed, holding her head as if she had a headache.

“Too much, Mireth! Too much! I’ll never remember it all!” and Mireth, guessing her meaning, laughed also.

She stopped her stream of Sindarin vocabulary and focused on just a few things. So Penny learnt ‘tree’, ‘grass’, ‘river’, ‘dress’, ‘slipper or shoe’ and ‘undershift’. Oh, and ‘soap’. She repeated them over and again. Then, on the way back from the river, Mireth tested her by pointing at them and looking at Penny with her eyebrows raised. Penny, laughing, would repeat the words and Mireth, hugely pleased by her student’s first lesson, grinned.

As they passed through the gate and came to the halls once more an elf came down the stairs towards them. He called Mireth and said something to her, indicating Penny as he did so. Mireth nodded and turned to Penny, “They have organised a Sindarin lesson for you. We will deal with these,” she indicated the wet clothes in the basket she was holding, “Then I will take you to Erestor’s study.”

Penny nodded. She had understood ‘Sindarin’ and ‘Erestor’ and had guessed the rest.

Erestor had been suggested by Elrond and, even if he had not, he would have put himself forward to teach her himself. Firstly, he was fascinated by the idea of learning or getting to at least know some of her language. The alphabet she used was most intriguing. Secondly he, like Elrond, felt that intimate contact should be limited to only a few for the time being and that it would be better if someone who knew her situation be the one to teach her. Erestor was, then, the obvious choice as busy as he was. Still it was unlikely she would be able to cope with much more than half an hour each day and he could spare that. Or, at least, he would just HAVE to spare it.

They went to Mireth’s room first and spread her clothes on an airer. Then Mireth came to Penny’s chambers. Penny just hung the undershift over the back of a chair.

“I will get you a clothes airer. There will be a spare one around somewhere I am sure,” said Mireth. She smiled and waved her hands at Penny as if to say ‘Never mind’ at Penny’s puzzled incomprehension.

She led her through corridors to Erestor’s study and stopped, indicating his door. She turned to go.

Penny called after her, “Mireth?” The elleth turned back to her. “Le hannon.” Mireth nodded, grinning, and went off in the direction they had just come. Penny turned back to the door, took a deep breath and knocked.

Not knowing if the response she had heard was a ‘come in’ or a ‘wait a moment’ she hesitated. Should she knock again? Should she go in? Bloody brilliant! First Sindarin lesson and she couldn’t even get through the sodding door!

She sighed. This was ridiculous.

She knocked again, tentatively.

The door was pulled open and Erestor, repeating his response to the first knock, motioned her to come in.

Okay. So she would have to try and remember that that meant ‘come in’. Not ‘please dither about outside my door like a complete idiot’.

Erestor’s study was about half the size of Elrond’s, though still large. All four walls were lined with bookcases and books. There was, as in Elrond’s room, a large door that opened out into the gardens. A desk was to one side and Erestor motioned for Penny to sit.

He said something as he did so. One word. He repeated it. He made a sitting motion and repeated the word a third time. She nodded and said the same word herself.

‘Okay. We’re learning, I guess. Trick’ll be remembering all this.’ Erestor nodded and smiled.

On the desk was a slate and a piece of chalk. Erestor now took up a position opposite her where a blackboard was resting on an easel. He studied her for a few moments and then he began. With the alphabet.

Penny groaned inwardly. He had to be joking, didn’t he? She was never going to remember this. No way. No way on earth.

She looked at him, scribbling letters on the board and did her best to copy them on the slate in front of her as he directed, repeating their sounds after him. Why couldn’t she have a bloody piece of paper? Something she could carry around with her? Something she could then re-read in her own time? Oh, God! This was just daft!

Erestor turned to see she was scowling at him. He raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Anything the matter, Pen-ii?”

She pointed to the slate. She made a writing motion. He looked puzzled.

She sighed. “Pen and paper. Can’t be that difficult, surely?”

She made the writing motion again. He came over to her and pointed at the slate. She shook her head.

“Paper.”

She looked about her and saw some scrolls and parchments on a table behind her. She pointed. “Paper.”

Erestor looked at what she was pointing at. He snorted.

“Parchment! Are you mad? I am not wasting paper on lessons! It is expensive and difficult to make and it cannot be wasted on such things. You can use slate and your memory like everyone else. When I think you are ready you can learn to use a quill and then and only then will you get parchment. And sparingly too.” He turned back to the blackboard, “Paper indeed!”

Penny opened her mouth and then closed it again. Clearly what she had suggested and asked for was utterly preposterous judging from his reaction. She mentally kicked herself. Paper was a luxury, no doubt, not the wasted resource of her time.

She felt a sinking feeling. This was going to make it ten times harder to learn this bloody language. She couldn’t write anything or keep anything written. It would all be in her head or on a slate that would be wiped clean for the next lesson. This was hopeless. She’d never learn to communicate. She sighed, picking up her chalk and carried on copying the letters and repeating their sounds.

Erestor did not overtask her. She started with six letters first of all and was given a word to learn that began with each one. Even if she didn’t know what the word meant, it would at least help her to remember the sound.

He glanced at the candle burning near him. The wax had melted down to near the half-hour mark. He stopped and inspected her slate.

Her letter forming was neat. This was good. He just hoped she would remember it. He handed it back to her, smiling.

“Very good, Pen-ii. Well done.”

She was not the first non-speaker he had taught, nor would she be the last he suspected. He was well practised at this.

He turned to the bookshelf nearest them and scanned along a high shelf till he found what he was looking for. A Sindarin reader. He handed it to her, leaning over the desk beside her as he opened it for her at the first page: an alphabet and one word written next to each letter. He read the first six lines for her, saying the letter’s sound and then the word that went with it.

She realised this was exactly the lesson he had just given her. He was reading the same words he had been giving her for each letter as she had copied them out several times each. She smiled. She picked up the book and waved it at him.

“Can I keep this? Is this for me to take away with me, to study?”

He guessed her meaning from the expression on her face and the hand gestures she was using. He nodded. She grinned.

Okay. Not perfect, but a lot better. Much better in fact. It would be hard, but who knew how long she would be stuck here and she would just have to work at it and do this. No matter how long it took.

It was still early in the afternoon when her first lesson finished. Her book under her arm and muttering the new words she had learnt to herself, Penny decided to wander in the gardens for a bit. She wondered where Halbarad was. In fact she wondered what on earth would happen now, and if any decision had been reached about what they would do with her. They had far more important things to worry about than her. She was just an unwanted pain in the backside, a problem they could have all done without. She was fairly certain of that. Not for the first time she felt how irksome she must be for them.

She had barely stepped out into the gardens when she saw Gandalf walking towards the halls. He looked up on seeing her and smiled.

“Pen-ii. I am glad I found you: Halbarad was looking for you.” He projected the last part of his sentence.

“Me?”

He nodded and indicated round a corner where the path led to the main gate. She nodded and headed off that way, Gandalf coming with her now that he had run into her since he had not been going anywhere in particular just then.

Halbarad was on his horse, Aragorn beside him and about to climb in the saddle. There were several elves, also on horseback, including Glorfindel, Elladan and Elrohir. She hadn’t met Elrohir yet. Halbarad hadn’t seen her, as he was deep in conversation with an elf beside him, but Aragorn smiled at her, saying her name and nodding, before he put his foot in the stirrup and swung his other leg up and over Roheryn’s rump.

For a moment Penny was baffled. They were leaving? Halbarad was going? But... but... he had only just got here. A wave of panic. He was leaving her alone amongst them all! Shit! She’d not realised quite how dependant she had become on his being around. Bloody ridiculous of her. Just a few days ago he was some stinking, ignorant, arsewipe and NOW she didn’t want to lose sight of him. She was kicking herself. She was being utterly stupid.

Elladan, seeing her, and not having had an opportunity thus far to greet her properly since that night he had spent with her in the woods, moved his horse forward and inclined his head to her.

“Pen-ii. Mae govannen.”

She returned his greeting as Gandalf said in her head, /He has been told. He deserved an explanation of your reaction to him. His brother also knows since nothing can be told to one without the other knowing. Elrond told them./

Penny nodded. “Le hannon, Mithrandir.”

Even as she said this, an elf who was the near spitting image of Elladan moved his horse to stand beside his brother. He smiled at Penny and, murmuring her name, he greeted her with a slow smile.

Something about him seemed softer, gentler than his brother. Penny strongly suspected he would not have thrown forty fits over her using his comb and that, if he’d felt the need to wash it, he would have done so more discretely than Elladan had done. ‘Less like his father,’ Penny concluded. Though how or why she came to such a conclusion she was not sure. Penny bowed.

“Mae govannen, Elrohir. I am honoured.”

Mithrandir, rather than translating, whispered the Sindarin for it in her ear. She repeated it hesitantly and blushing slightly. Elrohir grinned and acknowledged what she had said with an incline of his head.

The horses were turning to the gate and the twins moved away from her. Aragorn was off through the gate already following two other elves. As Halbarad turned his horse he saw her at last. He smiled.

“Pen-ii! Thank you for finding her, Mithrandir.” He walked his horse to her and looked down at her. “I wanted to say farewell.”

She understood ‘navaer’. Why the bloody hell did she feel tears come into her eyes? She was getting pretty damn cross with herself.

“Navaer, Halbarad.”

She wanted to ask if he was coming back. If she would see him ever again. If.. oh, God.. if this was IT and he was off into the wilds of Eriador till he got the message to round up the Dúnedain and head South to Rohan. In which case she really would never see him again. She was NOT going to cry, dammit.

She clenched her fists behind her back where neither he nor Mithrandir could seem them and dug her nails into her palms. She tried to sound breezy as she spoke.

“It’s a shame. I was going to show off the Sindarin I learnt today.” She waved her reader at him.

Before Mithrandir could explain she pointed at a tree. “Galadh,” she said. Halbarad grinned at her.

Then she suddenly realised. She turned wide-eyed to Gandalf and he looked at her, clearly sensing she was remembering something, that she knew something.

“They are going out to look for the Nazgûl, aren’t they?” Gandalf nodded.

She turned back to Halbarad and he smiled, though his face was grim having heard what she had said and guessed at its meaning. He had to go. He nodded and kicked his horse gently into a trot and rode towards the gate to catch up with the others, already out of sight through the trees.

“Halbarad!”

She ran after him. She really didn’t know if he would be coming back with Aragorn and the twins or not. ‘DON’T think about it. Don’t bloody THINK about it you silly cow!’ She refused to burst into tears. He stopped as she came level with his knee and looked up at him. She held her hand out to him and he took it.

“Le hannon. Le hannon for everything. I didn’t deserve the way you put up with me. I was dreadful to you. I am sorry. Just...”

It was pointless saying it. She knew. But she couldn’t help herself.

“Be careful.”

A sudden flash of inspiration made her add, “May Elbereth protect you.” That sounded suitably ‘Middle Earthian’ and the right kind of thing to say at such a moment.

Halbarad nodded, smiled, squeezed her hand and then said “Navaer Pen-ii” before riding out of the gates of Imladris.

Penny caught the sob in her throat so he wouldn’t hear it.

If I had remembered I would have had them question Penny before the Council, but wanted them to do it afterwards and misremembered when Aragorn left. Thought it was the next day or a few days afterwards. But no. It's there. First page of "The Ring Goes South". Well, it's too late now and the first major AU mistake and you all have my sincere apologies. *hangs head* Serves me right for presuming I remembered correctly rather than assuming I was wrong and double-checking first (you would have thought I’d have learnt from experience by now to not trust myself, wouldn’t you?). Let this be a lesson to us all. Principally me.

Ahem

Yes. Well.

Carry on. *grin*

Chapter 14 - “The Complete Set”

Penny stood there for a few moments struggling to keep her emotions under control. Even if she did never see him again, there was still some time before he...

‘Oh, and what! And that makes it alright does it! Stupid bloody woman!’

She resolved then and there, in that very instant, that she was not going to get to know Boromir. She would not be able to cope with it. Not at all. Just this was bad enough.

She sighed. As she turned she realised Gandalf was still there, leaning on his staff and watching her with a knowing gaze and kind eyes. He held out a hand to her and she walked towards him. As she drew alongside him he turned to walk beside her.

“It must be hard for you, to have such knowledge.” He spoke quietly, his tone gentle.

She nodded.

“It must be very strange for you to walk among us.” Again she nodded.

She stopped, turning to look at him. “Mithrandir... Am I doing the right thing? Not saying anything? I.. There are people who will die, Mithrandir. I find it difficult knowing them, meeting them, or knowing about them.”

Gandalf regarded her seriously for a moment. “Pen-ii, it will not be easy. You must understand that I, Lady Galadriel, even Lord Elrond, can have insights into what might be. It is not dissimilar from the knowledge you now possess. You are young, and a mortal, and unused to such a burden. It will be hard for you. But yes, it was the right decision. As you said, were it made known the changes people may then make could have disastrous effects. This is war. This is serious. There will be loss. And everyone involved knows that. That sacrifice, though terrible, will be worth it if we succeed. The alternative will be darkness, terror beyond imagination.”

As he spoke and she heard his voice in her head, she could also sense what he was talking of. She could feel his earnestness, his seriousness, his immeasurable patience, wisdom and mercy.

Then, as he spoke of the darkness, she could feel a terror she had never known within her. The same sheer bloody fear you feel in the middle of a nightmare. When that black nameless thing is behind you and you can feel it, hear it, sense it and you daren’t turn round to look but just keep running, running, but it’s catching up with you, about to grab hold of you...

It faded as Gandalf smiled sadly and continued. “Besides. Even if those of whose fates you know were told what would occur it would not stop them. If they fall in battle and are warriors all, as I suspect may be the case, then do not think that fear of death would stop them nor even knowledge of certain death. They would still fight. For honour and glory. For King and country. For truth and right. To defeat evil and darkness. You know that.”

She nodded, her eyes wet with tears. Boromir would still defend the hobbits from the uruks. Halbarad would not be stopped from joining the Dúnedain in battle. Nor Háma from defending his people and his homeland at Helm’s Deep. Indeed, it would be shameful for them not to fight. Unthinkable and very wrong to try and stop them. The same for Theoden. For Theodred. For Faramir, though injured not killed. Even Merry and Pippin would prove their courage and nobility through the injuries they would suffer. As would Frodo. Poor nine-fingered Frodo.

She shook her head. Now she was here, within it and it was real, it seemed even more dreadful. What these people would go through, were prepared to go through, the cost that would be told upon them. It was extraordinary. In that moment Penny felt overwhelmed in pride and awe. They were capable of a strength of will, a sense of honour and bravery that she doubted she could even find in her little finger. So damn impressive.

They fell silent for a while.

Penny asked, “Was a decision made? About me?”

“Yes. You are to stay here for the meantime.”

Was that it? No detail, no explanation? She looked at him, a little peeved.

He sensed her irritation. “What more would you have us do, Pen-ii? We do not know you. You know far too much for us to allow you to leave us. And where would you go? Besides these are dangerous times for you to be able to travel. We are safe enough here in the valley of Imladris, for the time being at least, but out there...” He indicated vaguely around him. “Out there it is very dangerous indeed. Or did your book not tell you that?”

She glanced at him. He wasn’t angry. His tone was questioning, not berating. She nodded, “Yes, it did. And till you know the fate of the Nazgûl nothing can happen.”

He nodded, his eyes twinkling, “Though I am sure you could tell me in an instant where they are and what has happened.” She did not return his smile. Just nodded sadly. “Do not fear, Pen-ii. I would not ask. I would not put you in such a position.”

“Le hannon.”

“How was your lesson? With Erestor?”

She sighed. “It is hard. Very hard. I am not good with languages at all. And where I come from we write everything down and do not rely on our memories so much. I am not used to learning by rote. I asked for paper and Erestor thought I was bonkers.”

Gandalf laughed. “Paper is important, Pen-ii. He would not want to use it wastefully. Once you have some competence you may be allowed some. Indeed, I am sure he will want to learn your alphabet and language as much as he will want to teach you Sindarin and for that either you or he will write it all down no doubt. Erestor is very learned and bookish.”

Penny nodded. She was not getting everything Gandalf was saying, but enough. Enough that they could conduct a conversation and more or less understand each other.

She was grateful. Other than the questioning this was probably the most she had spoken to someone, actually had mutual communication with someone, for days. That hadn’t helped with her sense of isolation and losing the plot completely. She suspected that was one, small reason why she had felt so much better after the questioning: she had managed to communicate with someone at last! It was why she was so bloody determined to crack this Sindarin thing. Even if it killed her. Which, she suspected, was extremely possible given how crap she was at things like this. She’d studied Spanish for three years and could just about count to twenty and ask for a beer and that was it! She sighed.

Gandalf was talking again. “One very important thing, Pen-ii. I hope my instinct is right since I got the impression from some of the things you said this morning that I perhaps do not need to say this, but I will do so nevertheless. You are to say nothing to anyone. Both about your situation and the knowledge you possess. In particular your knowledge of the Ring. To anyone. Even if they are one of those who will travel with Maura. I must impress the importance of this upon you.”

Penny nodded. “You didn’t need to tell me that, Mithrandir.”

“I know. But Elrond was worried.”

They had reached a small tended garden by the side of the main hall. There was a bench beside a fountain around which the path wound and then continued on towards the steps up to the main door of the building. Gandalf sat and motioned her to sit beside him. He asked her about her age, if she had family, though he did not ask her too much about her life, her lifestyle, or what it was like where she came from. It was as if he really didn’t want to know too much about life in the future. He was surprised that she was not married.

“But by your age most human females would be married and with children.”

She laughed, “Not where I come from! Marriage? Kids!” She shuddered. “Not bloody likely!”

“You do not wish to marry?” His eyebrows had met his hairline in his astonishment.

“Well... maybe one day. But not yet. Too young to settle down!”

There was a stunned silence.

“Too young? You are twenty-three! How much longer would you wait?”

She shrugged, laughing.

Before she could reply Mireth appeared round the corner of the building and, spotting her, called her name and came running over, smiling. She bowed as she approached with a murmured “Mithrandir” before beaming at Penny.

“Pen-ii, you have to come and be measured. They are going to make some clothes for you since you are to be here with us a little while and you have absolutely nothing of your own, you poor dear. Come,” and she held her hand out to her.

Penny stood to take it, though she was utterly mystified as to what was happening. She looked to Gandalf who smiled.

“Elrond has ordered clothes for you. You need to be measured.”

Penny gasped. “Tell him I am most honoured and touched.” Gandalf nodded, smiling, as Mireth pulled Penny away to the halls.

It was actually a small room on the ground floor that Mireth took Penny to. As she entered she could see it was like a workroom, with a long large table in its centre and the walls were lined with bolts of material of every colour and sort. No patterned materials. All plain colours, but a large variety: pink, red, browns of various kinds, three kinds of blue, several greens, yellow, even orange. There was a large chest of drawers to one side which had countless tiny drawers within it which Penny was later to discover was full of buttons of every description, threads, buckles, ribbons and strings. There were several large pairs of scissors on the central table but to Penny they looked more like garden shears in a way. They comprised of two blades, joined at the handles by a hoop, which was squeezed together to get the blades to cut against each other.

There were three elleths in the room, all seated on stools or at tables, and sewing. One was embroidering the sleeve of a tunic, the other two were hand-sewing together pieces of possibly a dress given the size of the pieces but she couldn’t be sure. At the far end of the room Penny could see an open door through which many other female-elves were visible sitting, sewing and chattering away. Someone in the far room was singing quietly as they worked.

Penny smiled shyly and returned the murmured greeting of the three elleths in the room as Mireth introduced her. The one doing the embroidery, Eleniel, had already started rummaging in a small wicker basket on the little table in front of her as soon as she had seen them come in. She eventually found what she was looking for: a tape measure. It seemed to be made of a long piece of leather, light in colour and very thin, with markings on it. She stood and beckoned Penny over to her. As she took the measurements she called them out over her shoulder and another of the elves wrote them down on a slate with chalk.

Once they were done, Eleniel disappeared into the back room and returned a little while later with a dress and undershift slung over her shoulder. She proffered them to Penny who took them muttering her thanks. Then Penny realised they were all looking at her. Mireth made an encouraging movement at her.

They wanted her to put them on now! Undress in front of them: these tall, willowy, no doubt physically perfect beings. Yeah right! She felt herself blushing a little.

The elves laughed softly and Eleniel then gestured to another door, closed and in a side wall. Penny nodded and opened it to find it was a little store room, containing yet more material, piles of leather skins, and boxes full of she knew not what.

She quickly undressed and put on the new clothes. The undershift fitted very well, as did the light blue dress, but they were long since they had clearly been made to fit an elf, not a human. She came out, hitching her skirts so she did not tread on them, to find Eleniel was gesturing to a chair. She made to sit and there was more laughter, though gentle, and she realised they wanted her to stand on it. The bottom of the dress and shift were folded at the right length, to the ankle bone, and Eleniel quickly made a few stiches at the spot to keep the folded material in place and so mark the length. She nodded and smiled and gestured back to the store room.

“So I take this off?” Penny made ‘taking off’ gestures and hoped they understood her. They did. And she was right.

As Mireth grinned and chattered to her as they made their way back down the corridors, Penny couldn’t help but feel guilty. She felt highly embarrassed that those elleths would be slaving away hand-stitching a dress for her. Or possibly more than one, she didn’t know. They had clearly asked her if she could sew and she, feeling a little shameful, had had to admit she couldn’t. She had no bloody clue. Her granny could. A little. But even she mainly knitted and that was all.

There had been murmurs of astonishment from them all as she had shook her head. Mireth had said something to her, motioning between them, then pointing to Penny, her eye and making sewing motions. Penny presumed she’d been saying she would teach her. She had nodded but she suspected it would be an unmitigated disaster.

There was a lot she was going to have to learn. She remembered Halbarad and the rabbit. The offal at Bree. There were basic skills and aspects of life that would be completely alien to her even if just two or three generations back from her they would have been everyday.

She mulled over all this and then a sudden panic gripped her as a thought struck her. What about...? Oh SHIT! What was she going to do when...? She kicked herself for never having asked her grandmother what she had done every month. Did elves even get them? Given they could control their breeding, probably not. Assuming she was still on the same cycle she had been before she arrived here she had a week on her hands to work something out... Or at least she hoped she did. How the bloody hell was she going to ask about this one? Get Gandalf to translate for her? NO BLOODY WAY! She would have to try and talk to Mireth. How? She mentally groaned. No sooner did she find her feet, it seemed, something would come along and turn everything upside down.

Dusk had fallen. Elves walked past them, slowly lighting the torches already in their wall-brackets. Penny realised Mireth was heading towards the dining hall. She stopped her, showing her her book.

“I’ll take this to my room, first, I think. Don’t want it covered in wine or gravy. Erestor wouldn’t be impressed I don’t think.”

Mireth nodded, realising what she was saying, and they turned together to head towards the staircase to the upper floors. Mireth held out her hand for the book and, as they walked, Penny pointed out the first six lines of the alphabet, repeating the letters and words she had been taught. Already she had misremembered one because Mireth had to correct her. She sighed. Mireth smiled encouragingly at her and then pointed to her dress and then her shoes, getting Penny to repeat at least some of the words she had taught her that afternoon. She beamed as Penny got them right. Eventually they reached her room, now dark. Penny placed the book on a dresser by the door and then the two headed off to eat.

This was the first time that Penny had been to the dining hall without Halbarad or Aragorn around to keep an eye on her and she felt a little nervous. Mireth took her to sit right amongst the elves and one of them was Eleniel the seamstress who moved up a little so there was space for Penny between her and Mireth. It became clear she and Mireth were friends.

Everywhere Penny looked there were gorgeous features, high cheekbones, grey or grey-green eyes, and long flowing hair. The men were utterly stunning: broad shoulders, lithe and strong. The women were beautiful in a way that made your breath stop. Penny felt very small, desperately unattractive and rather useless sat amongst them all. She looked up to see Gandalf and the hobbits on the other side of the room. Pippin caught her eye and nodded and waved with a grin. She smiled back.

Whatever the hell they were eating tonight Penny was deeply suspicious of it. On one platter was clearly a pile of whole, stuffed hearts. Liver, kidneys and onions on another. Then there was something indefinable: it looked liverish but was a lot paler, the colour of chicken almost, and seemed squidgier somehow since she watched as an elf, with the utmost delicacy and poise, picked some up with a piece of bread and the bread had sliced through the meat as if it were soft butter.

Penny just helped herself to vegetables.

Mireth was trying to encourage some of the meat on her but she, as politely as she could, refused. She pointed to the pale pieces of meat.

“What is that?”

Quite why this was funny she had no idea but the elves round her who had seen what she had pointed to started giggling. She looked to Mireth who was both trying not to laugh and scowl at her friends at the same time.

Eleniel whispered something in Penny’s ear which, of course, Penny didn’t understand at all. Mireth, meanwhile, turned to the others and said something sharply which made them all look suitable shamefaced, murmur something that sounded like ‘goheno’ in Penny’s direction and get on with their meal quietly.

Meanwhile Penny was looking at the meat wondering what on earth this was all about. They were pale ovals, sliced in half...

'Wait a minute: ovals? Oh no. No. No way. You don’t eat THOSE... Do you? Oh my GOD!'

Penny could feel herself going red as a beetroot. She glanced at Mireth who, realising she’d guessed, grinned and nodded. She caught Eleniel’s eye who smirked and went a little pink.

“They’re very good. Try some,” Mireth said, scooping up some with a serving spoon to put on her plate but offering it to Penny first.

Penny waved her hands in horror. “No. No, bloody way. No thanks. I’ll stick to veggies, thanks.” Mireth shrugged and tucked in.

What had she been saying to herself earlier about getting used to things? All she needed now was to be served brain and tripe and it could well put her off meat for life. I mean, there’s ‘using all parts of the animal’ and then there’s ‘a step too far’, frankly. Testicles! Bloody TESTICLES! She shook her head. She couldn’t get used to this AT ALL.

After the meal Penny went with the elves she had shared her meal with to the hall of Fire. Bilbo was here once again, she noted, and soon a hobbit huddle was formed against one wall around him as they listened to the songs being sung and the poems recited. Mireth, meanwhile, was introducing Penny to various elves in the room. Penny promptly forgot every name she was told and she had the distinct feeling that several of the elves were less than impressed with her. Whether it was her in particular or humans in general she had no idea.

The dwarves were here and, as Mireth sat her on a bench and then went off to fetch two cups of wine for them, Penny studied them closely. Of the five it was obvious which one was Glóin with his long white beard, and there seemed to be one that he spoke most to. She had noticed it whenever she had seen them previously. She wondered, not for the first time, if that was Gimli.

Scanning the room she quickly found Boromir once more. He was in conversation with Elrond, sipping from a cup as he did so. She noticed he had shaved and was in clean clothes. No doubt had had a bath too. He was not as tall as Aragorn but still six foot or very nearly, about the same height as Halbarad. And strong. That was obvious. Well built and muscular. But then all the males, human and elf, seemed to be. No doubt all the physical labour of life here, let alone the training they all did with weapons.

Mireth was in conversation with a group of elves on the far side of the room. Eleniel was amongst them. Penny could see Mireth had two cups in her hand so she had clearly been waylaid on her way back to her. The elves were dark-haired except for three blonds who were dressed all in greens and browns. The Mirkwood elves.

Penny realised, since she could see all three clearly for the first time since they were facing her and not sideways on, that she was probably looking at Legolas. Very odd. As she watched, Mireth turned as if looking for her, caught her eye, and with a grin beckoned her over.

‘Oh bugger. Don’t really want to meet Legolas. Actually maybe I do. Well, sort of, anyway.’

She nodded, stood and crossed the room.

As she reached them, the conversation was in full flow, since there was a pause between songs at the moment. Mireth, handing her a cup, was gesturing to Penny and talking to the rest who were looking at Penny intently now so that she suddenly felt very self-conscious. Mireth said her name and then went round the circle introducing everyone to her. The last of the three Mirkwood elves was named as Legolas. Penny barely had time to register it before Mireth was moving on and naming the others.

As the conversation started up again, Mireth having explained that Penny spoke no Sindarin or Westron, Penny snuck a look at him. Nothing special... but that is ‘nothing special’ compared to elves. He WAS stunning but then all elves are stunning. He was not any more stunning than the rest of them.

He had barely given her a second glance when he had been introduced, merely nodded, smiled and then turned to speak to the elf next to him. She had to restrain a giggle as she thought of all the Mary-Sues swooning and passing out right about now; either that or leaping on him to snog him to death. No, she had to sit down or she really would laugh out loud. As it was she couldn’t look up from her drink in case she caught his eye because it would just set her off into hysterics. She had this vision in her head of a blond elf staggering backwards as some girl attached herself to him, limpet- like, her legs wrapped round his waist, and eating his face off.

She screwed her eyes shut and tried to bite her lips without drawing too much attention to herself. She coughed, desperately trying to smother the laughter rising in her throat. As a song started up Penny touched Mireth on the arm and indicated a bench to one side. Mireth nodded and turned back to the chatter.

As she sat she felt someone sit beside her. Gandalf. “Well, you have met Legolas now. I hope you were not too unnerved by it.”

She didn’t think it would be politic to explain what HAD gone through her brain just now so she just shook her head.

“Not at all. Well, perhaps a little. I will just have to get used to it. There is little or nothing anyone can do about it all.”

Gandalf nodded and they fell silent for a moment.

Then Penny said, “Mithrandir? I know which is Boromir, and I now know which is Legolas. But, would you mind pointing Gimli out to me? Is he the one that Gloin speaks to quite often?”

Gandalf smiled. “No. That is Gloin’s younger brother. Gimli is the one standing next to Gloin, to his right.”

“Ah. I see him. Le hannon, Mithrandir.”

So now she knew.

It felt very odd to know what they all looked like. To see them in the flesh. She wondered if she would get to know any of them any better. Somehow she suspected not.

She was unsure how she would cope with getting to know them as it was but added to which, though she little knew it, Elrond and Gandalf had decided to keep her away from those she had named as much as it was possible to do so. Or, at least, to keep supervision over any contact. Gandalf was convinced Penny would not let anything slip but even he had to concede that the stress and pressure of being in the situation of conversing with these people she knew so much about may prove too much.

Better that contact was kept to a minimum with most people but much more so with some than others. For the time being at least.

Chapter 15 - “DO Balrogs Have Wings?”

So followed days of learning for Penny. At breakfast the next morning, sat by the hobbits once more and Mireth with her, it was made known that she was now learning Sindarin. At which point Frodo took it upon himself to start pointing out everything at the breakfast table and saying the Sindarin name for it.

Over the next few meals this was to establish itself as a ritual so that no matter who she found herself seated beside they would start pointing at each dish, or its individual constituents, and naming them for her. It helped quite considerably and she also learnt seat or chair, table, cup, plate, spoon, knife and tapestry. She felt quite shy but very pleased that everyone seemed to be taking such an interest in helping her. She was quite touched, to be honest.

That same morning after Halbarad had left, as she munched on an apple at breakfast, she looked about her. The hobbits were all sat to her left. Mireth was next to her and Gandalf opposite. Next to the hobbits was Boromir deep in conversation with Merry and Sam but with Pippin interrupting and talking over them quite often. She smiled.

It suddenly struck her that she and Boromir were the only humans in the place. As she watched he glanced up, caught her eye, and nodded a greeting to her. She nodded back, flushed a little and looked away hurriedly. What the hell was she blushing for? God, she could irritate herself sometimes! Just because she had resolved not to get to know him there was no need to act like an utter idiot every time she saw him.

Erestor came over, clearly on his way out, and said something to her. She looked at him blankly. Gandalf translated.

“You are to have your lesson as soon as you have finished eating.”

She smiled and nodded at Erestor who, thanking Gandalf, headed off. Mireth turned to her and, with hand-gestures, managed to convey that she would be in the garden waiting for her afterwards.

That morning’s lesson wasn’t so bad. She had remembered all of her words and letters and even managed to write them correctly. Erestor was clearly very pleased. She wondered how long this would last, though. Then, along with the next lot of letters and their words, she learnt how to say ‘this is..’ and ‘what is this?’: two phrases that she would find invaluable in the coming weeks. The half hour flew past and before long she was outside looking for Mireth.

The dress and undershift from yesterday had been shortened for her but while they were collecting them, Mireth sat Penny down, shoved a piece of material at her with a needle and thread and starting teaching her to sew.

The needles were made of bone and were very fine and delicate. Mireth, working on her own piece, showed Penny what to do and then Penny would try and copy the stitch. After a few times Mireth let her get on with it, indicating she should finish an entire row of stitches. Then she inspected the work. She clearly wasn’t that impressed.

She showed Penny her own work and laid the two side by side so Penny could see the difference. Penny sighed. Hopeless.

Mireth said something and smiled. She indicated for her to pick up the piece and keep trying. They stayed there all morning.

By the end of it Penny thought her eyes were swimming from staring at the close stitching but Mireth seemed pleased with her progress and even she had to admit her stitches were more even and little straighter. Still rubbish, though, but an improvement nonetheless.

It became clear over that day, and the next few days, that everyone in Imladris had jobs to do or particular skills they used for the benefit of the entire community. Mireth, for example, seemed to spend a lot of time in the gardens, in particular the kitchen gardens. Now this was something Penny could help with. She didn’t know much but she’d always enjoyed helping her uncle out with his garden when she’d been a kid. It being late autumn there was lots of harvesting to be done and sowing of winter vegetables. Penny got stuck in. It was simple enough for Mireth to show her what needed doing and then she could be left to it.

There were several others who worked in the large enclosed kitchen garden on a regular basis along with Mireth: mostly females but there were one or two males also. Penny had noted when she had gone round Imladris with Halbarad that there was no natural division of labour according to sex. In every place of work you would find both male and female elves, though generally there seemed to be more of one sex than another in particular fields. So there were more female gardeners and seamstresses, and more male blacksmiths and tanners, for example.

There was one male in particular that Mireth spent a lot of time talking to or else working silently side by side with. He was slight in build, but tall, dark and, of course, beautiful. Celebdor he was called and he seemed to be the one in charge there, since it was mainly he who directed most of what was to be done. His voice was low and gentle when he spoke and Penny found that he, as much as Mireth, would tell her what to do, or rather show her how.

Mireth and Celebdor between them told Penny the names of everything including the tools. She couldn’t remember them all but over the next few days things began to stick. She couldn’t string a sentence together but already she had one or two words. However, while it increased her confidence and hope, she knew she had a long way to go yet.

Quickly Penny fell into a routine: morning lesson with Erestor, sewing lessons with Mireth and then helping her in the garden after lunch. Every meal she would see Gandalf and the hobbits but the dwarves and Mirkwood elves kept themselves to themselves while Boromir usually ate with Elrond and Erestor.

Frodo had taken it upon himself to test Penny at every such opportunity on the Sindarin she knew so far. She was particularly grateful for this over breakfasts since Frodo would grab her book off her as soon as she sat down and test her on her letters and words. It meant they were always fresh in her mind for her lesson.

The evenings she would spend walking in the gardens or seated in the Hall of Fire. She was getting more used to things now, more... well, ‘at home’ wasn’t quite the phrase, but more settled. She had accepted, as much as she could, what had happened and where she was. It still freaked her out if she thought about it too much but it no longer terrified her to be seeing real elves or real hobbits in the flesh.

Occasionally Penny would find one or two of the hobbits outside in the garden of an evening. They were always most courteous and insisted she come and sit with them. She suspected they had taken to her as a fellow foreigner and a stranger here. She noticed that Gandalf always seemed to appear fairly quickly on such occasions if he wasn’t there already. Sneaky bugger was keeping an eye on her! Not that she blamed him.

On the second such occasion she found Pippin throwing her umpteen questions. Gandalf was translating. Where did she come from? How old was she? How come she didn’t speak Westron, because everybody speaks Westron, don’t they, I mean, everybody that is apart from elves because they mainly speak Sindarin, don’t they Maura, but everybody else does, so how come you don’t?

Penny couldn’t help but laugh. Typical Pippin.

Gandalf was pleased by her answers. She simply said she came from far away and she had no idea why her language wasn’t Westron.

“But you are right, Raz. It should be.”

Pippin grinned as Gandalf translated this bit. “Have you heard of Sûza?” he was asking.

Penny glanced at Gandalf, unsure how much she could say or not. He nodded so she nodded to Pippin who squealed with delight.

“Really! Have you heard of Tûks? Because if anyone’s heard of anyone from Sûza it would most likely be a Tûk, since we are the most adventurous kind of kuduk, you know.”

She nodded again, “Yes I have heard of Tûks.”

Pippin beamed.

Merry, coming to join them, said, “What is this? Heard of Tûks! What is the world coming to?”

Penny smiled as Gandalf indicated what was going on and then Pippin, making some retort, started a full-blown argument on the various merits of Tûks as opposed to Brandagambas.

“I have heard of Brandagambas too,” said Penny, in a vain attempt to try and keep the peace.

Merry smirked at Pippin, “Of course she has. Sensible woman.” Pippin, however, looked vaguely crestfallen at Penny’s news.

She could see more questions were forthcoming, though, and that Gandalf was already looking edgy, so she tried to change the subject.

“I have not heard much, though. Why don’t you tell me about Sûza and what it is like?”

The expression on Gandalf’s face was akin to ‘Good save!’ because the hobbits then spent the rest of the evening talking both to her and at her. When they started on family trees, however, Penny looked desperately at Gandalf and he, laughing, told them that she was tired and genealogy would have to wait for another day. “Le hannon,” she murmured to him in relief as she went past him and to her chambers.

Once or twice she met Boromir in the corridors or the garden. He seemed to be spending a lot of time with Gandalf or Elrond. He would always greet her politely and nod and she would do the same. Once she was standing in a corridor admiring a beautiful painting on the wall. Countless men on horses were striding out in formation, banners blowing in the wind and their armour glinting in the sunshine. The detail was exquisite. She wondered what it was depicting. Then she realised someone was standing beside her and she turned to see it was Boromir. He smiled and, pointing at the painting, said something about Elros and Numenor. She looked back at it. Now he said it she could see that the line of men and horses were heading towards the sea in the distance. Presumably this was the march of Elros as he led the Edain to Numenor. Wow. Her mind reeled a little.

Boromir was saying something to her but she had to shake her head, smiling apologetically, and he realised she didn’t understand him. He tried a little Sindarin on her but got nowhere with that either. Looking a little confused he muttered an apology and walked off.

The next time she saw him was the following day in the Hall of Fire. She was sat on a bench, enjoying the singing, when she noticed Boromir and Elrond looking at her. They were clearly talking about her. She scowled. What the hell was that all about? Elrond was saying something to him now and Boromir was nodding as if suddenly everything was clear.

A little later Gandalf came over to her. “Boromir wishes to apologise for yesterday afternoon. He did not realise you did not speak the language. He felt he may have seemed a little startled by your incomprehension. Elrond has explained you are from a distant land but are learning Sindarin during your visit here.”

She nodded. She wasn’t sure she felt comfortable being spoken about behind her back, especially not with members of the Fellowship and especially not members of the Fellowship who she would be very happy if they took absolutely no interest in her at all. Not start asking her bloody life history from Elrond.

Gandalf was looking at her closely. “I will not ask but it is clear there is something that makes you uncomfortable about Boromir. I will do what I can to make sure he does not get to know you too well. Would that help you?”

She nodded, looking at him gratefully. “Yes, Mithrandir, it would. And thank you also for not asking.”

He smiled, but he had guessed. Or guessed a little of what it might be. He sensed something about Boromir. He had not been happy with the Council’s decision, and he had made that clear, but Gandalf knew he would stick by it. Gandalf knew Boromir of old. As did Aragorn, though Boromir was but a child then. He was a warrior and man of Gondor through and through. It would cut him deep if Gondor fell and Gandalf sensed the despair and hopelessness that was already in him. Not like Boromir at all. Things were bad in the South, Gandalf knew, but till this moment he had not realised quite how bad.

Gandalf and Elrond had noted Penny was looking calmer and behaving more normally in the few days after the questioning.

“I think being able to tell her story and have it both understood and accepted did wonders for her, frankly,” Gandalf was saying one evening in Elrond’s study.

Elrond sipped his wine. “I am pleased she has made no attempt to befriend the kuduk, Gimli, Legolas or Boromir.”

Gandalf smiled knowingly. “Well, I did say to you that I didn’t think we had anything to fear in that regard. She has got to know the kuduk a little but she makes every effort to keep it to a minimum.” Elrond nodded and stayed silent for a while.

“She is doing well in her lessons,” Erestor chipped in. “I notice Maura is helping her at breakfasts.”

Elrond nodded. “Yes and Mireth also I believe. Surrounded by it she will pick it up quickly enough, I am sure. It is so much easier to learn a language when you hear it all the time.”

“She will find it difficult to remember things long term, though, Erestor. I feel I should warn you of that." Erestor looked at Gandalf quizzically. “She is used to writing everything down. Where she comes from they do not learn by rote. Now it is easy enough because there is not so much to remember, but it will get harder for her the more she has to retain.”

Erestor nodded. “Yes, well. She will soon be able to be taught to use quill or brush I think. Then, if she is neat enough, she can indeed write a vocabulary list. I would be most interested to learn what her language equivalents for the words I teach her are, so it would be helpful for us both.” Gandalf nodded, smiling, as Erestor continued. “What did you decide in the end, concerning her?”

“Well there is little we can do at the moment," Elrond replied. "Even once the Ring has left I do not see where she could go. Mithrandir was suggesting Lothlorien. Galadriel would certainly be interested in meeting her, I am sure.”

Erestor’s eyes were wide. “But it is far too dangerous a journey in such times.”

Gandalf nodded. “Of course, Erestor. It is unthinkable at the moment. After the war. After.”

They fell silent then, their thoughts turning over the possibility of what may face them all ‘after the war’. For it was by no means certain that they would win. Not at all. Not by a long bloody chalk.

There was a knock on the door. Elrond told whoever it was to come in. Penny’s head appeared.

“You wanted to see me?”

Elrond motioned her to come in and sit beside the fire in a chair placed next to Gandalf.

“Wine?” he indicated a terracotta stoppered jug to one side and lifted his cup with his other hand.

Penny nodded. “Le hannon, hir nín.”

Elrond exchanged a grin with Erestor. She was trying, at least, which was good.

She looked nervous so Elrond, as he handed her a cup, said, “We just wished to discuss a few things with you. You have had a few days here to settle in, to recover from the ordeal of the questioning..”

Penny’s gaze dropped suddenly to her lap as Gandalf translated.

“Ah, yes,” said Elrond, “I am sorry if I seemed harsh to you, my dear. But I hope you can understand our concern at the knowledge you showed.”

Penny waited as Gandalf relayed the sense of his apology and then nodded. “It is quite alright, hir nín, I can understand completely. I hope you understand why I said what I did, why I risked your anger?” She looked up at him. “I had to make you understand.”

Elrond nodded.

Gandalf now took over. “You know that we have decided you are to stay here for the time being and quite possibly till the War is over.” Penny nodded. “Lord Elrond has been told that you are learning to sew and helping with the gardens. We were surprised you did not know such skills already. We wished to know if there were any skills you had so that you can spend your time here doing something you love.”

Penny was speechless. Unbeknownst to them they had in fact landed her right in it by such a kind offer. How on earth was she going to explain that in the twenty-first century with its microwaves and consumerism, with its ‘throw-away’ culture and pre-prepared, off-the-hanger attitude, she had no skills whatsoever! Or none that would be of practical use here at any rate. She didn’t think being able to hang a spoon of the end of your nose counted as a skill. Or at least Elrond would not think so.

Erestor, Elrond and Gandalf exchanged a glance. Elrond said quietly, “Pen- ii?”

Penny continued to stare at her feet, feeling her cheeks reddening.

Elrond murmured, “I don’t believe it.”

“So you do not sew, nor do you know how to tend a garden?” Gandalf asked

“No. I am enjoying working in the garden though.”

Gandalf nodded. “Good. That is something. Can you cook?”

“I can boil an egg,” she said hopefully. “Umm.. pasta? Make a sandwich?” Gandalf just looked baffled. “No,” she sighed.

“Can you weave, or dye cloth or wool?”

She shook her head.

“Do you have any skills in healing? With herbs and their uses?”

“No.”

“Know anything of animals or how to raise and care for them?”

“Well, I had a cat once...” She trailed off as Gandalf shook his head. He was clearly talking about horses, chickens or sheep and suchlike. She was feeling hugely embarrassed by all this now.

“Make paper? Make baskets? Work with leather? Metal? Wood?” Gandalf thought it unlikely but you never knew. Many elleths were very skilled in such things. She simply shook her head to every one, getting pinker and pinker.

“Can you paint or draw?”

“Well, I was always good at it at school, but I’ve not done it for ages. I couldn’t do anything like the beautiful things that are painted on the walls here in Imladris. Not in a million years.”

Gandalf breathed a sigh of relief and translated for the elves who were fairly stunned by what they were learning. “It is a start, Pen-ii. It shows you have some artistic skill so perhaps that can be awoken once more and put to use.” He paused for a moment and then voiced the thoughts of both Elrond and Erestor when he asked, “How is it you do not have such skills where you come from, Pen-ii? Surely these are basic things for everyday life? Halbarad told us you were clearly unused to horses and had never even washed clothes before.”

“That’s not true. I have washed clothes. Of course I have. Just... not by hand, that’s all.” Gandalf looked confused and Penny sighed, unsure she should explain too much. “Things are very different where I come from. It is a least six thousand years from now and possibly a lot more than that.”

Gandalf translated this for Elrond and Erestor whose eyes widened at the thought that she was from a time near two Ages from their own.

“People do things for us. Machines do things for us. I can buy a meal ready made. I have no need to cook. I work to get money and buy everything I need.”

Gandalf nodded, “Ah, well what did you do for work?”

Penny blinked at him. There was no way on earth he was going to understand the concept of marketing. “Umm... ah, well. Err... I would... I would help people sell things.”

“So you would help in a market? On a stall?”

“Not exactly, no. Umm. Say you had something really nice to sell and you wanted people to know about it and buy it. I would find out from people what they would like and how they would like it presented to them so you could then tell the right people in the right way about your product so the most number of people would then buy whatever it was you were selling.”

Gandalf was lost. Completely. Given that he couldn’t understand her word for word, the general sense of what she had just said seemed so bizarre and convoluted that all he could do was turn to the other two, who were waiting for the translation, and shrug.

Penny laughed. “Oh it doesn’t matter. It was very boring and I hated it. Basically I dealt with pieces of paper. Writing.” She made a writing motion.

THAT they understood. She smiled.

“Thing is I don’t know how to use a quill and it was in a different language so that one skill is useless here.”

Gandalf nodded and there was soft laughter from Elrond and Erestor when he translated.

Elrond was speaking and Gandalf translated for him. They would see to it that she learnt a little of everything. That way she could discover that which she was best suited to.

“You know there is no division of labour between male and female amongst elves?” Gandalf asked. She nodded. “Then you will watch and learn everything. From how to deal with horses, to metal work, to tanning, to embroidery. Some you may not wish to learn in which case you simply say so. Others you may find you like and enjoy and have an aptitude for. The only way we will find out is by you trying.”

She nodded. She was quite looking forward to this and the other three could see she was pleased by this idea.

“Mithrandir, there is one thing I would ask.”

“What is it?”

“I realise I will need to learn more Sindarin first, probably, but...” She looked at them all, seated and watching her with kind eyes. “I would like to learn more of your history. I know some, but there are gaps in what we have where I come from. I have many questions.”

Gandalf smiled and as he translated for the other two they positively beamed. “An excellent idea, Pen-ii,” Elrond was saying. “I for one would enjoy learning what you already know and helping to provide answers to your questions.”

“What questions do you have?” Erestor was intrigued.

Penny laughed a little shyly then. “Too many. Do Balrogs have wings? What happened to Maglor? Are dragons Maia? Were orcs created from elves or men? Is Celeborn Sindarin or Teleri? How old is Legolas and who was his mother?”

As Gandalf translated this the three looked astonished and, at the last one, started laughing loudly. Penny looked at them, a little miffed.

“What’s so funny? People nearly come to blows over this kind of stuff, you know! I’m serious!”

She was on a roll now and kept going, Gandalf struggling to keep up with her and translate as she spoke with obvious enthusiasm.

“Look, you see the thing is we have quite a bit on the First Age, and a lot of detail about now, from Bilba finding the Ring and onwards. What we don’t have is much detail between the two.” She looked at Elrond now, “We know little about you and your brother, or about Gil-galad. We know only the barest details of Celebrimbor and the creation of the Rings, the attack on Eriador, the Witch-King’s assault on Arnor, the rise of Sauron in Dol Guldur. I would love to know more about all those things.”

The three were nodding now, more serious.

“Of course, Pen-ii. And if you only know The Silmarillion then you will have only the barest outline of the great tales of the First Age. That too we can go over in detail,” said Erestor.

Penny beamed. This was fantastic! For the first time she was pleased to be here. Really, REALLY pleased to be here.

“I have loads more you know! What happened to the Blue Istari? Who exactly WERE the Nazgul before they became Nazgul? Oh! Oh!” She practically bounced on her seat in excitement. “Queen Beruthial! We don’t know much about her except she had cats!”

Gandalf was laughing, “Stop! Stop, Pen-ii! One question at a time. Let us deal with the first one first. Balrogs. You want to know if they have wings, yes?”

Penny nodded. “And if they do, why don’t they fly?”

As Gandalf spoke her eyes widened and a smug grin spread across her face. She had always thought that was the case. Ah, it was SO gratifying to know she’d been right all along.

Le hannon - I thank thee.

Hir nín - my lord

Warning for all male readers: ‘feminine hygiene’ issues (i.e. concerning a woman’s monthly cycle) are dealt with in this chapter. Nothing graphic, I promise, but thought it only fair to warn you in advance.

Penny was getting anxious. It was the morning of the sixth day since Halbarad had left and she knew she had a situation on her hands.

She was feeling horrible. For the first time since her ‘arrival’ she was craving chocolate and she felt bloated, fat, and unreasonably bolshy. So much so that she had decided to keep her head down for the day because she knew that all it would take was one elf looking down their nose at her and she was likely to go off on one. Big time.

She knew what was coming. Tomorrow or the next day for definite.

She sighed. How on earth was she going to explain this and get some help? She was just thankful that she was more or less regular. She did not like to think about what might have happened otherwise. Suddenly ‘coming on’ in the woods with Halbarad, for example... NOT pleasant. It did not even bear thinking about!

She had worked out that she would need cloth. She vaguely remembered an expression she had always hated but at least now understood: ‘on the rag’. She was not sure what next, though. She had no underpants, nothing to keep cloth in place. She had considered using her PJs. She could sew up the rip and cut the legs off to make shorts. The thing was: they were baggy. No way they would keep anything stable for very long, if at all.

There was nothing else for it. She was just going to have to speak to Mireth about it. How, she had no idea, but she had no choice.

She struggled in her Sindarin lesson that morning because she was not really concentrating. Erestor clearly gave her a gentle ticking off at one point and she had to fight every instinct to not bite his head off in response. Bloody hormones!

She waited till after the sewing lesson with Mireth before trying to broach the subject. Eleniel was coming with them to eat but they had a little time before lunch so the three had gone to an inner courtyard where there was a fountain and benches. Penny was quiet and Mireth could see something was on her mind. She looked at her questioningly and said her name.

Penny looked at her. “Ah. Yes. Okay. Hoo boy, this is going to be interesting. Where to begin?”

She had learnt a phrase that she suspected was something akin to ‘help me’ or ‘assist me’ because Mireth or Celebdor would use it whenever they needed her to come and help them with something in the garden. So she said it.

Mireth and Eleniel nodded, smiled and then clearly asked her what she needed help with.

Penny sighed and went a little pink. She tried to indicate all three of them. “Us. Females. Err... what is the Sindarin for ‘woman’?” She looked at them and said, “Not edain. Us.” She indicated the three of them once more.

Mireth and Eleniel muttered something to each other. They suspected they understood but weren’t sure.

“Elleth?” Mireth asked.

“Well, not exactly. You ‘elleth’. Me?” She pointed to them and to herself as she spoke.

Now they seemed to be getting it. “Ahh,” said Eleniel. “Adaneth.” Then she indicated one hand as she said “adan” and then the other as she said “adaneth.”

Penny nodded and repeated “Adaneth. Good. Now we’re getting somewhere. Umm... ahh..”

She pointed at her stomach and then made downward sweeping motions with her hands towards her legs and the floor. She could see the two elves were utterly mystified. She sighed.

There were some flowerbeds in the corners of the courtyard. Penny now crouched down beside one and started poking her finger in the soil. She counted up to thirty as she made holes. She looked up to see if they were following. They were but clearly confused still. She then drew a line across the first seven holes she had made and then made the same downward motion with her hands from her stomach.

She could see the light dawn in Mireth’s face as she gasped, then turned and said something to Eleniel who clearly said the elvish equivalent of ‘Oh, I SEE!’.

“Of course, Pen-ii! Of course. We should have realised. We,” she indicated Eleniel and herself, “Don’t get them very often. Or rather, we can control it. I forgot that, of course, you humans have no control over such things and get them once a month. Well, we must provide you with some cloths to use.”

She held out her hand to Penny who was dusting the earth from her hands as she stood, very relieved to have made herself understood comparatively easily.

“Don’t worry, Pen-ii,” Eleniel was saying kindly. “You mustn’t be at all embarrassed. Perfectly natural. Is it now?”

She pointed to the floor as she said ‘now’ and Penny looked at her uncomprehendingly. She repeated the question and the motion.

Penny then guessed what she was asking her and shook her head. “No. But soon. Tomorrow maybe,” and she did an arcing motion with her hand to try and indicate ‘not now but after’. They guessed her meaning and nodded.

After lunch they took her to the communal sewing room once more. It was quiet for once so they were the only ones in there. Eleniel went into the store room and came out with a huge bolt of a linen type of material, undyed. She quickly cut a large piece from it and tore it into smaller sections. Then, as Mireth took the bolt of material back into the storeroom, Eleniel went to the huge chest of drawers and opened one of the umpteen little drawers in it. She pulled out a length of knotted material, like a belt.

Penny had been looking at the cloths. They seemed terribly big. Mireth was back and piling the cloths together neatly and, taking the belt Eleniel had handed to her, she placed that on top and handed the whole lot to Penny.

Penny took it but the bewilderment was clear on her face. Mireth and Eleniel exchanged a glance. Penny was holding out the belt.

“What is this for?”

She put down the pile on the central table and picked up one of the cloths. She said, “This seems very big.” She repeated ‘big’ and spread her arms wide and looked questioningly at them.

“How do I use this?” she was asking and then started folding the material in half then half again and again in an attempt to get it somewhere near the size of a sanitary towel. She succeeded only in making something that was about the size and thickness of a housebrick.

The elves laughed softly and stopped her. Penny watched in fascination as Mireth unfolded the cloth and refolded so it made a long, thick strip. Then she picked up the belt, wrapped it round her waist and tied it securely. Then she picked up the long strip and tucked one end over the belt from underneath so the folded material hung down in front of her with the end hanging over the belt. She then picked up the other end of the cloth and motioned that it went between the legs to be tucked under the belt at the back.

Penny understood but she was still fairly horrified. It was HUGE. Nor was she convinced that the belt would hold everything in place, though given how much of the folded material strip hung back over it... Perhaps she could make loops to thread the belt through? She sighed.

Well, she had her answer. She still would have the ‘interesting’ problem of what to do with them. She noticed that they had given her three pieces of cloth only. Three. Like her granny had always said about bed linen: ‘one on, one off and one in the wash’. She was, presumably, to wash and re-use them. Utterly vile. Yet she supposed this is what women had done for thousands of years, perhaps still did in large parts of the world in the twenty-first century. Like washable nappies. She was not looking forward to this, though.

She gathered it all up, said thank you to them both, muttered ‘garden’ at Mireth who nodded, smiling, and then she went to put it all in her room.

The two elves watched her go with slight bemusement on their faces. She clearly hadn’t known what to do with what they had given her, so then... what on earth did she use normally? They were utterly baffled and very intrigued.

That afternoon in the garden Penny was given a job of pruning back a large flowering shrub. Celebdor showed her what needed doing: take out the dead wood first, then cut back the live wood to within six inches or so from the ground. It was going to be hard work but Penny was grateful to have something to burn her energy off on.

At supper she ignored Boromir’s smiles in her direction when she happened to catch his eye. She knew he was just being polite but she did not need it and, given the filthy mood she was in, she definitely did not need it tonight. She also ignored Gandalf’s questioning glances at her scowls. She responded dutifully to Frodo and Mireth’s Sindarin vocabulary tips during the meal but all she really wanted to do was go to bed. She was feeling so achy and horrible that she thought she might go to sleep wearing that belt thing.

It was a good job she did and it worked quite well she had to admit. The cloth was cotton-like and both absorbent and comfortable. She felt a little self-conscious with such a clunking great thing on underneath her skirts but with the undershift as well as well as her dress it wasn’t visible to others for which she was SO relieved.

Mireth had given her as a present a little sewing pouch with threads, a needle, a thimble and a small knife in it. Penny had been very touched and said ‘le hannon’ so often Mireth had gone pink and flapped her hands at Penny as if to say ‘really, it’s nothing’.

Penny now used the little knife to cut material from her destroyed PJ trousers. She made ‘liners’ in effect: pieces of material folded a few times that she could ‘line’ the larger strip she was wearing on the belt with. That way, at least for the first few days, the large cloth strips would last, she hoped, a whole day with her only needing to change the liners. Otherwise she would be facing the prospect of using still wet washed cloths since they would take at least a day to dry. That was not a prospect she relished.

She felt dreadful though. Ibuprofen or paracetamol were not available here, of course, but she had bad cramps and felt thoroughly irritated that she didn’t have anything like them available to her. Bugger! She didn’t feel up to breakfast. Nor was she going to her Sindarin lesson. No bloody way! Stuff it. One day wouldn’t make a difference. She wasn’t at school for goodness sake! She dozed instead.

A knock on her door woke her. Her name being called.

Erestor.

Damn and blast! She got up and opened the door.

“What!”

He seemed a little startled at her abruptness and said something that included the word ‘Sindarin’ and was clearly a question. No doubt asking where the bloody hell she’d got to.

She growled, “I’m not well. Okay? Not today.” She rubbed her stomach and went “Ow” just for good measure.

Suddenly Erestor looked concerned. Penny groaned as she heard him speaking more gently and mentioning something about Elrond and Mithrandir. Why couldn’t he just LEAVE it? She knew where this was heading and she really didn’t want him knowing the reason for all this, let alone him involving anyone else. God! MEN! Bloody typical!

“No, Erestor! Hir nin... umm... not Elrond or Mithrandir.” She shook her head, then indicated her tongue and shook her head again. “Don’t say anything, Erestor.” She wagged her finger at him.

He understood what she was saying but had no idea why. “Pen-ii if you are ill, then let us tend to you. Lord Elrond would be most distressed to know you are unwell and refusing help. He would rightly be angry with me if I did not tell him you were unwell. I have to tell him, Pen-ii.” He could see she was getting angry. What on earth was the matter?

“Oh for pity’s sake, Erestor, just drop it, will you!” She was flushing with embarrassment now. “Just.. just... fetch Mireth. Mireth or Eleniel.”

Erestor was looking at her in confusion.

She sighed in frustration, “How complicated is it, Erestor? Go and get Mireth or Eleniel! Do NOT say anything to Mithrandir or Elrond or I will wring your bloody neck!”

She shook her head firmly, scowling at him, as she said ‘Mithrandir and Elrond’. She then nodded as she said ‘Mireth or Eleniel’.

Erestor finally got it. Or in part, at least. He nodded, murmuring ‘Mireth’ and ‘Eleniel’, and went off to find one of the two elleths while Penny slammed the door on him, fuming in annoyance and acute embarrassment.

Mireth or Eleniel would immediately understand what all this was about. She cursed herself for not going downstairs for breakfast now and trying to find one of them to tell them. They could have made some excuse for her with Erestor. Stupid of her. Really stupid.

She should not have got so narked with him just now either. It was not his fault. Now he would no doubt be told the REAL reason for her not feeling up to his lesson and she would never be able to look him in the face again. Girls knowing about it was one thing. Males and, in particular, beautiful, austere male elves who hardly knew her from a bar of soap, was something else entirely.

Penny groaned. What a nightmare this was turning out to be.

There was soon another knock on her door. It was Mireth and, much to Penny’s astonishment, she was giggling her head off.

“What’s so funny?”

There followed a long explanation, little of which Penny understood, but the name Erestor was mentioned several times and, given the hand gestures Mireth was making of placing her hands on her cheeks or fanning herself, Penny guessed that Erestor had indeed been told what was going on and had been hugely embarrassed by it all. Mireth seemed to find the idea of Erestor going pink to the ears hilarious. Penny had to agree it was an amusing thought but she felt nearly as embarrassed as she suspected Erestor now did.

She felt very unwell though. Mireth saw it in her eyes as soon as she had recovered from her laughter at Erestor’s expense. It was obvious Penny was in some discomfort. She led her down to the kitchens, the first time Penny had been inside them though she knew where they were.

Penny gasped in astonishment at the huge ovens she saw there, the three large fireplaces with poles long enough to roast a whole deer on them as well as the hooks and contraptions to hang every assortment of pot you could imagine above the flames. The walls were lined with shelves filled with saucepans, pots, bowls and jars. Row upon row of jars, indeed: large and small, terracotta, earthenware and glass. Every one had something written on it in Tengwar.

She noted that the chefs, busy chopping and preparing pots of things to go on the fires since it was only an hour or two before lunch, were all males. They nodded and greeted them pleasantly enough as they entered but did not question Mireth at all. Clearly this was perfectly normal for someone to wander in and help themselves to whatever they needed.

Penny, who knew almost the entire alphabet now, amused herself as Mireth busied herself putting a pot of water over one of the fires by trying to spell out the words written on the pots. Mireth looked up, smiled and came over to her. Penny held out a pot to her and slowly, with difficulty, spelt out the word. Mireth beamed and nodded. Penny felt very pleased with herself. She had no idea what the word meant but she could read. Some of them she could not manage since there were letters she could not remember the sounds for, or had yet to learn, or else she could not make out the writing. But it was a start.

Mireth was calling her over. She pointed to a pot, small and with a blue glaze up to half way round it. There were flowers painted in white round its rim. Mireth read out the label to Penny, tracing the letters with her finger as she did so. Penny nodded.

Penny then watched as Mireth fetched a mug from the many in a cupboard nearby, and then, the water being hot, she picked up a cloth that hung on a hook beside the fireplace she had used, folded it twice and then placed it round the handle of the pot to take it from the fire.

She placed the pot on the large central table next to the mug. Then she went to a drawer and took out a small wooden spoon. She then, making sure Penny was watching her, took half a spoonful of some pale brown powder from the blue pot and put it into the mug. She then stuck the spoon into the water and added just enough water so she could mix a paste with the powder. Then she indicated for Penny to pour more water into the mug while she stirred all the while, mixing the powder thoroughly. She placed the pot back on a shelf and then moved to another pot and again indicated it to Penny and read out the label. She took out the stopper and, using a clean spoon, added two spoons of what was clearly honey to the hot liquid in the mug. Then she offered the mug to Penny, pointing to Penny’s stomach as she did so and indicating a stool for Penny to sit on.

Penny thanked her and sniffed at the mug. All she could smell was the honey. She wondered what this was for. Was it for periods in particular or a general pain killer?

She took a sip. Mireth had put two spoons of honey in but it didn’t completely mask the taste of whatever that powder was. It was very bitter. Penny coughed and spluttered. Mireth grinned but made gestures clearly insisting she drink it down. Penny tried again and nearly gagged. God, it was foul. But then she was really feeling pretty unpleasant, so if this worked...

She pinched her nose and swallowed it as fast as she could, fighting the retching in her throat.

Mireth nodded her approval. She held out her hand for the mug. Then she beckoned Penny over to the far side of the room where, beside a door that clearly led out to the gardens of Imladris and, Penny suspected, was near the kitchen gardens, there was something that was obviously a sink. Of sorts.

It was a huge basin attached to the wall with a pipe leading from a hole in the bottom that ran out through the wall and outside. There were, of course, no taps. Mireth indicated a large bucket underneath it with a ladle in it.

Penny picked it up as Mireth directed her to. It was very heavy and she struggled a little but eventually managed to get it onto the top of the cupboard right next to the sink. At Mireth’s insistence she ladled cold water into the pot of water they had heated just now and then Penny poured that into the sink as Mireth rinsed the two spoons and the mug under the water’s flow. Then they dried them and put them back in their places.

By the time they left the kitchens Penny could feel it working whatever it was. The pain was easing and she felt far more herself again.

Mireth asked her a question which she didn’t understand but Mireth repeated it and gently placed her hand on Penny’s stomach as she did so looking at her inquiringly.

Penny nodded and smiled. She made a horizontal motion with her hand as she said, “All gone. Le hannon.” Mireth beamed.

As Mireth headed off to the sewing room and Penny returned to her chambers, she was suddenly very grateful that Mireth had shown her how to organise a bath.

It had been the morning after the questioning and, thankfully, Mireth had quickly understood Penny’s hand gestures. Mireth had pointed at herself and had also made washing motions so it was clear she would have a bath as well. So, after their afternoon gardening and with a couple of hours till the evening meal, Mireth had taken Penny into one of the rooms near the kitchens.

It was clearly a water room of some description: that was all Penny could think to call it. There was a pump against one wall with a grate below it to catch any water spilt. All along one wall were buckets and tubs of various sizes. To one side was a large fireplace that spanned the entire wall and was deep enough and wide enough to fit two huge cauldrons over the fire.

Mireth had set the fire while indicating Penny should start filling the cauldrons with buckets of water. It was hard work. Penny was huffing and sweating very quickly.

Mireth had told Eleniel they would be bathing and she had come to help given that there would be enough hot water in both cauldrons for three baths so she could have one also. As they left the water to heat up they had started getting things ready. Two would carry a tub and the other two buckets of cold water behind them and they did this three times to each of their rooms.

Once the water was steaming hot in the cauldrons (which took quite a while to heat up) they had filled two buckets each at a time and carried them through the corridors and up the stairs to their rooms. They passed ‘en route’ several elves who, after hurried questioning of the two elleths, came to help them. It was a huge rigmarole, basically. At long last they had added five buckets of steaming hot water to each of the tubs and that seemed to be sufficient.

What this all meant was that, two days later, Penny knew where to get water and buckets from and she was grateful since she would be doing necessary washing in her chambers every day, if not more than once a day, for the following week. Mireth had also fetched a clothes airer for her to use in her chambers for which Penny was truly thankful.

She quickly managed to get the hang of it all over the next day or two and it was not as bad as she had feared. The belt worked quite well and kept everything secure while the liners she had made did their job brilliantly. She washed them out in a bucket of water she would carry to her room and then, once done and the material hanging on the airer, she would carry the bucket back down again and tip the water away where Mireth had shown her to.

At lunch later that day Mireth said something to Gandalf who was seated with them both. He turned to Penny.

“Mireth wanted you to know that the powder she showed you this morning is for all pain. Any pain you may have. But you should take it only twice a day maximum, say in the morning and again in the evening, if you need to. Now you know how to prepare it you can do it yourself any time you need to.”

Penny nodded and thanked both Gandalf for translating and Mireth for showing her something very useful indeed.

“What is the powder, Mithrandir? What plant is it?”

Mithrandir told her its name – the same as that written on the pot – and explained it came from a tree: its bark, ground up. He made grinding motions in his hand. She nodded.

It was only later that it occurred to her that it could possibly be aspirin. Or something very similar, at least.

‘Every day I am learning something new it would seem’, she said to herself. She was slowly finding her feet.

My apologies for the subject matter (and the lack of Fellowship sightings) in this chapter, and I do hope no-one was too put off by it, but I would remind everyone (not that you need reminding, I am sure grin) that the challenge this story was written as a response to demanded to know what REALISTIC problems the ‘girl falls into ME’ would face. And this, ladies, is one that we would all have to face sooner or later. Inescapable. Just like the latrine issue. Just as inevitable and just as potentially problematic.

Though why I am apologising for this after inflicting the awfulness of the Latrine of Dooooom on you, I have no idea/evil manic laughter/

adan - man (mortal human male); edain is the plural form

adaneth - woman (mortal human female)

Hir nin - my lord

Chapter 17 - “Beauties and Nincompoops”

The following day Penny was unsure if she should say anything to Erestor or not in her lesson. She felt very bad that she had been quite so arsey with him, and very embarrassed that she had not handled things better and saved him finding out what was going on.

The lesson was a little longer that day since Erestor was finally allowing her to learn to use a quill. It was hard going and she got cramp in her hand fairly quickly because of the angle she had to hold the nib against the page to get any kind of decent, controllable mark with the ink. Even so, given that she already knew how to write, it was not as difficult as it might have been. Her efforts were wobbly but nearly legible.

Erestor seemed pleased enough with her efforts. However, Penny got the impression that he was thinking she’d done passably well ‘for a mortal’ and that he would have expected far better from an elf.

She now had the alphabet and was moving on to the first lesson in her book: a continuation of what Erestor had already taught her in that it introduced new vocabulary via ‘this is’ and ‘what is this?’.

Penny discovered that Erestor was an excellent artist. He quickly produced little line drawings on the blackboard to represent each word in the chapter. Penny grinned. It made Erestor seem softer somehow. Not that he was that stiff and cold with her but a little austere perhaps. He clearly enjoyed it though and looked quite smug when Penny showed she had immediately understood what he had drawn.

When the lesson had finished he presented her with a quill, a pot of ink, and some pieces of paper: thick, rough and a pale brown colour. Looking through the three sheets she saw that he had written each letter of the alphabet down the left hand sides with an inch and a half gap or more between each one. He indicated he wanted them filled out with her practising each letter in the gaps he had left.

She gasped. “All this by tomorrow?”

Erestor’s brow furrowed.

She took the chalk, drew a sun on the board and pointed to the floor.

“Today.”

At first he did not understand what she had drawn. When she added a tree, a cloud and then pointed upwards making a huge circle with her hand Erestor finally nodded, but cautiously. She then drew a moon, another sun and then a line between the two. She circled the first sun and the moon.

“Today,” she said pointing at the floor again.

Then she indicated the second sun. “Tomorrow,” and she made a forward arcing motion with her hand as if to indicate ‘after’.

Erestor understood. He said the Sindarin for ‘today’ and ‘tomorrow’ pointing to her very basic drawings as he did so. For good measure he gestured his thumb backwards over his shoulder and said ‘yesterday’.

Penny nodded and repeated the words. She realised she would not remember everything everyone told her but even if she only remembered some of it that would be better than nothing. She then said the Sindarin for ‘tomorrow’ in a questioning tone and indicated the pieces of paper.

He took one page from her and held it up, tracing his finger down the entire page as he said, “Tomorrow. All this for tomorrow’s lesson, Pen- ii.”

She nodded. Not so bad. Good. She smiled. And Erestor returned her smile, seeing she had understood him.

As she turned the door handle and opened the door, clutching her book, paper, quill and stoppered pot of ink she turned.

“Erestor?”

He looked up, an eyebrow raised, as he went through a pile of paperwork on one side of the room.

“About yesterday, Erestor. Goheno nin.” She tried to remember the word he had just told her for ‘yesterday’ and then said it.

He suddenly looked a little pink and unable to look her in the eye. He muttered something at her and nodded. Penny was fairly sure she’d heard him say ‘goheno nin’ back to her. Poor bugger. She nodded, smiled and left the room.

“Ah! Pen-ii!”

She turned to see Gandalf bearing down on her, beaming at her. “Aiya, Mithrandir.”

His beam widened. He turned to introduce her to a male elf walking beside him. The elf bowed. Penny recognised him. She had seen him at the stables when Halbarad had shown her around.

“You are to start learning to ride, Pen-ii.”

Horror gripped her. Apart from the fact that she didn’t WANT to learn to ride, she was fairly certain that the belt contraption would NOT stand up to the jiggling and bouncing involved in such an activity.

“Err... Mithrandir... Not sure this is such a good idea. Do I have to? Really, I could... I could learn about horses without getting on one, couldn’t I? It was bad enough with Halbarad but I didn’t really have a choice. Being on one all by myself and in charge of it... I couldn’t. I’ll fall off. I’ll break my neck. It’ll bite me. Or something.”

Gandalf laughed. “The elves know horses well and would not let anything happen to you. But if you are unsure I will ask that you work at the stables for a little while to get used to the animals before you learn to ride. How would that be?”

She nodded, grateful to have an excuse to wait for a week before beginning.

“Very well. Every day, once you have finished with Erestor, you are to make your way to the stables. They will teach you. Then after lunch today you are to learn your first skill: weaving. Mireth will show you where.”

Penny nodded, feeling a little overwhelmed by all this. It WAS like being back at school. The elf was looking at her, clearly waiting for her to follow him. She waved her book and paper at them.

“I need to take these to my room first.”

“Very good. Then Lindir will meet you at the stables then.”

Penny nodded but did not move. Lindir had turned to leave, nodding his head slightly to Penny before he did so. Gandalf looked at Penny curiously.

“You have heard of him?”

“I think so. But I can’t remember where.” Gandalf nodded, his eyes sparkling as he smiled. “I think he was just an elf of Imladris that the kuduk met.”

“Ah. So a minor figure in your stories.”

“Well, yes. But a name I know nonetheless.”

She shook her head. Still felt odd all of this. She turned to go.

“Oh, Pen-ii?”

She turned back.

“Lord Elrond wanted me to tell you if there was anything in particular you wanted to learn, just to ask. You are free to wander where you wish, to look at what you wish and study those at work round Imladris. Everyone here knows of you and that you may well be studying various skills here so you will made welcome wherever you find yourself.”

She smiled. “Tell him ‘le hannon’. I am very grateful.”

Once she was at the stables she found there was little for her to do at first. Lindir simply did what he needed to anyway while she watched. It mainly involved brushing down the horses, mucking out, giving fresh water, and leading various horses out to the paddocks just outside the walls or bringing others in.

Lindir was very kind with her, smiling often, and pointing out the names of things and getting her to repeat them. Her ignorance of Sindarin clearly went ahead of her.

He showed her how to brush down a horse and got her to try on a chestnut mare.

She was not convinced she was doing it correctly at first and was quite nervous about even touching a horse.

Lindir kept her working on the horse’s flank and all the while he was murmuring in the horse’s ear, reassuring her.

‘That’s right, Pen. Freak out the horse, why don’t you?’ she thought

He watched her and nodded, smiling so she was obviously doing it right. She ended up brushing the entire animal. She was sweating slightly, too, at the end of it. God, she was unfit but this kind of stuff did not feel like exercise and was definitely more interesting than aerobics or jogging, that was for bloody sure.

He showed her the tack room. Even though the elves did not use saddles or bridles they kept a few for guests to use. Added to which there were those of the guests’ own horses to be housed. Penny marvelled at them since many were covered with decorations and designs, showing some stunning craftsmanship.

She scanned them all vaguely wondering which one was Boromir’s for no particular reason. She was surprised not to see any indication of Gondor that she could tell on any of the saddles. All seemed to be styled similarly and though she could not know if the Gondorian style of decoration was different from that of the elves she imagined it would be.

That was a point. Boromir was mainly dressed in new tunics whenever she saw him. Or what looked like new tunics, and of the same style as Elrond, Erestor or Glorfindel might wear. Perhaps there was no difference, after all, between Gondorian and elvish styles.

Lindir was watching her staring at the saddles, lost in her own thoughts and he called her name gently.

She turned with a start and smiled.

“Which of these is Boromir’s?”

She asked it as inconsequentially as she could. An innocent enough question, surely. Lindir looked utterly baffled by it though.

She pointed at the saddles. “These? Boromir?”

Lindir just shook his head. His negative response was clear enough. Boromir’s saddle wasn’t there. Penny was confused.

A bell rang. Lunch. Lindir said something and beckoned to her. He was going to walk her to the halls it would seem.

Penny couldn’t help but smile to herself. A beautiful, dark-haired male walking her to lunch. She had to suppress what she suspected would have been an obvious ‘shit-eating grin’ at the thought. Then she remembered when Glorfindel had kissed her hand. ‘Stick THAT in your pipe and smoke it, Mary-Sue!’ She giggled.

Lindir’s not so subtle glance in her direction as she tried to smother her laughter brought her back to earth, though. She was an ignorant, foreign mortal. More to the point she was a blooming bizarre, ignorant, foreign mortal to them. Just to rub salt into the wound she was fairly sure she was generally considered a none-too attractive, bizarre, ignorant, foreign mortal. Especially when compared to any elleth.

So much for all those ‘here let me just leap into bed with you, Oh Gorgeous Elf-hunk of My Dreams’ fics, then! If she did not think it would earn her another ‘are you mad?’ glance from Lindir she would have laughed hollowly. Very hollowly indeed.

Lunch was soup. Which was safe enough.

Lindir led her to join him and the elves he knew well so she was on the other side of the room from the hobbits and Gandalf for once but Pippin and Merry saw her and waved. She smiled as they said something to Frodo who then turned and grinned at her, raising his hand. Lindir was gently saying ‘sit’ and she did.

Thus far at mealtimes, or indeed at any other time when she had encountered more than one male elf at a time, she had always had the ‘Balancing Out’ effect: either men, hobbits or dwarves cancelling out the ‘insansely beautiful’ factor or else elleths, while just as stunning, at least cancelling out the ‘gorgeous male’ factor. So to find herself suddenly surrounded entirely by male elves as she sat and took stock of those around her was just a little difficult to cope with.

In fact it was utterly overwhelming and she found it hard to know where to look.

To one side, a few elves down from them, she recognised the elf she and Halbarad had met outside Imladris. He caught her eye and smiled. She nodded. Celebdor was opposite her, which at least was a familiar face. He grinned and served her some soup and cut her some bread. On the other side of her she could see the three Mirkwood elves. Legolas was on Celebdor’s side of the table and he, and the others, murmured a greeting to her. She was fairly impressed they remembered her name, too, since she had only met them the once. She smiled and returned their ‘aiya’ as politely as she could.

Hoo boy.

She was not sure she would ever get used to how amazingly beautiful elves were. It was not like a ‘drool dribbling out of the side of your mouth as your chin hits the floor’ kind of beautiful. Well, okay, it was, but it was not JUST that nor was that the first thing that struck you. There was a LOT more to it than that.

It was the beauty of a bright summer’s day and birdsong and a child’s laugh all rolled into one. It was the best moment you had ever had. It was the light filtering through a leaf or the glimmer of a diamond in candlelight. It was the smell of a rose or the sea or fresh cut grass in springtime. It was... it was... well, it was like nothing on earth.

Penny concentrated very hard on her soup and left as soon as she could with a murmured ‘le hannon’ to Lindir for looking after her so well.

She hoped she wouldn’t have to experience THAT too often, or at least that she would eventually get used to it. Though... she couldn’t imagine you ever would get used to it. She wondered if Aragorn had got used to it, given he had more or less grown up with it. She decided to ask him when he came back. If he would not find it a rude question. Given he was betrothed to an elf it might be...

That was a point. How come she had not been introduced to Arwen yet? She had seen her around. Now she really did put the others to shame. Knocked all those beautiful elves into a cocked hat. Which really was saying something. And she had chosen a mortal. Wow.

Penny was wandering out of the door and about to start up the steps, mulling over how attractive or not Aragorn was and what Arwen might see in him, when she felt a hand on her arm and someone say her name. She turned.

“Mireth! Aiya!”

The elleth beamed. Mireth was on her way in to the hall to eat so she spoke, with hand gestures, and Penny understood that they would meet in the garden by the fountain.

Presumably it would then be weaving time. Fun, fun, fun!

‘No,’ Penny thought to herself as she climbed the steps, ‘I will not show my ignorance. Besides, they are looking after me: feeding me and clothing me. The least I can do is help out a bit and make myself useful. If I can learn a skill or two I won’t feel quite so much like a spare part who’s under everyone’s feet all the bloody time.’ Even if weaving did sound as dull as ditchwater.

As she turned down a corridor there was the sound of running from behind her. Running and giggling.

Two small figures rushed past her. There was a shout of “Raz! Kali! Ai, Elbereth!”

Penny grinned and turned to see Frodo shaking his head in exasperation but with a smile on his face. Sam was beside him clearly trying not to laugh. The two saw her, came to join her and the three then walked to the gardens together. Penny wondered how long it would take for Gandalf to turn up.

Frodo was talking. He was clearly saying something about Sam because he was gesturing to him and Sam was beaming, and something else about ‘garden’. Was he telling her Sam was a gardener? Was Sam going to help out in the garden?

Frodo could see she hadn’t understood.

“With you. And Mireth. And Celebdor. In the garden. Poor Ban just can’t sit still knowing there is work to be done out there and he and Celebdor are already as thick as thieves and swopping tricks.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far, Mister Maura.”

“I would. You two barely stopped talking all the way through supper last night. And afterwards. I dread to think what you’ll be like once you start working together.”

Frodo’s smile was affectionate, though. Sam was clearly delighted at the idea of getting his hands stuck in soil again.

“Aiya, Pen-ii.” /I am sure you already know Ban is quite the gardener, do you not/

Penny grinned. Yup. As sure as eggs is eggs: she was talking to the hobbits and now Gandalf had suddenly appeared.

“Yes, Mithrandir. He will become famous for it.” She stopped, suddenly, realising what she had said.

/Careful, Pen-ii. No harm done, but you need to be more cautious nonetheless. Even with me./ Gandalf said silently to her.

She nodded and felt tears prick her eyes suddenly. “It’s just... Well, if truth be told, Gandalf, it’s because it’s you. I don’t think I would say such a thing to anyone except you.”

And it was true. He was the only one who could truly communicate with her, as well as the fact that he was... well... he was GANDALF, for goodness sake!

Gandalf nodded. /I understand Pen-ii. I just don’t want you to become used to saying such things and then let something slip that it would be better I did not know./

“Yes, Mithrandir. Goheno nin.”

Gandalf smiled. “Maura was saying that Ban is to join you in helping the gardens. He has been getting itchy fingers. Now Maura is definitely on the mend he has been persuaded that he can go off and enjoy himself now.”

Penny couldn’t help but grin. “They are very close, I know. It will help...” She stopped herself.

Gandalf looked at her. /For that reason Ban was chosen. I am glad it was the right choice, though I never doubted it for a moment./

They were coming out of the halls and down a path to the largest glade to have a fountain in it. Penny was delighted to see Bilbo seated on a bench, Pippin and Merry chatting busily to him already. She had not met Bilbo yet since he rarely joined them at mealtimes.

As she neared them with Mithrandir Bilbo stood and bowed.

“Gandalf. Lady Pen-ii, I am delighted to meet you properly at last. Maura has told me a little of you. He is helping you with Sindarin I understand?”

Penny bowed a little, having guessed something of what Bilbo had said.

“Bilba Labingi, it is an honour.”

Bilbo smiled as Mithrandir translated and then sat down once more indicating for Mithrandir and Penny to join him. Frodo had a book with him but Bilbo quickly fell into conversation with him. Sam, Pippin and Merry were now off nearby chatting and laughing.

Penny turned to Gandalf. “Is there no class distinction between Raz and Kali and Ban? Ban is Maura’s servant, isn’t he? Or have things changed since they journeyed together?”

“There is some distinction. Kali and Raz are heirs to important positions in Sûza, as I am sure you do not need me to tell you. The Tûks, Brandagambas and Labingis are all important families there. Ban is different. But they are all friends and have known each other all their lives. It is true their journey here made them closer still and broke down the few barriers there may have been. Do not let them deceive you, though, Ban is a simple kuduk and happy enough with simple things. Nor is there anything wrong with that. It is for that very reason I love him, as do his fellow companions.”

Penny nodded. Sam was certainly the more reserved of the three youngest hobbits. As much from his nature as his position she suspected.

Bilbo and Frodo had decided to go for a little stroll and, as she watched them, Penny murmured, “I can’t believe I’ve just met him.”

“Who? Bilba?”

She nodded. “He is very important to the story, as you well know. His journey to Erebor and finding the Ring is one whole book in itself. It is his story that we have: his version of the whole story from then onwards and through the War, that Maura continues and then Kali, I seem to remember. Kali or Raz but I think it’s Kali, though it could be both. It becomes part of kuduk folklore and is handed down over the years till eventually it comes to us. To my time.”

Gandalf looked both amused and astonished by this. “Bilba’s account of things! Dear me!”

Penny laughed, “Well, yes. You do say his is not the most accurate portrayal of events somewhere. But Maura corrects quite a bit I think. As does Kali.”

Gandalf muttered, “I should think so too!”

“I would like to hear your side of it all, Mithrandir. Your meeting with Thorin and how difficult it was to persuade him to take Bilba and what a nincompoop the dwarves thought him.”

Gandalf, understanding the meaning asked, “‘Nincompoop’? That is a word?”

Penny nodded.

“Hmm. I think I like it. ‘Nincompoop’ – it has a nice ring to it. ‘Nin- com-POOP’. Ah! Very satisfying.”

A ball whizzed past them, landing in a nearby rosebush.

“Razanur Tûk, you ‘nincompoop’! Have more care where you are throwing things!” Gandalf boomed at him.

There was a brief silence and then, in the distance, a small voice said, sounding slightly confused, “‘Nincompoop’, Gandalf?”

“Yes, ‘nincompoop’. Describes you perfectly, Raz.”

Penny started giggling uncontrollably.

She was still giggling when Mireth arrived. Gandalf, his eyebrows waggling with amusement, bade them farewell and went off to explain to Pippin exactly what a ‘nincompoop’ was and why he was one.

Weaving was not nearly as bad as she had feared. She was not any good at it but she tried.

Mireth showed her the huge looms on which cloth was made. All very impressive. Then she showed her, nearby, a massive barn filled with huge vats of dye and cloths, wools and threads drying from ropes strung across the space.

Penny was given a frame loom. It was a rectangle with nails or pins across the top and bottom edges. She was shown how to thread it up so creating the ‘weft’ and then she was shown how to weave.

Mireth indicated bags nearby filled with strips of material, some near rags. Penny looked puzzled. Mireth pointed at her skirts and said two words, one of them ‘dress’. Old clothes. Cut into pieces. This was what she would use first of all and only then progress onto other things.

The weaving was done by hand, no machinery to lift up alternate threads, and back-breaking. The frame she had been given wasn’t too large compared to others. It leant against one wall and was about four foot by three. She had a stool to sit on but to start off with she had to sit on the floor as she worked since it was so low down. Several other elleths were working next to her. First of all she watched them work, then they offered her to try on theirs. She noticed that with every one they undid all her work when they thought she wasn’t looking. At least they tried to be discrete and made encouraging noises at her.

Then it was her turn. She had a bag of rags, a thing a bit like a comb to push down the weft once she had threaded it in and out of the warp, and a long, flat stick that was threaded under and over the warp and could be turned on its side (so raising all the threads running over it) and making at least going one way across the loom a lot quicker.

It became fairly clear that she was pulling everything too tight. Rather than leave it like that she pulled it all out and started again. And again.

She could feel her back aching so she had to stop in the end having achieved only a few inches in thickness of woven rags. The elleths had been watching her and been impressed by her conscientiousness and nodded their approval when she had pulled the ribbons of cloth out and started anew each time.

Mireth made it clear that this was now designated her loom. No one else would touch it. So she could come back whenever she wanted, if she wanted, and continue in her own time. She nodded. Fair enough. Even if she never did it again she would finish this one at least.

Dusk was falling as they made their way back to the halls. Mireth was saying something about horses and Lindir. Penny was not sure what, though, so she made brushing motions and said ‘horse’ then pointed at her eye and said ‘Lindir’ to indicate he had been watching her and teaching her. Mireth nodded.

“Celebdor and Lindir are friends,” said Mireth.

Penny nodded since ‘mellon’ was a word she did not need to be taught. She had realised that over lunch as the two had chatted amiably over the top of her head.

“Me.” Penny pointed at herself. “At lunch.” She made eating motions and then said ‘today’. She then made a horizontal circular motion with her finger as she said, “Ellon.” She pointed next to herself as she said, “Lindir.” She pointed opposite in front of herself, “Celebdor.” Then, pointing at every other ‘seat’ beside her, “Ellon, ellon, ellon. Me?” She pointed to herself again and then put her hands to her cheeks, shook her head and looked down to indicate being utterly overwhelmed by the maleness of it all.

Mireth roared with laughter. “Ah! Poor Pen-ii!”

Penny excused herself to go and do some ‘quill practice’ for Erestor’s lesson tomorrow. She lit two lanterns from the torches in the hallway outside her room and sat at the small table in her room.

She tried to keep it all as neat as possible: straight lines and small letters even if it meant they were less legible that they might be. Ink splots didn’t help either. Erestor was not going to be impressed. Still, she pressed on.

God, it was like being four all over again! Row upon row of letter forming. Bloody ridiculous! She was twenty-three for God’s sake! Twenty- three, with a job, a flat, and a boyfriend! ...

...Okay, she had to admit ‘a dweeb who she had failed to not sleep with once when she had got seriously hammered’ did not really count as ‘a boyfriend’.

She sighed and laid down her quill for a few minutes, rubbing her thumb into the palm of her hand to try and relieve the cramp. She looked at her fingers to realise they were covered in ink. JUST like being back at school. She shook her head.

Odd. She was not missing home anymore. She had not thought of it for a day or two. Now she let herself think about it she kind of missed mum. Kind of.

She felt vaguely guilty that she didn’t miss her brother at all but then she strongly suspected, were their situations reversed, he wouldn’t have missed her either. She also did not miss her job, rush-hour hell on the London tube, or taxes. Or bovril. Or anchovies.

She did miss chocolate, though. And ice-cream. And marmite on toast. And...

God, she was hungry!

A bell rang. Supper. She stared at her paper. Half finished and it looked a right bloody mess. She groaned. She would do the rest later.

Lindir is the only named elf who comments on Bilbo’s Earendil poem that he recites in the Hall of Fire the night before the Council of Elrond is held. And if you want to read Gandalf's version of the beginning of The Hobbit then you'll find it in Unfinished Tales.

Bain - beautiful

Ellon - male elf

For all non-Brits: Marmite is much like the Australian 'Vegemite' (which I strongly suspect I cannot spell) – a yeast spread. People either consider it the nectar of the gods or think that it tastes like cat vomit. There is no in between. It is a love or hate thing. Bovril is similar (though you can – horror of horrors – make it into a hot drink!) and is, of course, the work of the devil.

Chapter 18 - “Sense and Sensibilities”

Penny was in the Hall of Fire later that evening, listening to the songs and the chatter around her. Mireth was talking nineteen to the dozen next to her and Penny was happy enough to let the babble wash over her.

She felt a touch on her shoulder. It was Erestor. He beckoned her to come with him and, as they passed a group consisting of the hobbits, some of the dwarves and Mithrandir, he asked Gandalf to join him also. Penny was led out into the corridor and then into a small antechamber.

Elrond was in the room, leaning against a mantlepiece with a goblet of wine in his hand. He looked up and smiled as they entered. “Ah, Pen-ii. Good. There is someone I believe you have not been properly introduced to yet. Most remiss of us.” Penny looked at the chair he was indicating near him and saw Arwen smiling kindly at her.

“Pen-ii. I am glad to meet you properly at last. Father should have introduced us long before. It is only because of something I let slip just now that he has rectified it. You must forgive us if we seemed rude.”

As Gandalf translated this Erestor gestured towards a chair for Penny and Elrond poured her some wine as she took her place.

“I am most honoured to meet you, hiril nin. Aiya.” Penny’s brow furrowed. “Something you said? I don’t understand.”

Arwen laughed, but before she could reply Elrond spoke. “It would seem her brothers could not keep her in ignorance.”

“Ah,” said Gandalf, suddenly understanding what all this was about. “It would seem, Pen-ii, that Lady Arwen knows your story. From Elladan and Elrohir.”

Penny looked at Arwen in astonishment. She was absolutely speechless. Why this hit so hard she wasn’t sure. Actually, yes, she was. She knew exactly why. Arwen was female. She was an elf, sure, but she was female. The first female to have any idea of what she was going through. The compassion she suddenly saw in Arwen’s face brought tears to her eyes.

Arwen was speaking very softly. “I can have no idea what it must be like for you, or what you went through before it was known or understood, Pen- ii. I have wanted to say something to you all this time but was waiting for my father to inform me which he failed to do till I mentioned it to him myself.” She flashed an exasperated glance at her father. “I understand he wanted as few people to know as possible, and you must not blame him for his decision, but you also needed to have a female who understood. I think that is, in part, why my brothers told me though we are also very close and rarely keep secrets from each other. I confess I had sensed something strange about you even before they told me. It would not surprise me if others here sense it also. Indeed, I am sure they do, though they will not know what it means. You seem utterly foreign to us. More so than humans normally do. Does she not?” Arwen looked about her as she said this and there was murmured agreement from the other three.

If anything hearing that just made things worse for Penny. So she really was a freak. They were all picking up ‘weirdo’ vibes from her. She was determined she wasn’t going to cry. She wasn’t. She’d just started feeling a little settled, just started forgetting about it all to a certain extent, and now this.

She looked at Gandalf. “So everyone, or every elf at least, will have sensed something peculiar about me?”

Gandalf did his best to explain, “Not exactly. Possibly one or two. Not everyone is strong in such things, though all elves have such abilities to a certain extent.”

Elrond, Erestor and Arwen, listening to Gandalf as he spoke, realised what her question had been and what her concerns were.

Lord Elrond smiled gently, trying to reassure her. “You must not worry, Pen-ii. Often elves can sense that someone is different, perhaps from a culture or place utterly alien to them and that is how you will seem to most of them. That is all. No more than that, I can assure you. It is possible one or two will sense something stronger but even they will not be able to define it nor will they be concerned, given that you are here as my guest and with my approval.”

Penny nodded. It made her feel very uncomfortable to know all this, though.

“How are you finding Imladris, Pen-ii?” Arwen was trying to change the subject.

“I.. it is wonderful. Really.” They laughed. “Why do you laugh? Just to be here, to be...” She sighed. “I can’t explain what it’s like to be here. It’s like a dream in many ways. I have to stop from pinching myself at times. Not just that, but to meet or see all of you...”

Arwen nodded, “It must be very strange. If I were to wake up in the middle of Gondolin or Nargothrond tomorrow it would perhaps be similar.”

Penny nodded. She nearly added ‘Or Valinor’ and caught herself just in time. Thank God! Not the best thing to say given Arwen would not be going with her father...

“And how are Erestor’s lessons coming along? He is not being too hard on you, I trust?” Arwen grinned at the Counsellor.

Penny laughed, “Not at all. He’s very patient with me.” Erestor nodded in appreciation at this as Gandalf translated it. “It’s true. Le hannon, Erestor. He’s not the only one, though. Mithrandir will tell you: every meal time anyone sitting next to me is testing my Sindarin, Maura in particular. I have Lindir, Mireth, Eleniel and Celebdor all teaching me things as well. Too much, sometimes. It’s hard to remember it all.”

“It will come. Give it time.” Arwen stopped, considering Penny for a moment. “So you know what our futures hold. That must be hard indeed for you Pen-ii. I, as well as Mithrandir and my father here, can have some idea of what that can be like. But we can never know with certainty. Not like you.”

Penny was looking troubled, her brow furrowed. She really didn’t like thinking about it, or being reminded of it.

“Forgive me, Pen-ii. I did not want to make you feel ill at ease. I only wished to let you know that I can understand. Or a little at least.”

Penny nodded. “I know. I would expect, in some ways, that you would have such a skill, as Galadriel’s granddaughter, but it is known of you.” She hesitated.

Arwen, watching her, smiled softly as if she knew what Penny would have said. “Go on, Pen-ii. I do not think you will offend any by continuing.”

“Did you not say to Aragorn when you first met, when he said he thought you were Luthien, that your fate might not be dissimilar to hers?”

There was an intake of breath from Gandalf. As he translated there were mutterings and gasps from Elrond and Erestor but Arwen, having heard the names and guessed what she had said, simply broadened her smile. She nodded. “I did indeed, Pen-ii. So even that is known, is it?”

Penny nodded. “Oh yes. You and Aragorn are very well known.” She thought, ‘And thousands of PMFs are desperately jealous where I come from.’

Arwen raised an eyebrow at her. Penny looked at her curiously. 'Dear God. She didn’t inherit THAT trick from her granny too, did she?' Arwen smiled, the smile quickly widening into a smirk and then a grin. 'Bloody Nora, she DID!' Penny started giggling and Arwen joined her.

“I shall have to be careful what I think when I am round you, then,” said Penny.

Arwen shook her head as Gandalf translated. “Do not worry, Pen-ii. I can sometimes get a sense of what someone is thinking or about to say, but nothing clear. Nothing exact. Not like the Lady Galadriel. Or Mithrandir. It’s just... well... that was very clear and concerned me personally, that was all.”

As Gandalf translated this, Penny could see both Erestor and Elrond, but Elrond in particular, looking intrigued. Hoo boy. She hoped Arwen would not explain because that could open up a huge can of worms. Explaining the concept of the films might not be so difficult – much like a play or something – but fanfic...! She could just imagine it: ‘Well, Elrond... umm.. how shall I put this? There ARE people around who would give their right eye for one night with you. With any elf. In fact Glorfindel’s up there too, along with both your sons, but it’s mostly Legolas. Every time. Poor bugger.’

No. She didn’t think so.

“So Aragorn is the hero of your story?” Arwen was asking.

“One of them,” said Penny diplomatically. “He is, after all, the heir to the throne. As well as one of the Fellowship. Very heroic stuff.” She was having to bite her tongue and was trying to choose her words very careful. She had nearly said ‘future king’ except that might have told them he did actually become king.

Arwen could see she was getting uncomfortable and raised her hand in apology. “Forgive me, Pen-ii. I understand it may be difficult to even speak of the past or the present without reference to what you know will come afterwards. Still, I wished for Erestor to bring you to meet me now so at least we will no longer be strangers. If there is anything you need, you are to let my father know. Or me if that might be easier.”

Penny looked at her. She wondered if... did she know about what had happened yesterday with Erestor? Had he said something? Unlikely. Mireth possibly? Or Eleniel? She got the feeling that she knew, though, and she was grateful for the offer. It would indeed be wonderful to have a female around who knew what her full story was, not that Penny wasn’t grateful for the friendship Mireth and Eleniel had shown her by any means, but having a female on side was a relief.

The next few days passed into an easy routine. Mornings were spent first with Sindarin lessons followed by a few hours at the stables with Lindir who was getting her to brush or feed the same horse every time Penny noticed. If she had time before lunch she would do any writing practice she had for Erestor, a little weaving or else some embroidery. This last was a project she had been given by Mireth. She had given her a square of linen and a frame to keep the material tight and Penny had to practice the various stitches she had taught her, much like a sampler.

Afternoons were spent weaving or gardening, though she often had time to wander, which she did now Lord Elrond had given her permission to do so.

The tanners she didn’t bother with. Watching people scrape bits of animal skin she really didn’t need to see, thank you very much. The blacksmithing was amazing, though and in the buildings and workshops nearby to the blacksmiths were the carpenters, potters, silversmiths and jewellers. Slowly Penny found herself going there more and more often if she had any free time. She didn’t think she would be any good at any of it but it was all fascinating to watch.

Most of those working there were males. Any elleths who were there tended to concentrate mainly on detailed decoration. Penny was astonished at the level of intricacy and detail the carpenters managed to achieve with both inlay and marquetry. Over the next few weeks she would watch as a table top would be carved out and inlaid with tiny slivers and pieces of different coloured wood, or even metal or mother of pearl on occasion, till a scene of astonishing beauty was visible: a waterfall, mountains, and birds in the trees. It was not dissimilar amongst the smiths: working in silver, copper, brass and even gold. She now understood that Elladan’s miruvor flask, while stunning, was by no means unique.

This was not a production line. It was a slow careful process of creation for each item and the numbers working in each workshop were not great – five or six at most and in some it was less - yet the detail and beauty was all the greater for the time taken over each item.

The barn where the carpenters worked smelled wonderful and the floor was covered in wood chips. Work was not busy here: they took their time to both create a piece and then decorate it and, Penny soon realised, one elf would often be responsible for the entire process: from building a chair itself, for example, all the way through to carving it or inlaying it and then staining or varnishing it. There were smaller items such as boxes carved in such a way that they were like doilies – full of holes as if made of wooden, knotted string – as well as figurines, utensils (such as spoons) or arrow shafts. She was gratified that none of them minded her presence but welcomed her smiling, pulling up chairs or stools for her to watch them as they worked, and it was the same in each of the workshops and barns.

Slowly, as they all got to know her, she was given little jobs to do or given ‘a go’ on one tool or another. She couldn’t be sure but she rightly suspected that she was never given a job on anything important. Often it was a piece of wood too knotted for use, or the sawn-off end from something else. But even so she planed and drilled and even whittled, though quite what this last achieved she had no idea. She had made a very sharp point on a very short stick. To what end heaven alone knew but everyone nodded and smiled at her nonetheless.

She loved watching the turning. That didn’t happen every time she was there. You sat at a table, with the piece being worked on – whether a bowl or a chair leg – in front of you and a lathe held against it. Attached to the lathe by a rope was, from one direction, a treadle and, from the other direction, a bendy pole that was wedged firmly into the ground. Press the treadle and the lathe turned on the piece of wood; release and the pole (bent by the action of the rope pulling on it as the lathe turned) straightened so turning the lathe back in the other direction so you could then press the treadle once more. The lathe only ‘worked’, therefore, when the treadle was being pressed but in this way they could turn very well indeed.

They offered her a go on it but she refused, realising it would need a lot of skill and practise. Fun to watch, though: to see a bowl appear out of a solid block of wood. She noticed that often chair legs or similar were turned on green wood and then left in a pile unused for quite a while. Only weeks later would a turned leg become part of a chair or table.

Much of the work done by the carpenters, however, was basic everyday things. Wicker work was done here also, so baskets were made, fences and gates that needed replacing for the farmland further up the valley, chair seats were woven from rushes, low wicker panels for use in the kitchen garden, and barrels. Loads of barrels. They were the product of the combined efforts of the carpenters and blacksmiths and it was a job that took the several days.

Over the coming weeks she was introduced to basketry and discovered she wasn’t too bad at it. Or at least, unlike most things, she didn’t completely balls it up first time, even if it wasn’t perfect. She made a complete mess on the potter’s wheel, but had so much fun with it that she kept coming back time and again till at last she was showing some signs of improvement. She was pleased to finding some skills she enjoyed practising at last. She was really getting into the gardening as well and her writing skill with a quill was improving.

She’d suddenly got the knack of it and Erestor now found her ‘writing out’ exercises had vocabulary lists on the back of them. Everything was written in her own language since she didn’t always know for sure how something was spelt in Tengwar, though she always hazarded a guess. Erestor would correct any he saw mis-spelt but he was pleased that she was at least trying to make a note of the new words she was learning. He could always tell where she had been the previous day by the words written down: vegetables, garden tools or flower names; the names of various metals or woods, ‘hammer’, ‘chisel’ or ‘saw’; colours, material names, ‘loom’, clothing items. She was learning, slowly. The interesting part would be the verbs.

It was nearly two weeks since Halbarad had left and Penny was hoping that today or tomorrow she would be able to bid a joyous farewell to the belt contraption for a month. It was just after lunch and it was raining. Had been all morning too. It was pouring down, in fact, and Penny really didn’t feel like gardening or running through the downpour to the carpenters and smiths or even to her weaving. She was in one of the antechambers, alternating between reading her Sindarin lesson (she was up to lesson five) and her sewing. One of the carpenters had given her a little box, covered in carved butterflies, to keep her threads and needlework in. She loved it to bits.

Mireth was with her, also working on some embroidery, and Eleniel was busy darning a hole in a shawl. There was a fire lit in the room and quite a few of the guests and residents were here, seated near the fire, some near the three large windows with window-seats, others at chairs and tables ranged about the room. The dwarves were here, as were the Mirkwood elves. Mithrandir had just left and there was no sign of Boromir: no doubt with Elrond as seemed to be his wont. He had been at lunch, though.

Penny felt kind of sorry for him. He got on well enough with the elves it appeared but he was a bit of a lone element there. No one had come with him from Gondor but also all the men had left to search for the Nazgûl. She had spoken to Gandalf about it.

“I presume Boromir didn’t go because he doesn’t know the terrain?”

Gandalf had nodded. “He wanted to leave with them but was persuaded against it. Even he had to admit it would be easier and faster for the Dûnedain and elves of Imladris to search without him. He is a sensible and intelligent man. He understood well enough. Besides he is also a guest here and Lord Elrond would not hear of a guest undertaking such a dangerous mission.”

Still. Poor sod. Wandering about kicking his heels. Must be quite trying. If she hadn’t promised herself...

No. Out of the question. Absolutely.

She had then asked Gandalf about his saddle. Gandalf had looked surprised at her question. “Did that not make it into your stories, then, Pen-ii? He lost his horse as he crossed the river Gwathló near Thabad.”

Penny had looked puzzled for a minute and then it dawned on her. Of course he had! She had completely forgotten. “I forgot, Gandalf. It’s such a minor detail amongst so many in the stories that it totally slipped my mind.” She paused, considering. “His journey was quite an astonishing one, wasn’t it? That our stories do make clear. A feat of bravery and heroism in itself because the Greenway is in disrepair and the bridges collapsed. Poor Boromir.”

Gandalf nodded. “Yes, indeed. He had a very hard time of it. You saw him the morning he arrived, did you not? One of the scouts sent out to look for the kuduk came across him wandering a few miles South of here, completely lost. It was another reason why it was out of the question that he could immediately go back out with the others to look for the Nazgûl: he needed to rest. He lost near all he had also: his pack, his food. Elrond has clothed him as I am sure you have realised.”

Penny nodded in her turn. Now it all made sense. It also explained why he had reeked quite so badly that first day when she had nearly run into him. He probably hadn’t changed any part of his clothing in weeks.

He had taken to eating near Gandalf at mealtimes and was clearly getting to know the hobbits. It meant that he and Penny knew each other well enough now that they would nod, smile and greet each other. He had grinned the first breakfast he had seen Frodo go through her Sindarin with her for Erestor’s lesson. She now found him pointing out things to her in Sindarin at the dinner table also. Quite why she was surprised that his Sindarin was so good she had no idea. He seemed to speak very fluently and easily with those around him. She had asked about that too.

“Gandalf? Boromir is thought of as the warrior and his brother as the gentler, more scholastic one. Is that a fair assessment?”

Gandalf had smiled, “In very general terms, yes indeed. But do not forget Boromir is the eldest son of the Steward of Gondor. One day it may be he will, in turn, be Steward himself. He has been trained and educated to a high standard, as one befitting his station. Though his brother showed more inclination in that regard, Boromir is no dolt. His Sindarin, if heavily accented, is more than passable.”

Penny was pleased to hear this. Why, she was not sure. It was nice to know him as such a rounded figure. She had watched him a few times from a distance. Knowing what she knew meant she felt more drawn to him than the others in some respects, though it equally meant she kept her distance from him as much as she could. He seemed to get on well with the dwarves and spent much of the evenings, if not with Elrond or Gandalf, in their company with huge mugs of ale.

Ah, yes. The dwarves. That was an interesting situation. Very interesting.

Penny couldn’t put her finger on it. There was no tension between them and the elves, but there was no love lost either. Any elves who encountered them were courteous enough, as were the dwarves in their turn. Indeed, she had seen laughter and jokes being shared, but there was a definite vibe: as if neither side could completely relax. It could have been she imagined it. She doubted it, though.

Once she had seen the Mirkwood elves chatting with the dwarves in the Hall of Fire. It had been fairly obvious that Legolas and Gloín knew each other which Penny, thinking about it later, realised made a lot of sense. No doubt one or the other had met in diplomatic meetings between Erebor and Mirkwood she supposed. ‘Puts a whole new twist on the Gimli-Legolas friendship,’ she had thought.

The two groups were chatting even now, though only two of the Mirkwood elves were present (one of them Legolas) and only Gloin, his brother and another dwarf were in the antechamber.

The door opened and Gandalf came in with Bilbo, Frodo and Merry. As the only spare seats were near Penny and the two elleths, Gandalf steered Bilbo in that direction so he could sit. Mireth and Eleniel were standing, muttering excuses since they had jobs to attend to, so Penny found herself alone with Gandalf and the three hobbits as they chatted.

“Mithrandir, I would still love to know about Erebor and Smaug. Since this afternoon is stretching ahead of me, would now be a good time?”

Before Gandalf could reply Bilbo, having heard ‘Erebor’ and ‘Smaug’ had leapt in, “Ah, yes, Pen-ii. Gandalf told me you wanted to hear about my adventures. And very interesting they are too, might I add.”

Frodo groaned, “Now she’s done it. We’ll never hear the end of it, you do realise this, Gandalf? You should have warned her.” He turned to Pen-ii, “You will be stuck here for hours now.” He grinned.

Penny giggled when Mithrandir translated. “Well, if it’s not a good idea, another time perhaps?”

“No, no, no! Now’s as good a time as any!” insisted Bilbo as Gandalf explained what Penny had meant.

Penny was then treated to the most entertaining afternoon she had had so far. Bilbo started off easily enough, though Penny clocked the rolling eyes, shared giggles and smirks between Frodo and Merry as he did so. Clearly they knew this story backwards. She noticed they were staying to listen to it again, though.

It wasn’t long before the trouble started. Gandalf, busy translating every now and then, started interrupting Bilbo, clearly correcting him. Bilbo hadn’t even got past the point in the story of he and the dwarves leaving Hobbiton. Gandalf explained to Penny, “I would not tell him the entire truth to his face but it was not nearly as simple as he believes, as you well know.”

Penny grinned, “No, indeed. Thorin didn’t think much of him at all, did he? It took all your powers of persuasion to get them to take him along once they had met him, didn’t it?”

Gandalf nodded, grinning. In the meantime, Bilbo had called over to Gloín asking for his opinion. Gloín came over to join them and Penny was introduced, at last, to some of the dwarves. She bowed and greeted them, sticking to ‘aiya’ since at least that could be translated.

It then became a three-way story telling between Gandalf, Gloín and Bilbo with each interrupting and correcting the others much to the amusement of Frodo, Merry and Penny, as well as the small crowd that had now gathered round them. Bilbo was clearly getting quite exasperated with it all and there were several bouts of “Who is telling this story?” and “That’s not how looked from MY neck of the woods!” with Frodo adding a “Does it really matter?” only to get such looks from the three story-tellers that he kept his mouth firmly shut from then on, but not before he and Merry had exchanged a look and collapsed into giggles.

The next major stalling point was Mirkwood. Or, more specifically, King Thranduil. Bilbo and Gloín glossed over a large part of the story at that point, Penny realised, and when she looked at Gandalf to ask for an explanation she saw he was grinning at Legolas who was grinning back.

“That’s not quite how my father remembers it,” Legolas said, still grinning.

“I am sure it isn’t, but that is besides the point,” Gloín grumbled. “Besides, I do not think it is the place or time for prolonged discussion.”

“It isn’t quite how I remember it, if truth be told,” Legolas continued. “But you are right. This is neither the time nor the place.”

As Gandalf translated for her she could see Legolas’s eyes were sparkling with amusement. He’d been there! Of course, he would have been. That’s how Gloín and he knew each other, presumably. Or how they first met, anyway.

As dusk fell outside they were reaching the Battle of the Five Armies. Legolas was joining in with the story-telling as well now and telling of the march north of the army of Mirkwood. Penny’s eyes were wide.

“You were there, Lord Legolas?”

Legolas waited patiently as Gandalf translated. “But of course, Lady Pen- ii. Where else would I be other than fighting by my father’s side?” He had seemed a little confused by her question but affable enough.

As the dinner bell rang the conversation had fallen into a general chatter. There were gaps. Big gaps. But understandable ones. No mention made of the trolls’ gold, though they had mentioned Sting and Glamdring. No mention, of course, of the Ring or Gollum.

Penny noticed that Gandalf did not speak of Dol Guldur or the attack on it.

On the way to the dining hall Gloín, walking on the other side of Gandalf from Penny was asking, “So you had heard of Smaug’s fall and the restoration of Erebor in your country, Pen-ii?”

Penny nodded. She could feel Gandalf’s gaze upon her and suddenly worried that she had drawn attention to herself by asking for the tale. Gandalf would have stopped her, though, would not have joined in himself if that were case, wouldn’t he?

“Where exactly is your country, Pen-ii? I gather it is far.”

He hadn’t meant anything by it. He was intrigued. No-one seemed to know where she came from. Elrond clearly did, and Mithrandir, but neither were giving anything away. Gandalf quickly interjected.

“She does not know. She is clearly not from here but she has forgotten everything of her past. Bumps on the head can do that sort of thing. She was in a dazed and confused state when Halbarad found her. We are helping her as best we can, Gloín. Time may tell. Or may not. You never know with this sort of thing.”

Gloín nodded. Penny wondered what Gandalf had said, since Gloin had clearly addressed his question to her, but whatever it was Gloín wasn’t expecting her to reply any more. He simply smiled kindly at her and nodded. “I am sorry to hear that, Pen-ii. Most difficult for you, I am sure. If you will excuse me.” He headed off towards his companions.

“What was that about? What did you tell him, Mithrandir?”

“He asked where you were from, Pen-ii. I said that you have lost your memory.”

“Ah. Okay.” Penny grinned. ‘Good thinking, Batman!’ she thought.

“He was most sympathetic and moved to hear of it,” Gandalf continued.

As they entered the dining hall Legolas, who had been walking behind them and had heard the entire exchange, was giving Penny a rather odd look.

Chapter 19 - “Another Fine Mess”

Penny was blinking at Lindir. No. No, no, no. Oh, hell. Hell and damnation and...

She sighed. She knew it would come. She was just thankful that she no longer had the belt on now it had arrived.

She had turned up at the stables that morning to find, horror of horrors, the mare Lindir had been getting her to tend to most days was saddled and with a bridle. It could only mean one thing.

Lindir, seeing Penny approach, grinned broadly.

Penny now stood in front of him, arms folded, and looking less than impressed.

“Come along, Pen-ii. You knew it would happen sooner or later. The sooner you get on, the sooner you learn and the easier it will be.” He was beckoning her over as he spoke.

Penny shook her head, resigning herself to the fact that there would be no escaping it. ‘Besides,’ she thought, ‘Who knows how long I’ll be stuck here. Probably no bad thing to learn how to deal with the main mode of transport, I guess.’

It was a thought that had been building recently. She did not know how she had got here, other than it was sudden. She supposed that it could just as easily happen again in the opposite direction but ‘when’ or even ‘if’ were completely unknowable. It was another one of those points she tried not to think about too hard.

She put one foot in the stirrup and hauled herself up. She could do that much herself, having had enough practice with Halbarad. She sat uncomfortably on the horse feeling like a sack of potatoes. She suspected she did not look too dissimilar to one as well.

Lindir was looking at her with an amused expression on his face. He shook his head and indicated for her to get down. Penny was baffled. She got off the horse only for Lindir to lift her and sit her sideways on the saddle. His strength surprised her since he had lifted her just as easily as Halbarad had done. It just went to show: these elves may not be broad-shouldered like the men, but they were just as muscular and strong.

Sitting sideways on the saddle she felt even more precarious.

Lindir took her feet and balanced them on a little padded step built into the bottom of the saddle. Then he handed her the reins and showed her how to hold them. Then he said something and the horse stepped forward. Penny screeched, really feeling like she was going to fall off. Lindir, saying something to the horse so it stopped as well as placing his hand on its neck to reassure it, looked at Penny with astonishment.

This was going to be more difficult than he thought.

Eventually the only way Penny would settle enough, though she was still very nervous and tense, was if he put a leading rein on the horse and walked in front. It was completely unnecessary given that the horse would follow him obediently wherever he led it without it, but even so. Better that than no riding lesson at all.

As she was led down to the gates and then towards the paddocks, Penny felt embarrassed. They passed several elves on their way, all of them looking at her, staring, nudging or giggling. She assumed it was them laughing at her clear inability to ride. In fact it was the leading rein which they found so funny since it could only be there to calm Penny. It was an indication of how frightened she was and how little she knew of horses.

After a little while of letting her go round in circles in a paddock, with the leading rope getting longer and longer, Lindir said a word and the knot on the rope undid itself. Penny squeaked in protest but Lindir gave her a stern look as he coiled up the rope. “No, Pen-ii. You are used enough to her by now.”

The horse moved forward, Penny stiff and rigid in the saddle and holding the reins out in front of her as if they were burning her. Lindir came up to walk alongside them, making encouraging noises, though whether they were for the horse’s benefit or hers Penny was not sure.

In the end it was not as bad as she had thought it would be. She did not have to do anything other than sit there since Lindir did it all, directing the horse as to when it should stop or move and which direction to take. This would continue in the same way for a few days till she began to feel more comfortable on a horse by herself. Then, and only then, would Lindir start showing her how to make the horse move for herself.

When it happened he showed her both what to do physically as well as taught her the Sindarin commands the elves used. Just as well to get her used to riding both horses trained by elves as well as those who were not. That way she would not have any problems riding either in the future. That was what he had been instructed by Lord Elrond.

So she would learn how to pull the reins, or gently tap with her foot against the horse’s flank, and learn a word to say at the same time as each action. This was how she first learned the Sindarin for ‘left’ and ‘right’. She realised that this was what Halbarad had done: used Sindarin speech as well as a physical action to direct his horse. She wondered if that was something the Dúnedain did as a matter of course or whether he too had been taught by the elves. Either was possible, she supposed.

As her confidence increased over the next few days and she started directing the horse herself, always under Lindir’s watchful gaze, she sewed up the remains of her PJs one evening – now little more than shorts – and took to wearing them under her skirts for her riding lessons. The last thing she needed was to fall off a horse and have her skirts fly over her head without anything on underneath. Last thing Lindir would need too she suspected.

In the meantime life continued in the same routine it had settled into. She was a familiar figure round Rivendell now, as were the other guests. She often spent time sitting with Gandalf and the hobbits, who had taken to her somewhat and especially now Sam was helping out in the garden.

Her work in the garden led to her having regular contact with the cooks as well. Often she would wheel a barrow full of freshly dug vegetables to the kitchen door beside the sink and then unload them as they directed her. She found herself, occasionally, staying on in the kitchen after her work was finished in the gardens, to watch them cook. That in turn meant she was soon being taught things.

The first time this happened was actually one morning. She had decided to do some gardening before lunch for a change. As she passed by the kitchen door, Naurdir accosted her, waving two chickens at her. They needed plucking.

“Lord Elrond said you were to start helping in the kitchen, Pen-ii, well we need as many helping out as we can get for this kind of job.” Mireth was already there and Celebdor. Even Merry and Sam had been roped in. They were all sat on stools, along with all the cooks, plucking.

Penny took the chicken, trying not to make too much of a face as she did so, and sat on an empty stool. It involved laying the bird across your lap and pulling. That was it as far as she could tell. She made a start, trying to ignore the way it’s head flopped limply over her knee, and managed to get a few half-broken off feathers in her hand. This was tougher than it looked.

Someone nudged her. She looked beside her to see Merry grinning at her. “Look, Pen-ii, this is how it’s done,” and he proceeded to show her how to pull against the lie of the feathers, and with some force too. He worked in a steady rhythm. He nodded and smiled at her. “You try it.”

She was hopeless but she struggled on valiantly nevertheless. She realised that everyone thought it a little odd that she was unused to such a task. Similarly there were glances and murmurs when she was roped in to helping the kitchen proper. Her turning green at the sight of anything resembling the animal it had once been, let alone any gutting or skinning, was treated with amusement, bafflement or mild annoyance.

It took every iota of her will power to do it. Over the coming days whenever she helped in the kitchen she gritted her teeth and forced herself to get used to such things. Soon enough she was helping to stuff hearts and scrape tripe, as vile as it was. The tripe stank. Really, really stank. It was disgusting. Added to which, the smell remained in her nostrils for the rest of the day and meant she hardly ate a thing at supper.

The grimace on her face as she cut open whole hearts was priceless. She ignored the grins and sniggering. “I’ll show the arrogant buggers. I can do this. I can do this. I will bloody do this. Even if I have to run out of here vomiting,” she was muttering as she took the minced livers, breadcrumb, onion and mushroom stuffing and wedged it in firmly. Ewwww! Oh God. She was touching...

She tried not to think about it. She just had to get used to it. She had to. Who knew how long she would be here, and if... if she was stuck here... well, she couldn’t stay in Rivendell forever. She’d have to live amongst humans one day, she supposed, strike out on her own. Perhaps. She’d need to be able to cope with buying whole rabbits or unplucked chickens from the market. Or worse. Memories of Bree washed over her and she shuddered.

It got her thinking, though. What would happen to her? Within five months the War would be over. Then what? It was weird enough being here as it was. Thinking about what might be if she stayed in Middle Earth just terrified her. She felt happy enough (in relative terms) in Rivendell but she suspected she would not be allowed to stay indefinitely.

Arwen was very kind to her, making sure she was well looked after. She would make a point of getting Penny to sit with her in the evenings amongst the general company after meals, or else if she saw Penny when she was in the garden also, would call her over and talk. Even if Penny didn’t understand, Arwen would point out flowers, or simply try and make her feel included in whatever conversation was going on around her. The hobbits used similar tactics, as did the Rivendell elves she was getting to know. Erestor and Lord Elrond would call her over to sit with them if in company, so she was getting to hear a lot of Sindarin and beginning to recognise individual words, though she did not know what they always meant.

If Boromir was among the company she would do her best to not look at him or respond to him at all. In fact she did everything she could to avoid him even to the point of turning and walking in the opposite direction if she saw him heading towards her on occasion. If Gandalf was around he was careful to steer her away from him or give her some excuse to leave and get away from him. If Gandalf wasn’t around, though, it was not always so easy. Several times, now, she had found herself trapped in a corridor with him alone and he, taking his cue no doubt from the first time he had really tried to talk to her, would point out figures in paintings on the walls, explaining the scenes or stories they came from.

Many scenes she understood on sight, or she heard the names and could guess, and she was interested how many seemed to be related to Elrond himself. There was a portrait of Gil-Galad in his armour and his herald beside him; Earendil in his boat, the silmaril on his brow; Elwing in flight and the Nauglamir round her neck. There were views of Nargothrond, of Doriath or Gondolin. Boromir pointed them and others out to her. He clearly knew his history.

Even so she did her best to get away from him as fast as she could on such occasions, often muttering the name of some skill she was learning, or Mireth’s or Eleniel’s names, as if she had somewhere she needed to be. The problem was he was such a nice bloke. Really nice. Very affable, charming, well read and learned. He was as handsome as hell: tall, dark and strong. If it wasn’t for the fact that this was Boromir - Boromir who tries to take the Ring and, more to the point, will be dead in three months – she would have really enjoyed getting to know him better, or as well as she could within the confines of no mutual language.

Already she felt waves of sadness and despair hit her when she let herself think of the fact that he would die and that she knew it, that there was nothing she could do to stop it.

She also had another problem on her hands. She couldn’t put her finger on it exactly but she had noticed that Legolas seemed to be watching her quite frequently. She had, at first, thought she was imagining it then realised she couldn’t be when she glanced in his direction three times one evening to find him staring at her each time. His gaze had been one of curiosity but hard, his jaw tight. She hadn’t liked his look at all.

She remembered what had been said when she had first met Arwen properly and she started to be concerned that he had sensed something about her just as Arwen had. Elrond had told her not to worry about such a possibility, but she couldn’t help thinking about it. For several days after that conversation she had found herself second-guessing every elf she spoke to which was horrible. She had caught herself even doing it with Mireth and Eleniel, which was unforgivable.

There was a knock on the Lord Elrond’s door. It was late afternoon in early December, just after dusk but an hour or two before the evening meal.

“Come in.”

A figure entered hesitantly. “Forgive me, my lord. I trust I am not disturbing you? Lord Erestor told me you were here.”

Elrond looked up from his desk and the paper he was reading. “Not at all, Legolas. Please, do come in.” He stood. “Would you care for some wine?”

“I thank you, my lord, that would be most agreeable.”

Elrond gestured Legolas to sit in a chair on one side of the fireplace. There was no fire lit but the chairs there were more comfortable and it would be a more pleasant place to discuss whatever it was on the young prince’s mind. He was clearly troubled. That was obvious from his eyes.

Elrond came over to him, holding two cups of wine, and handed one to Legolas before seating himself opposite him. “Now then, Legolas. Why don’t you tell me what is on your mind? What did you want to see me about?”

Legolas did not answer immediately. He sipped his wine slowly, not looking directly at Elrond, as if trying to marshal his thoughts and considering how best to begin. At last, he lowered his cup, looked Elrond directly in the eye and said, “Who, exactly, is Lady Pen-ii?”

There was a brief silence during which Elrond studied the young prince thoughtfully. “What exactly do you mean by your question, Legolas? I am not sure how best to answer you.”

Legolas nodded. “I notice you answer my question with one of your own. Very well, my lord, I shall be frank. I am surprised that she is here as a guest and given free access to your realm. I admit I do not know her, but there is something about her that I sense, like nothing I have ever known. I know what her story is and yet...” He paused briefly and then looked Elrond straight in the eye as he continued, “And yet I do not believe it. Not for a moment.”

Elrond said nothing. He sat, his face impassive, his eyes narrowed slightly as he sipped his wine and allowed Legolas to continue.

“She has not lost her memory as Mithrandir claims. I can feel she has not. I have met those who have had such experiences. There was one unfortunate from Dale who suffered a terrible blow to the head in the Battle of the Five Armies. The poor man could not remember his own name, let alone his own family or history. He recovered, but not for many months. I know how that feels and she does not have that. Or not for me, at least, and, as I say, I have had prior experience of it. I find it curious and disturbing that one as strange as she should be here among us at such a time, and with the presence of such a thing as we have here with us in Imladris at this moment. It cannot be coincidence. Forgive me, my lord, if I seem overbold. I am sure if I sense this from her, then you and Mithrandir cannot fail to do so also. I just felt I should bring the matter to your attention.”

Elrond nodded and smiled thinly. “I thank you, Lord Legolas, for your conscientiousness in this regard. Though, I feel you are not being wholly honest.”

Legolas made a gasp of protest but Elrond held up his hand to stop him as he continued, “What you want to know is, if I and Mithrandir sense what you sense, then why have we not done anything about it? In truth, you feel you deserve an explanation, perhaps?”

Legolas coloured a little but nodded. “Forgive me if I seem presumptuous, but these are serious and dangerous times, my lord, as you well know...”

“And you are a prince in your own realm and one used to being in full possession of the facts. After the details and knowledge you were party to in the Council you feel it strange to be kept in the dark in this matter. Very well, Legolas. I am not surprised, in truth. I imagined one or two might sense something more than her simply being foreign to us, though she is foreign to us, Legolas, but I do not think you could even begin to guess by how much.”

Elrond stood, placing his cup on the mantelpiece as he did so. “I think, Legolas, you might better understand this from Lady Pen-ii herself. You would not believe me if I were to tell you without proof.” Legolas’s brow furrowed in incomprehension. “Please, wait here for a moment will you?” With that Elrond left his study.

He quickly found Erestor and explained the situation. Erestor shook his head. “I feared something like this might happen. Elbereth be praised it is at least someone as trustworthy and clear-headed as Legolas.”

“Indeed,” agreed Elrond. “I need you to find Mithrandir and Pen-ii. Bring them to my study as soon as you are able. I did not wish for any others to know of this, but Legolas deserves an explanation, even if he is one of those to go with Maura.”

Erestor nodded and bustled off, having a pretty shrewd idea of where Mithrandir and Penny might be since he had just come from the large antechamber where a crowd were exchanging stories and both had been there.

As Elrond re-entered his study Legolas asked, “What is this about, Lord Elrond? I take it I am correct in my assessment of her?”

“In part, yes. She is a stranger, foreign to our languages and customs. She does, as you suspected, indeed know where she comes from. The truth will shock and surprise you as it did me. You should know that not only Mithrandir knows the truth. There were six of us that questioned her: Erestor, Aragorn, Glorfindel and Halbarad being the other four. The twins and Arwen know also.”

Legolas nodded. In part that so many knew and yet she was still given free reign among them all alleviated his fears greatly. Even just to know that Elrond, as he had suspected, knew had eased his heart.

He had been greatly troubled when he had heard Gloín’s question and Mithrandir’s answer a week or so ago. He had immediately known it was not true and yet could not think why Mithrandir would lie, nor why her identity should be hidden. That, combined with the utter strangeness he sensed from her, had perturbed him. The more he had studied her and focused his attention on her, the more strange and alien she had seemed to him. It had worried him greatly. At first he had tried to push it away from his mind, refusing to consider that Mithrandir or Elrond would allow someone who may be a threat to walk among them. It had then occurred to him that they may have considered it better to have a threat where they could keep an eye on it rather than working against them unseen. It was then he had resolved to speak to Lord Elrond about it. He had a right to know. He was a representative of the North, would be going on an important and dangerous quest. If there was a danger to the quest, himself, his father’s realm or the Ring, he felt he should be told.

“I am glad you came to me with this, Legolas. Better you know the truth and all doubt is eased from your heart than you think we are holding back important information from you. When you discover what her story is you will, perhaps, understand better why I did not wish it to be generally known, and especially not to any of those who will accompany Maura.”

“So it does concern the Ring!”

“Only indirectly. I will let her explain.”

There was a knock on the door and Erestor entered with Mithrandir and Penny following him. As Erestor turned to go, Elrond bade him stay. “You may be able to help convince Legolas of the truth of all this. You might remember how difficult some of us were to convince at the time.”

As Legolas raised an eyebrow at this, Gandalf smirked, “Yes, Elrond. Some were indeed very difficult to convince.”

Elrond coughed and muttered something about not being entirely sure what Mithrandir was driving at. Then he turned to Penny, offering her a seat and some wine, before either Erestor or Gandalf could respond.

At last they were all seated and settled. It was Elrond who began. “Pen- ii, I appreciate this may be difficult for you, but I must ask you to explain where you come from and what your story is to Lord Legolas.”

Penny wasn’t sure she had understood Gandalf correctly at first. She looked at Elrond, who nodded, then at Legolas who was watching her quietly with that same intent, hard look she had caught him sending her way every now and then the last few days.

“Oh, shit.”

Mithrandir raised an eyebrow and didn’t translate.

She nearly spilled her wine as she let her head fall into her free hand with a groan. Then she looked at Elrond. “You said I had nothing to worry about. You said that most of the elves here would not sense anything about me. I presume he,” she gestured at Legolas, “has in fact sussed out that I am not who you are all saying I am.”

She sunk back into her chair, her elbow on the chair’s arm and her brow in her hand. She was worried now. Really worried. She knew that she had nothing to fear in the sense that those who already knew would make sure she was treated well but the idea that everyone would somehow guess or that word would get out in some way terrified her. They would all think her some kind of freak. It would change how they dealt with her completely. Especially if it became know that she knew what lay ahead of them all. God, it just didn’t bear thinking about.

She was toying with her wine cup, her breathing quickening slightly as all this ran through her head. There was silence from the four males in the room.

Legolas suddenly had a feeling that this was very big indeed and that she was very worried that he had even brought it up at all. He turned to Elrond, “What is this all about?”

Elrond sighed and then said gently, “Pen-ii? Please?”

She looked up at Legolas and he could see tears in her eyes. His brow furrowed even more.

“I am... I...” She sighed. “I do not know how I got here. I am from here, but not from this time. I.. Oh God, how do you explain this? There are two Ages or more between my time and this. All this, all of you, are known to me. I have read it all in a book. You are like myths. Like Gondolin or Valinor would seem to you, well that’s how you are to me.”

She waited as Gandalf translated her meaning, watching Legolas’s reaction as he listened. He snorted, smiling, clearly thinking it a joke. Then, as he glanced at the faces of Erestor, Gandalf and Elrond he realised that they were deadly serious. He looked back at Penny. “You cannot be serious? This is a jest, a trick, surely? It is not possible. I refuse to believe it!”

Penny didn’t need a translation. There was nothing she could say about Legolas that he would not think someone else had told her. She looked at Mithrandir, “Please explain to Lord Legolas that no-one here has told me anything of him or his family outside of that brief mention of King Thranduil when you, Bilba and Gloín were telling your story of Erebor the other day.”

Gandalf translated this and added, “I can vouch for what she says, Legolas. You must believe her.”

Penny looked at Legolas. “I have to confess that little is known of your history, Lord Legolas. I do not know if you have brothers or sisters. I do not know your mother’s name or her fate. All we know of you is that you are one of the Eight chosen to go with Maura and the One Ring. I know what your fate will be but don’t ask me because I won’t tell you. You are Legolas, son of King Thranduil, son of Oropher. Oropher came from Doriath and fought at the Battle of the Last Alliance. He didn’t wait for the signal from Gil-galad, but went ahead and charged. Your father brought home only one-third of the army to your realm from that battle. That is all I can tell you of your past. There is also no way I could know what you came here for, nor what you said in the Council, would you agree?”

Legolas nodded as Gandalf translated her question. He was not convinced. Anyone could have told her what she had just told him of his family.

“Very well. You came here to tell of Smeagol’s escape.”

Legolas gasped. He looked from Elrond to Gandalf who simply smiled sadly back at him.

“You know that no-one from the Council would have told her what was said there, Legolas. I know you do not need to ask us that,” said Elrond as he saw the younger elf’s astonishment.

Penny continued. “There was an attack. Yrch. Smeagol escaped but not before some of your people were killed. It was Aragorn who brought him to your father, at Mithrandir’s insistence.” Legolas nodded dumbly as Penny shrugged. “It is not much, and it may not convince you. You might think I learnt this from people telling me, but I didn’t I promise you. I read it. I read it in a book. Erestor, Mithrandir and Elrond can tell you.”

And they did: all three relating, in brief, what had happened at the questioning and how she had shown knowledge she could not have possibly known. Legolas’s eyes were wide in astonishment, alternately staring at whoever was speaking and then back at Penny.

At last silence fell and Legolas struggled to take in what he had been told. When he finally spoke his voice was quiet. “I see now, Lord Elrond, why you did not want this known and especially not to those who will travel with Maura given the fate of that journey is known and the outcome of the impending war.” He considered Penny thoughtfully for a moment. Then, “You must forgive me, Lady Pen-ii. I think I may have been a little cold towards you till now.”

She shook her head. “No, but I had noticed you watching me. I guessed that something was up.”

“It must be difficult for you to have such knowledge, my lady. Can I ask, is this part of the reason for your behaviour with Lord Boromir? I only ask because he has noticed and interpreted it otherwise.”

“What do you mean?”

Lord Elrond and Erestor were also looking confused. Only Gandalf knew of Penny’s discomfort with Boromir and not even he knew the reason why. As Gandalf translated Penny’s question he added, “Yes, Legolas, what do you mean?”

“Well, I have noticed Lady Pen-ii trying to avoid him. So has he, in fact. He mentioned it to me, jokingly, the other evening. He had tried to say something to you, Lady Pen-ii, in the Hall of Fire and, well, you muttered something and very deliberately crossed the room to talk to Lady Mireth. You...” Legolas cleared his throat. “You blushed a little, if truth be told. I think that he is under the impression... well... that, er..” Legolas trailed off.

As Gandalf translated what Legolas had said, Penny looked at the blond elf and caught a look in his eye: partial amusement and partial embarrassment.

Oh my God.

No. No, no. Oh, bloody hell. No bloody way, this was NOT happening. Someone tell her this was not bloody happening. She turned in horror to look at the other three, now smirking slightly, Elrond with one eyebrow raised. Only Mithrandir looked at all serious but there was a questioning look even in his eye as he returned her gaze. They had all suddenly realised what Legolas was driving at as well.

Boromir thought she fancied him.

Penny is learning to sit sideways on a horse because, as I can best discover (thank you NL & French Pony), that is how women rode even before the invention of the side-saddle. They would sit sideways behind the man or else sideways by themselves (but go no faster than a walk in that case). Riding hard and fast was clearly a male domain. Added to which is the issue of the skirts – which though potentially voluminous enough to cover everything could ride up. However: in elvish society men and women did not learn different skills according to sex as such (see Morgoth’s Ring – vol 12 of History of Middle Earth) unlike humans. That would, one presumes, mean female elves could and would ride astride their animals if they needed to. JRRT, in the same essay, says that, while male elves fought in battle, if necessary the females would fight as well and would be as skilled at it as the men. It is not inconceivable therefore that Penny will be taught to ride sitting astride a horse just in case she ever needs to move an animal fast. This is a war situation, don’t forget, so any eventuality is possible. Being able to ride a horse at a gallop, even if it does mean showing your knees, might save her life if Rivendell is attacked. So she will learn that as well later on. As ever this is poetic licence based on the best research I have been able to do on this matter.

Chapter 20 - “Open Mouth, Change Feet”

Penny was speechless. Dumbfounded. Horrified. She was fairly sure a large part of her brain had just imploded at the idea that Boromir thought she had the hots for him. The rest was in danger of atrophying and crawling into a corner to die slowly. This was NOT good. This was bloody insane.

‘Oh, great’, she thought, ‘We’re back to insanity again. Fantastic.’

In that moment, of course, she realised her mistake. She should have treated them all the same: either avoided them all or given Boromir the same attention she gave the others. It’s just she felt so uncomfortable round him. She had tried. She really had. Clearly, though, she had failed miserably.

Her mind was racing. There was no likelihood of him responding, was there? She hoped to God not. No, of course it was not likely. She was no whore and she was a guest of Elrond. No way, José, would he try anything even if he wanted to and she doubted he would. She sincerely hoped he would not. Added to which he was the eldest son of the Steward of Gondor, the nearest thing to a King till Aragorn would come along, so he was way out of her league.

What the bloody hell was she going to do now?

It was clear from the expressions on the faces round her that they thought the same as Boromir. She could not possibly tell them the real reason for her discomfort with him even though she suspected Gandalf might have guessed part of it. Her heart sank as she realised she only had one option open to her.

She nodded slowly at Legolas. Her stomach twisted into knots as she forced herself to speak.

“I thought I’d been more discrete. I feel really embarrassed knowing that he’s guessed.”

Grins.

Penny closed her eyes, could feel her cheeks burning, and wished to God that the ground would swallow her up then and there. Boromir thinking it was bad enough. Others knowing and thinking the same thing was going to be even worse.

“Please don’t tell anyone. Please. I beg you. I’d be mortified.”

Even wider grins.

“Have no fear, Pen-ii. Your secret is safe enough. But you must be more careful in future. I do not wish to seem rude, but Boromir is not... well... he does not know you, you are not from a noble family that he knows of. It would be out of the question.” Elrond was being as gentle and kind as he could be.

Penny nodded, feeling too sick in her stomach to fake an adequate response. She had noticed Gandalf had raised an eyebrow at her. He suspected she was lying. Thankfully he hadn’t said anything about it. He would, no doubt, understand why she had decided to accept the deception being offered to her. She had no alternative.

‘Nightmare scenario number four hundred and thirty-seven,’ she thought to herself. ‘Having to pretend you fancy someone who you know will be dead in three months and, even worse, knowing that he thinks you fancy him.’ She really was going to avoid him now.

As soon as she could she murmured an apology and fled Elrond’s study. She could hear the murmured talking even as she left the room. Wetting themselves, no doubt. She cringed with embarrassment.

There was a little while yet till dinner so she hurried to her room. She had some writing practice to finish for Erestor as it was. As she turned a corner she saw him: Boromir in conversation with one of the dwarves and two Rivendell elves at the bottom of the stairs that led to her room. She froze.

Okay, plan B: she would head to the gardens.

She turned to go in the opposite direction but not before she caught Boromir look up, see her and smile kindly at her. His look had been a mixture of kindly pity and vague amusement. Penny groaned as she walked away as fast as she could.

There had indeed been soft laughter once she had left the room but not cruel. She was young and clearly a little naive. She was certainly unused to how things were done here in that regard. It was Gandalf who was explaining.

“I do not know the full story of how things are conducted where she comes from, but I get the impression it is very different from here.”

The elves looked at him. “Well, she is married is she not?”

It was Erestor who asked. Elves can sense these things.

Gandalf looked at them. “No,” he said quietly. “She considers marriage something she is not ready for. The idea of that, even children, fills her with alarm. She considers it both amusing and strange that I think at her age should already be married. She is twenty-three. Most humans, as you well know, are married by her age. Or the females certainly are, but even many males.”

The elves nodded, murmuring their agreement quietly. Well then, what they sensed from her was not ‘marriage’ then but she was not unknown to a man. They wondered at this.

“Has she ever been married?” Elrond asked very quietly.

There was a brief pause before Gandalf said, “I do not believe she has, no.”

There was a shocked silence at the implications of this.

Gandalf continued, “I do not have anything specific from what she has said to me, and it is hardly a subject I can broach with her, but I sense that indulging in such things before marriage is not unusual where she comes from.”

The three elves exchanged appalled looks.

“You can’t be serious, Mithrandir,” Legolas was saying. “It’s unthinkable. Immoral. Disgusting! Added to which humans cannot control their conception of children as we elves can, how would such a thing be possible?”

Gandalf shrugged. “I may be wrong, I do not know. She is from a time very different and very distant from our own. Things change. Customs change. It may be that has changed also.”

“Perhaps, then, she thought Boromir and she...?”

Gandalf cut off Erestor before he could finish. “No. I do not think so. Of that much I am certain.” The others looked at him but he would say no more.

Legolas, draining his cup, stood. “Well, I thank you for your frankness, Lord Elrond. I understand completely, though I must confess I am a little shocked and bewildered by what I have learnt. If you will forgive me I think I need a little air. Time to reflect on this and allow myself to grow accustomed to this most unexpected news.”

“But of course, Lord Legolas. I know I do not need to press upon you the importance that this must be divulged to no one and in particular those who are to travel with you and Maura. I think it may be best to not even talk of it with those who already know of it. The less discussion and speculation on what she may or may not know the better, I feel.”

Legolas nodded, “But of course, Lord Elrond. I understand completely and wholeheartedly agree. You have my word no one shall learn of this from me.” So saying he bowed to them and left.

Erestor left soon afterwards but Gandalf did not do so. He turned to Elrond who had returned to his wine and his seat beside the fire. “I do not think she told us the truth just now. She knows something about Boromir, though what I do not know. She has not told me, but I sensed it from her and I offered to try and keep her away from him as best I could. She thanked me and seemed relieved for my offer. Something else is the reason behind her behaviour with him. I think I can guess what it might be, but I think it is better we do not know. It is also probably best Boromir continues to think it is because she finds him attractive.”

Elrond nodded. “But of course, Mithrandir. What do you think it may be she knows?”

“It is best not to speculate. It may not be anything ‘bad’ as such. It may be knowledge of his death. It may be many things. Whatever it is it is enough that she does not wish to get to know him too well while he is here. We should respect her wishes and not push her as to the reasons why. We may well regret it if we were to discover the truth. It may be that she will tell you more once we have left Rivendell with the Ring. I do not know.”

They both fell quiet then, lost in their own thoughts.

So for the following month till the Fellowship left she had to put up with Boromir. He was very gentlemanly about it all. She had to give credit where credit was due: he behaved impeccably with her. He went out of his way to not make her feel ill at ease, though she noticed there were no more solo painting admiration trips in the corridors. For that, at least, she was very grateful. If they met while they were alone he was pleasant and courteous but left as politely and as quickly as he could. Again, in some senses it couldn’t have been better.

The only bad thing from all this was that his behaviour raised him even higher in her estimation of him. It made her feel even more keenly how much of a blow and loss his death would be. As the time for the Fellowship leaving drew nearer she would lie awake at night thinking of what was to come and would wet her pillow with her tears.

For now, though, it was early December and, though, it was getting colder and there was little to do in the garden these days, there was still work she could help with. Her sewing was improving, though it needed a lot of work still. She had managed to make a small wicker basket for herself and was now trying to make a lid that would fit it. She would keep larger sewing projects in it. She had nearly managed a vase on the potter’s wheel... before it had collapsed on her, but she was definitely improving.

In her riding she had progressed to a trot and was struggling to master the ‘rise and fall’ that the rider needed to go with it: so you lift yourself out of the saddle in time to the horse’s movement so stopping yourself from just slamming into the saddle uncontrollably. It was very difficult to do sideways on, or so Penny found, and she wished she could sit astride the animal like Halbarad had done.

Her Sindarin was improving, if very slowly. She now had quite a bit of vocabulary, had identified a negative and had several basic questions and phrases both from what she had picked up and guessed the meaning of as well as that which Erestor had taught her. She was learning verbs, though how to conjugate them would be her next big struggle with Erestor. He started with those she knew already such as ‘sewing’, ‘gardening’, ‘riding’, ‘writing’, ‘reading’, or ‘eating’. Soon she had the endings for each person and could say ‘I ride’ or ‘he rides’.

It was a slow process though and there was a lot to take in. She was finding she was forgetting words she knew previously and Erestor now started giving her spelling tests. He had also given her a book. Or rather, a bundle of pages bound together with raffia. He made it clear this was for her to collect the words she was using and to write a vocabulary list of her own language. Her lesson was extended to an hour each morning and she now was trying to teach Erestor English. She wasn’t terribly good at it.

“Pen-ii, I have no idea how your language works. Every time you tell me a letter is pronounced a certain way you then write down something that is pronounced completely differently. It has no rhyme or reason to it. How can that,” he pointed to ‘bow’ which she had written on the board, “be pronounced bau as well as bou.”

Penny couldn’t help but giggle at his pronunciation. “‘Bow’ and ‘bow’, Erestor.”

He repeated them dutifully but still looked utterly baffled by it all. Penny sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “What do you want me to say, Erestor? It’s a mad language! Perhaps Mithrandir should be here with us.” She said in Sindarin, “Mithrandir. Here. Us. Lesson.”

Erestor nodded. He had guessed her meaning as it was. “Perhaps, Pen-ii, perhaps. I do not see that he will find it any less confusing than I, though. Anyway, that is enough for today. I shall study this further and see if I can find any sense of it. The ‘e’ at the end of a word I can understand well enough, but as for the rest...! Elbereth, it is the most bizarre language I think I have ever come across.”

She was learning more about social mores all the time, as well. While most skills were not delineated according to sex there were still boundaries. The dress of elvish women was no more revealing or sensual than the ladies or hobbit-females she’d seen in Bree. Contact was kept polite and friendly but there was little physical contact unless between husband and wife, betrothed or siblings and families. The male elves were clearly unaware, or pretended to be, of the effect they could have on female humans. Penny was slowly getting used to it, but still had to catch her breath if she was surrounded by too many at once.

She had had an unfortunate incident the day after Legolas had discovered her story. Mireth wasn’t about and Penny had a dress and two undershifts to wash. She decided to take herself off to the river without hunting about to see if Mireth wanted to come with her. So far they had fallen into a pattern of going once a week together, but since she had washing that needed doing and she had a few hours spare, Penny thought ‘why not’ and headed off.

Big mistake.

The path that led to the washing stoop on the river, wound through trees, so the river was near enough completely screened till you were nearly at the stoop itself. It meant that when Penny arrived she was left in little doubt as to the foolishness of her decision. She discovered that there were in fact male and female clothes washing days. Today was a male washing day.

They were very good about it. They had all heard her coming. It had to be her because no elf or hobbit would have made that much noise and, with only two humans currently staying in Rivendell, Boromir would not have run away immediately on seeing them. In fact Boromir would possibly even now be on his way with washing of his own. So it could only have been Pen-ii. They carried on, not even looking up. Only once they heard her running as fast as she could in the opposite direction did several look up and exchange grins.

Bloody hell! THAT was going to be a scene burned into her memory for life! Half a dozen male elves, or more, tunic-less and with their leggings rolled up to the knees bashing the crap out of their washing. Well, she certainly knew for a fact, now, how well toned and muscular they were. Bare chested, sweaty male elves. Bare-chested, sweaty, WET male elves. Penny stumbled as she ran just at the thought. She was fairly sure there had been at least one golden-haired elf there. Please God let it not have been Legolas. It was bad enough that she had recognised Lindir in amongst them all and she wasn’t sure but another one might have been Erestor. She could feel her cheeks burning. Oh, shit. Oh, shit! How did she keep doing this to herself? It was going to get to the point that she would be too embarrassed to come out of her room. Ever!

She ran all the way to her chambers and stayed there for the rest of the afternoon. From her balcony she could see a little of the garden and the beginning of the path that led to the gates and so down to the river. She could hear laughing and talking of males voices after an hour or so and stood, to one side of her window, to see. Yup, it was some of the washers, now fully dressed, and carrying wet clothes in baskets. Lindir was not there but Erestor was in conversation with a Mirkwood elf (not Legolas she was relieved to note, though he might have been there as well and she had just not see him). She groaned. Well that was going to be an interesting Sindarin lesson tomorrow. She made a mental note to not stay in the company after dinner but just come back to her room and get an early night.

She busied herself with some sewing, sitting at her window. After a little while, though, there was a faint knock at her door. She told whoever it was to come in (having finally learnt the phrase that Erestor said to her nearly every day) and Mireth and Eleniel entered, both in a fit of giggles. Penny smiled, wondering what on earth had happened that was so hilarious.

As the two elleths, near enough talking at once and finishing each other’s sentences, told her, though, her heart sank. Her name, ‘river’, ‘washing’ and ‘ellyn’ made it clear enough what was so funny.

Penny groaned out loud and let her head fall to her hands.“I don’t believe this! How did you know?” She tried her Sindarin, “Who he speak you two?”

“Lindir told us, but they all heard you and one or two saw you too, I think. Do you realise Lord Erestor was there as well? Oh, Pen-ii, it’s too funny! What WERE you thinking? I am sure I tried to explain to you there were separate washing days for men and women but you clearly didn’t understand me. I am sorry Pen-ii. I feel like this is my fault. Even so..” Mireth exchanged a grin with Eleniel and the two collapsed into another fit of hysterics, “I would have given anything to see their faces. And yours! Oh Pen-ii, I’m sorry. I can’t help it.” She had thrown her arms about Penny who they could see what mortified by what had happened.

Eleniel was grinning at her, holding her hand. “Pen-ii, do not worry. They are not upset. It is just funny. They all think so. You must not feel embarrassed. It was an honest mistake. Easily done, and not the first time by a guest I am sure. Everyone will be very polite and not mention it.” Her face split into an even wider grin as she added, “Still I can think of at least one elf I would not mind seeing in just his leggings.”

Mireth gasped, “Eleniel!” Then she roared with laughter.

Penny hadn’t understood but, having heard ‘leggings’ and ‘seeing’ with an ‘I’ ending in there somewhere she could guess. She shook her head, pink with embarrassment, but couldn’t help a smile. “Not I look,” she confessed in her fractured elvish. Which she had not. She had seen, but she had not dared stare or look properly. She had seen, realised and fled as fast as she could. She was now explaining this in fractured Sindarin and hand gestures to the two elleths.

That just made Mireth and Eleniel laugh even louder.

Penny was now worried this would have spread round the entirety of Rivendell. She tried asking Mireth and Eleniel but she couldn’t make herself understood. In fact, she was about to find out just how gossipy elves can be. Something like this would have been known round the entirety of Imladris within about ten minutes of the first ellon coming back from the river.

She was dreading heading down for dinner.

When the bell rang and the two elleths beckoned her to get to her feet and come with them she shook her head. “No. Everyone will know, I am sure of it. I can’t bear it.” They just grinned and, grabbing hold of her hands, pulled her to her feet.

“Don’t worry, Pen-ii,” said Eleniel. “We are with you. They wouldn’t dare say anything with us around. We’ll make sure nothing happens.”

There was no whispering. No giggling. Not even nudges or smirks. But she knew they all knew and by ‘they’ she meant ‘absolutely everyone including the hounds’. As soon as the three had entered the dining hall and made their way to a table and sat down she had realised. Something in Gandalf’s greeting to her: his smile was a little broader than usual, his eyes sparkling with amusement. Boromir too was near grinning. She found herself sitting not too distant from Lindir who flashed a smile at her, a far more friendly one than normal. As he did so she desperately tried to get rid of the image of his half naked torso out of her head. She wouldn’t think about it. She would NOT think about it. She was in serious danger of ‘beauty overload’ just at the idea.

She was grateful no one said anything or made anything out of it. It was utterly mortifying to know everyone knew, though. From now on she would not go near that bloody river unless she had Mireth or Eleniel with her. She had learned her lesson the hard way.

After dinner she would not be persuaded to stay with the company either in one of the antechambers or the Hall of Fire. As she was gently saying ‘no’ to Mireth and Eleniel in the corridor outside the dining hall, Arwen approached her. “Pen-ii. I heard about what happened today at the river. It must have been very embarrassing for you. Rest assured no one blames you or laughs at your expense. We have all done embarrassing things by mistake at times.”

Penny didn’t understand her but could sense the sympathy and kindness in her tone. She had understood ‘river’ so knew what it was in relation to. “Le hannon, hiril nin,” she murmured.

Gandalf approached. “Pen-ii. You surpassed yourself today, I understand. Lords Elrond and Erestor are most amused.”

Penny flushed scarlet.

Gandalf laughed, “Oh, do not be embarrassed, Pen-ii. You were not to know. No harm done. None at all.”

“No indeed,” agreed Arwen. Gandalf translated for her as she continued, “You must not worry about it in the least, Pen-ii. And if Lindir tries to make fun of you, remind him of the time he got roaring drunk one night, went swimming in the river and I and my ladies-in-waiting found him sleeping and completely naked on the river bank the next morning.”

Penny spluttered, her eyes wide. “I’m sorry... What!” She started laughing.

Arwen winked with a grin and wandered off to the Hall of Fire as she said, “As I say, Pen-ii, we have all done our fair share of ridiculous or amusing things. Do not feel ashamed for an honest mistake.”

Gandalf offered Penny his arm. “Will you join me, Lady Pen-ii?”

Penny hesitated, considering. Oh, what the hell! If Lindir could be found starkers on a riverbank by Elrond’s daughter and live to tell the tale, she could face this down. She took his arm and headed off with him to listen to the songs already sailing down the corridor towards them.

The following morning Erestor merely raised his eyebrow at her slightly when she entered his study for her lesson, but otherwise he didn’t mention it. He did not refer to it once. Penny did notice, though, that if he caught her eye his smile was a little cheekier than she had ever seen it before. Each time it happened she caught herself blushing and looking down. Once she could have sworn she heard him chuckle at her reaction, but when she looked up at him his face was impassive.

She wondered if it was a coincidence that today’s lesson was on days of the week? ‘Highly unlikely’, she thought.

After her Sindarin lesson, though, she had to face Lindir: the same Lindir who had smirked at her through most of yesterday’s evening meal, had told both Mireth and Eleniel, and who Arwen had suspected may try and tease her about it. She was not looking forward to being alone with him given those facts.

Sure enough, as she approached the stables she could see him already standing beside the mare waiting for her with a silly grin plastered all over his face. She gritted her teeth and muttered under her breath, “One comment. Just one bloody comment, my boy, and I’ll... I’ll...” She trailed off, realising she did not know the Sindarin for ‘drunk’ or ‘naked’ but she was pretty sure she could get the message across despite that if she needed to. Just let him try it. Bring it on!

Scowling she met his gaze, his eyes glinting with amusement, as she mounted the animal and started it moving. Lindir, quickly leaping onto his stallion to follow her, came alongside her, throwing glances at her every now and then and still grinning his head off.

As they neared the paddock, Penny stopped her horse and turned to him. “What? What is it, Lindir? I realise I made a complete arse of myself yesterday, but it was an honest mistake, alright? It wasn’t my fault and everyone else has had the common decency to not mention it, make light of it, or else reassure me that it’s fine. So what the bloody hell are you grinning at?”

Lindir looked a little surprised at her tone, grinned once more and then burst out laughing. He held up his hands as if in apology and did a fair attempt at looking suitably chastened. He failed miserably given he was still giggling. Penny scowled at him and moved her horse forward once more and into the paddock.

She heard a voice behind her. She did not know exactly what he had said, but it was something about ‘riding’, ‘horses’, ‘tomorrow’ and ‘river’. She was fairly sure he was suggesting they go riding there tomorrow. Given she knew perfectly well now that it would another male washing day, she knew he was just ripping the piss at her expense.

She decided to ignore him.

Lindir just grinned. He was going to enjoy today’s lesson enormously. “You are quite sure you do not want to ride past the river tomorrow? I am pretty sure Erestor might be there again. Who knows, I think I have a pair of leggings that need washing as well. I could get as many of us as possible there, if you like, all stripped to the waist.”

She couldn’t understand a lot of it but it was fairly obvious he was baiting her. She threw a glance over her shoulder at him and said pleasantly, “I’d be careful if I were you, Lindir. I know something about you.”

He was surprised to see, not a scowl, but a smirk. There was a mischievous glint in her eye as well. What was she up to? What had she just said?

She was speaking Sindarin now, “No you talk Pen-ii ‘river’ and ‘male elves’. I listen story. Your story.”

Lindir raised an eyebrow at her as he brought his horse alongside hers. Her tone had been firm, yet with a hint of laughter. What did she mean by ‘his story’? Was she playing along in return? If so this would be no fun at all.

“You ran away too quickly yesterday. You cannot have seen much. I think you need a second look. Let’s ride by the river tomorrow, hmm, Pen-ii? What do you think?”

“Lindir, Lady Arwen spoke to me, you know.”

Lindir froze as he heard Penny mention Lady Arwen’s name. He turned to her, feeling a little worried now.

“Arwen she talk me. You and river. Wine. Big wine. Arwen she look. No your clothes, Lindir. Lindir no you talk Pen-ii ‘river’ and ‘male elves’. You understand?” This last she had picked up with her lessons with Erestor.

Penny watched as Lindir’s eyes grew wide with astonishment. A flush immediately came to his cheeks and slowly spread to his entire face and even to his ears. She felt cruel, but... well... she HAD been told to do this by Arwen herself if he said anything and he had said something. Several times. It was his own fault.

He was not looking at her now but was clearing his throat and then talking matter-of-factly as if trying to regain some authority on the situation. “Umm, yes, well Pen-ii. I think we can keep things simple today. Walk. In a circle, please.”

He waved his arm in a vague manner ahead of him, still not looking at her in the eye and Penny, smirking her head off, moved the horse forward and then started walking in a large circle round the edge of the paddock as usual.

She didn’t get another peep out of him for the rest of the lesson.

Ellyn - male elves (plural of ‘ellon’)

Chapter 21 - “The Prodigal Son”

It couldn’t be ignored for any longer. In fact this was now officially designated a ‘Non-Ignorable Situation’. It was revolting and something needed to be done.

Penny was standing in her bedchamber, one arm wrapped round the top of her head, as she inspected her underarms. She had been in Middle Earth nearly six weeks. The hair situation was beyond serious.

It was bath night tonight (that, like clothes washing, was done once a week since it was such a palaver to organise) and she was going to have to broach this one with Mireth, Eleniel or Lady Arwen – whichever of them she ran into first this morning. She was not looking forward to using a cutthroat razor on her armpits, and she suspected she would be covered with cuts afterwards (and no tissue paper to deal with it), but she could not put up with this any longer. Apart from anything else it was making her stink. She had even taken to using the lavender oil under her arms in desperation.

No, there was nothing else for it. She nodded in a determined fashion, dabbed on some lavender oil on her freshly washed armpits, got dressed and strode down to breakfast.

Mireth and Eleniel disappeared straight after eating before Penny could speak to them. She knew Erestor would be waiting for her but she was determined to speak to Arwen first. She waited at her seat, even though she had finished eating and Maura had finished testing her Sindarin, till she saw Arwen get up and go to leave the hall.

Penny stood and rushed after her, “Arwen? Hiril nin? Goheno nin, I need to speak to you.”

Arwen turned and smiled, “Pen-ii! Good morning. You wish to say something to me, my dear? Come, walk with me a little, then. I am on my way to my chambers.”

So Penny fell in step with Elrond’s daughter as they walked down the corridors and up stairs. As they did so Penny tried to explain what she needed. She used her limited Sindarin first of all. “Me. Bath. Washing. Today.”

Arwen smiled, nodded and wondered what on earth Pen-ii was about to ask of her. She knew it could not be her monthly bleeding had returned once more: it was too soon, and besides Mireth and Eleniel had dealt with that situation admirably.

“Go on, Pen-ii. Is there something you need, perhaps?”

Penny checked the corridor to see that no one was near them. She then pointed to her armpit and made shaving motions. Her brows were furrowed as she looked to see if Arwen, standing watching her curiously, had understood her. It was immediately apparent she had not.

“Okay, let’s try this a different way. Ummm. Adan. Edain.” As she said this Penny made ‘shaving’ motions on her face. Arwen nodded. “Me,” she pointed at herself, made the shaving motions again and then pointed to her underarms.

There was a gasped ‘Oh’ from Arwen as the penny dropped. She grinned, nodding, and Penny beamed in relief.

“So you understand me? Thank God! Lady Arwen, I need a razor.” She switched to Sindarin once more as she did the shaving motion again and said, “No there is. My bedchamber. No there is.”

Arwen understood completely. She was surprised and pleased to hear Penny indulged in such a practice. It showed a level of cleanliness and attention to grooming nearly unheard of in humans. Elves would indulge in such a practice if they needed to, but you had to be very old indeed to need to do so. Arwen knew of not a single elf – expect possibly Cirdan – who was old enough.

“I will see what I can do, Pen-ii. We elves do not shave, but I am sure there might be one somewhere here. Indeed there must be for our male human guests when we have them. Otherwise a sharp knife might serve just as well. My chambers, after lunch, Pen-ii.”

Penny nodded, having understood that last part.

So after lunch Penny made her way to Arwen’s chambers, which, while she knew where they were, she had never been inside before. Penny could not help but gasp as she entered them. They were stunning. The walls were painted and the furniture was exquisite. There were two large balconies in the first room, which was much like a sitting room and antechamber and off which was a bedroom as well as another smaller room which Penny could see, through the open door, was a closet and dressing room.

Arwen disappeared into the bedroom for a moment and then returned with a small leather case. She opened it and showed Penny what was inside. A cutthroat razor, the handle made of silver and inlaid with mother-of-pearl.

“For you, Pen-ii. A gift.”

Penny understood ‘gift’. It was a word she had learnt when Mireth had given her the sewing kit and when the carpenter had given her the box. When Erestor had given her the book to write in and her own quill with silver nib he had used the word also.

Penny shook her head, “I can’t, it’s beautiful. Bain, hiril nin. Le hannon, but no you can’t give me this.”

Arwen shook her head in return, “Please take it, Pen-ii. We have several here kept for guests’ use and I am happy to be able to provide you with something you need and will use regularly. It is yours. I will not allow you to refuse me.” She smiled and held it towards Penny insistently.

Penny realised she wasn’t going to win this one. “Le hannon, hiril nin. Really I mean it. Bain. Le hannon.” She took it.

As she examined it, without opening the blade, Arwen could see and sense she was a little nervous. “What is it, Pen-ii?”

Penny, understanding her question looked at her. “I have never used one like this before. Oh... I don’t know how to explain it.” She smiled. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

‘Yeah, if I don’t slice an artery or something,’ she thought.

Arwen smiled thoughtfully and nodded, realising Penny was trying to convince her everything was alright. Penny thanked Arwen for the razor once more and then went to her own room to put it away before heading off to do some weaving and basketry.

That night she sat in the bath with the leather pouch on the floor beside her. She kept picking it up, opening it, closing it, and putting it back on the floor again. After picking it up for the third time she muttered, “Oh this is ridiculous!” and took the razor from the pouch.

She held it in her hands, nervously. She gently took hold of the blade and opened it out. The blade was... well ‘razor sharp’ funnily enough. It glinted menacingly in the candle and lamp light. Penny suddenly wished she wasn’t doing this in the gloom but in broad daylight. Too late now.

She placed the open razor on the floor, soaped and lathered one armpit then picked up the razor once more.

Her hand was shaking.

She breathed out, slowly, trying to calm herself. She was not quite sure why she was so frightened. Then her brain reminded her there was a reason why the ‘safety razor’ was so-called. Even so, men had used these things for hundreds of years happily enough before safety razors were invented. If they could do it so could she. She steadied her resolve. She tried to stretch her arm up as high and as far back as possible to make it easier. She slowly drew her shaking hand towards her armpit. She hesitated, took a deep breath, and then gently scraped.

OW! Dammit that stung! Ow! Shit! Damn!

She looked. Only part of the hair removed and a small nick that was stinging like buggery. She needed to do it again. At least she hadn’t complete sliced her arm apart. Her hand shook much less the second time, though she still felt nervous.

Once done she lay back in the bath, letting the warm water sooth her stinging skin. She wouldn’t even begin to attempt her legs. Not today. Another day when she felt braver. Perhaps stay hairy for a month or two till she’d got the hang of using this thing on her armpits first. Anyway, hairy legs did not make you smell at least so it was not as urgent as this situation had been. Besides, she was wearing long skirts. No one would know. Not like she was trying to pull. Not like she even wanted to pull anyone. No matter what Boromir may think.

Oh, shit. She’d managed to forget about that briefly. She groaned.

When she got out of the bath she realised she had a problem. She had cuts under both arms and nothing to stop the bleeding. She did not even know what would be used in such circumstances here anyway. Certainly not sticking plasters and she could hardly bandage her armpits on the strength of five tiny (if profusely bleeding) nicks. She had to improvise. It was nearly supper time and she did not have much time. In the end she got out two of her ‘period cloths’ as she called them, lay them over her armpits as she lay back on the bed with her arms stretched out above her. She waited.

Realising what she must look like she muttered, “This is bloody ridiculous.” She shivered. She needed to dress.

Clamping each arm firmly to her sides with the cloths wedged in her armpits she pottered round to the other side of the room to decide which dress she was going to wear. She now had five since the two that had been made especially for her were finished. They were both of heavier material than the others for which she was grateful now winter was truly setting in, but it meant they were buggers to wash being that much heavier when wet, of course. Her strength was building though. All the hand washing, the gardening, the lugging about of water and generally being active was doing her the world of good. She could tell because the water pump outside the latrine was getting easier to use. She giggled remembering Halbarad’s pitying expression and amusement the first time she had struggled with it.

Halbarad. She wondered if he would come back any time soon?

As it was at the end of the first week of December the scouts began to return. Over the coming week Penny began to notice the odd elf or human she did not recognise suddenly sitting amongst them at a meal or wandering past her in a corridor. The men were dressed just as Halbarad had been. Both the elves and men were dishevelled, their clothes stained with travel. The elves managed to look less dishevelled than the men, though, smelt a lot better and had well combed hair, but you could still tell they had been on the road for a bit. Penny giggled as a thought flashed through her head: ‘It seems elves are human after all.’ The men did not stay. Often she saw them at one meal, perhaps two, and then they disappeared once again.

She did not know if Halbarad would come back or send his information with someone else. She tried not to think about him. She definitely did NOT miss him. Nope. Definitely not. No, siree. Not on your nelly did she. She had only known him for nearly a fortnight for goodness sake, so why would she miss him?

One afternoon before dinner she found herself with Gandalf and Legolas as they walked in the garden, enjoying the early stars already visible in the sky. They discovered Erestor and Arwen sitting on a bench in a clearing and the three joined them. It was a rare opportunity for Penny to be surrounding by those who knew her situation and yet be under no pressure to discuss it. Even so the conversation invariably turned to it.

“I understand now how you knew of Smaug and the Battle of the Five Armies, Lady Pen-ii. Your stories did not tell you I was there, I take it.” Legolas seemed intrigued.

“No, I’m afraid not, hir nin. There is no mention of you at all in... in the book that relates of it.” She had nearly said ‘Bilba’s story’ and had only just caught herself in time. Gandalf knowing was one thing, but it was probably better not known for the time being, if at all, by others. Gandalf had sensed it since he flashed her a warning look. The others caught his look but said nothing.

“What we know of you is from the Council of Elrond onwards, really. I only know a little of your father and grandfather. If it wouldn’t bore you terribly, I'd like to know more. In fact,” she turned to the others, “That goes for all of you, really. Erestor, I know nothing of you, really, other than that you are Lord Elrond’s Chief Advisor, and you know, Mithrandir, that there are many things I’d like to know about though much of what I’d want to know you probably wouldn’t want to talk about at the moment.”

They looked at her quizzically. “Such as what, Pen-ii?” Gandalf asked her.

“Dol Guldur, for example. How you knew it was Sauron. I suspect you may never wish to speak of the time you went there, but we have only the barest details of it: what happened between you and Thorin’s father and nothing else.” She could see Gandalf’s face was dark. “As I say, I realise you may never want to talk about such things. It is why I have not asked directly before now.” Gandalf nodded and briefly explained to the others what she had said.

Penny turned to Erestor, “I know Glorfindel fought against the Witchking here in Eriador, but I presume you were there also. Did you see the fall of Arnor? That is another thing we have little information about. We know little of the Second and Third Ages.”

Erestor nodded, his face serious. “I was there, Pen-ii, but with Nazgûl newly abroad I hope you will forgive me if I say I cannot speak of such things at this time. Perhaps, if Eru permits, after the war.”

Penny said nothing but nodded. “I understand,” she then said in Sindarin. They smiled at hearing her use their language, but they noted she had turned her face away from them so they could not read any reaction from her concerning Erestor’s hope that he and she might be around after the War to talk of such things and that there would not be darkness and despair at such a time.

Penny recovered herself. “Tell me about your father’s halls, Lord Legolas, if it wouldn’t make you too homesick to think about it. I know beech trees are a favourite amongst your people. Can I ask you about your mother? Do you have brothers or sisters? If so are you the youngest, the eldest, somewhere in the middle?”

Legolas was laughing as Gandalf translated. “You wish to know my life history! And why, Lady Pen-ii, am I so significant?”

Penny resisted the urge to say ‘I have no idea, you had better ask the several billion Mary Sues in my universe’ and instead said, “Of the nine we know the histories and the stories of nearly all of them. We have family trees for the kuduk, Gimli, Aragorn and the Stewards of Gondor. What little we know of you I told you the other day in Lord Elrond’s study, Lord Legolas. I only want to know what I already know about the others. Even though I can’t tell you who the last two will be I know who they are and their stories as well.”

Legolas nodded. “Very well, Lady Pen-ii, I understand.” So the hour before lunch Legolas held her captivated as he described Mirkwood to her and his father’s realm. She learnt more than she could have hoped about his family and his people. He was indeed an only child, just as his father had been before him.

“May I ask how old you are, my lord, if it is not a very rude question to ask? Forgive me if it is.”

Legolas grinned, “I notice you do not ask Erestor.”

“Oh, I know he has to be ancient,” Penny grinned at the advisor, who raised his eyebrows at her and laughed. “Well, you must be if you saw the fall of Arnor.”

“Ah, and that qualifies me as ‘ancient’, does it?”

“Well, perhaps not compared to Lady Galadriel or Cirdan but compared to me it does. Thinking about it, though, Aragorn is ancient compared to me.”

They all roared with laughter. “Very true, Pen-ii,” grinned Gandalf.

Penny hastily added to Arwen, “I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“Not at all, Pen-ii. I am sure his young years must seem ancient to you.”

“Well, Lord Legolas?” Penny was turned back to him now.

He grinned at her mischievously. “Well, how old do your books say I am?”

“They don’t. Which is why I am asking. There is no mention of you fighting with your father and grandfather in Mordor, so I presume you were too young or else not born at that time, though I could be wrong. There is much debate about this subject. You are more than five hundred years, that is all we know.” Legolas nodded that this was correct. “Other than that, your age is guessed to be from five hundred all the way up to near three thousand.”

Legolas grinned again, “Well it is certainly between the two.”

Penny looked at him for a moment. “That’s all you’re going to tell me, isn’t it?”

Legolas’s grin broadened. “I think it only fair I maintain a little mystery.”

Penny couldn’t help but smile. “Fair enough, hir nin. I shall not press you. I shall make it my mission to find out though.”

Legolas raised an eyebrow as he laughed softly. “Indeed?” He seemed to find this idea extremely amusing as did the others.

Penny grinned but didn’t get any further since the dinner bell rang. As they stood and headed off towards the halls she turned to Arwen. “Hiril nin, if it isn’t too much of a bore, I would love to hear about Lothlorien.”

As Gandalf translated Arwen beamed, “But of course, Pen-ii. Both Erestor and Mithrandir could tell you much, also. We shall make sure to describe it to you when we are next all together.”

Over the next few days Legolas began to take on a similar role to Gandalf with Penny. She often found him inviting her to join him in conversation with others, or else coming to join whatever crowd she was sitting with to keep her company. He too had started to sit with the hobbits at times during meals and was added to the list of those who taught or tested her Sindarin. She found that both he and Erestor would now steer her away from Boromir or else Boromir away from her. Admittedly they were both labouring under the impression that she fancied the pants off him and that things might be less awkward for both if they were kept as far away from each other as possible, but Penny was grateful nonetheless.

The hobbits had taken her under their collective wing even more, it seemed, since the ‘river incident’. As strangers in Imladris also they saw Penny as a kindred spirit in some ways and they had been delighted to discover she was a tea drinker.

They invariably had a pot of tea with them at breakfast but Penny had always been too shy to say anything or ask them for any. Then, one afternoon, she had been bringing a whole barrow of potatoes and carrots to the kitchen, with Sam brandishing two huge caulifowers behind her, when she saw Merry busying himself with boiling water and a large teapot in the middle of the kitchen.

As Penny watched Merry picked up a container beside the pot and, standing on a chair, placed it back on the shelf from where he had fetched it. The elves had tea! Penny had assumed the hobbits had brought it with them from the Shire since she had not noticed any of the elves drinking any at breakfasts.

She went over to the container, lifted it down from the shelf, took off the lid and sniffed. She beamed. “Tea!” she said. Now she could come in here and make herself some all the time. Fan-bloody-tastic!

Sam and Merry looked up at each other and then at Penny with huge grins on their faces. “You know this drink?” Merry was asking her. “Would you like a cup?” He proffered a mug at her.

She nodded. “Le hannon, Kali.” She used Sindarin since they knew a few words and, in addition, had learnt quite a bit during their stay in Rivendell.

Merry nodded, smiled and poured her a cup, adding milk. Then he loaded up a tray with the pot, milk, cups, a loaf of bread, pots of jam and honey, butter and two plates of cakes. He staggered under the weight of it as he lifted it, found his balance, said something over his shoulder to Sam who nodded in response and he then headed off towards the antechamber the other hobbits were in. As Penny sat to enjoy her second mug of tea in Middle Earth, Sam grinned at her, deposited his two cauliflowers on the table, picked up a bowl of fruit as well as a third plate with a large walnut cake on it and trotted off after Merry.

From then on she became an official member of the breakfast tea drinkers (namely the hobbits and Gandalf), which was wonderful since she had really missed her morning cuppa. Gandalf and the elves were very amused to see she knew this drink, which hardly anyone outside of the Shire had come across before. Even Legolas experimentally had a sip given he saw both Gandalf and Penny drinking it with obvious enthusiasm. He clearly didn’t think much of it though given the expression on his face and Penny and the hobbits couldn’t help but laugh.

So it was that, a few days later, she was invited to join the hobbits for afternoon tea.

The hobbits, including Bilbo, commandeered an entire small antechamber to themselves at about four every afternoon for tea. It involved huge amounts of said beverage and more cake than you could shake a stick at... and bread with jam and honey... and fruit... and even a plate of sandwiches, cold meats and cheese if Pippin could wangle them out of the cooks (translation: swipe them when no one was looking). Penny was fairly convinced that Pippin, though the youngest, could eat an entire horse at one sitting. If not an elephant.

That they could eat so much so soon after lunch and so near to dinner was astonishing.

The hobbits talked affably enough. Penny loved watching them interact: talking over each other, interrupting, finishing each others’ sentences, teasing, joking and laughing kindly at each other. Bilbo was treated only moderately differently by the other four (though Sam was far more respectful towards him than the other three were) and was still the butt of many a joke and jibe. Bilbo gave as good as he got, though.

Penny, and anyone else who would listen, was given chapter and verse on life in the Shire, on hobbit genealogy (which was every bit as complex and mind-boggling as Tolkien had presented it), as well as being regaled with tales of just about every embarrassing moment any of the five hobbits seemed to have ever experienced as well as those of most of their relatives and friends. Pippin seemed to have had more ‘incidents’ than the rest put together which did not surprise Penny in the least.

On occasion someone else would join them. Gandalf was invariably there. Sometimes one or some of the dwarves were invited (Penny had noticed they had fairly healthy appetites as well – what WAS it about shorter races in Middle Earth that meant they seemed permanently hungry?). Boromir came once. Penny did her best to treat him no differently from anyone else while limiting her interaction with him as much as possible. She felt him watching her sometimes, though, and it made her feel distinctly uncomfortable.

Speaking of Boromir...

It was inevitable, she supposed, but it was still bloody awkward when it happened. Penny was on her way from the garden to her chambers one afternoon when she turned a corner to enter the halls only to nearly walk straight into Boromir. He was alone, of course. She groaned inwardly.

“Hir nin. Goheno nin.” She smiled apologetically.

“Lady Pen-ii. Please. Forgive me. My fault entirely.” He returned her smile.

Penny made to move past him quickly but felt his hand fall gently upon her arm to stop her. Oh, bugger. What now?

She turned to find he was not quite looking at her, but was gesturing to a bench near them. “Lady Pen-ii. Please. I need to speak to you.”

Oh, please, no. This was going to be excruciating. Penny could feel herself cringing. ‘Oh, God. Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God.’ She nodded, trying to keep her face as impassive and non-committal as possible, and headed for the bench as he followed.

Once they were seated he was silent for a moment, as if trying to decide what best to say and how best to put it. “Lady Pen-ii, I realise you may well not understand me. I.. er.. I feel it only fair to tell you that I am afraid I cannot return the affection you seem to have for me, as flattering as it is.” He glanced at her. In a way her not being able to understand him made it easier to be frank with her. “I feel it best to tell you this now so that you do not entertain any hope. Forgive me if this seems too frank a conversation, but I am a man of my convictions. I do believe in speaking plainly, in speaking my mind.”

Penny did not understand him but could tell by his tone and general demeanour what this speech was all about. This was the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech. This was the ‘I am not ready to commit’ speech. This was the ‘not in a million years with a barge pole if you were the last woman on earth’ speech. It suddenly flashed through her head that perhaps all those slash fanfics had been on to something after all.

He still couldn’t look her in the eye as he continued. “Lady Pen-ii, I will be leaving Imladris soon. Me, go, soon.”

Penny nodded. She had caught that much and now it was her turn to hang her head at the thought of it.

Boromir, seeing her react this way, completely misinterpreted it, of course. “It was never my intention to stay for too long. Forgive me, Pen- ii. I must return to Gondor, to Minas Tirith. Me, go, Gondor. My father needs me.”

Again Penny nodded understanding the gist of what he was saying. “Denethor,” she said to make it clear she understood.

Boromir smiled and nodded. “Yes, Denethor. My father. Pen-ii.. I..” He turned to her now and the expression in his grey eyes was one of deep tenderness and kindness. “There is someone waiting for me there. I love her.”

Penny understood that phrase. Completely. It brought tears to her eyes, which Boromir saw but, again, completely misunderstood their cause.

‘Time to be “The Understanding Woman-Spurned”, then,’ thought Penny.

In her fractured Sindarin she said falteringly, trying to keep her emotions under control, “I understand, Lord Boromir. Forgive me. Please. You walk Minas Tirith. Your love.” She gave him a quick smile, stood and went as quickly as she could to the halls.

The tears started falling before she even made it up the stairs to her chambers. She thanked God no one passed by her or saw her in such a state. When she got to her room she did not even get any further than sliding down the closed door to the floor with her head in her hands. It was true she wept in part due to the horrendous embarrassment and awkwardness she had felt throughout all that little scene but she wept mostly for Boromir. For Boromir, this kind, gentle and noble man, and for the woman who loved him and would never see him again. She wept bitterly and long, and even once she stopped the pain and despair she felt did not leave her completely.

Her sense of impending darkness and difficult times ahead was only increased at the end of the second week of December. She had just finished her riding lesson and was heading towards the halls for the midday meal when she saw a horse, a brown stallion with one white sock, brought to a halt outside the main entrance. She recognised the horse immediately. She knew, even though the man astride the animal had his back to her, who it was. His cloak was stained with mud, his hair was lank with sweat and dirt. She knew if she got anywhere near him what he would smell like... like nothing on earth. Still she couldn’t help break into a smile that quickly became a beam and then a grin as she walked towards him. She resisted the urge to run.

As he stepped down from the saddle and reached up to untie his pack he looked up and saw her heading towards him. He grinned and stopped what he was doing as she approached.

“Mae govannen, Halbarad.” God, she was pleased to see him.

“Pen-ii, well met indeed. You look well. I am pleased to see you.”

“I help you,” she said in Sindarin and started untying his bedroll from his saddle.

Halbarad looked at her in astonishment then grinned broadly. “Your Sindarin is coming along, I see. Good. Very good. I shall have to congratulate Erestor when I see him.”

Penny smiled. “Many. Maura help. Mireth, Eleniel, Celebdor, Lindir. They help my Sindarin.”

Halbarad nodded. He couldn’t stop beaming at her. He was amazed what nearly two months had done. He wondered what else she had been up to while he was away.

Lindir had not been far behind Penny in coming from the stables for lunch and now greeted Halbarad, taking the horse’s reins to lead the stallion back to the stables. He pointed at Penny as he headed off. “She is slowly improving in her riding, Halbarad. You should come and watch her. You would be pleased.”

Halbarad raised an eyebrow at her, “Riding, Pen-ii?”

She grinned and nodded, “Riding, gardening, sewing, pottery, weaving, baskets, carpentry, cooking. Many. I learn.”

Halbarad laughed. Well, this was a turn up and no mistake. He looked at her. She was a completely different woman. Suddenly before him was the sum total of all those flashes of the real Penny he had seen so rarely before but had made him wonder what she was really like. She was not the timid, nervous, utterly bewildered and terrified wretch he had brought here anymore and he was glad. More than he thought possible.

As they walked up the steps together, she holding his bedroll and him his pack and water-sac, Penny could not believe how excited and proud she felt at his reaction to her Sindarin and that she was learning new things. She mentally scolded herself but she could not help herself: she was ridiculously pleased that he was pleased.

‘This is not good, Pen. Get a grip. Get a bloody grip, woman,’ she was thinking as they headed down a corridor.

At last he turned to her, taking his bedroll from her while saying, “Forgive me, Pen-ii, but I must see Lord Elrond as a matter of urgency with my news. You understand, of course. I do not doubt you may even know what I am to tell him and what I have found of the Nazgûl. I will see you at lunch, perhaps, or afterwards?”

She understood enough of the last question to be able to nod and repeat ‘lunch’ at him. He grinned, nodded, and then turned to head off down the corridor in the direction of Elrond’s study in the hope of finding him there.

In a similar vein: JRRT said Boromir, like the last king, showed no inclination to marrying but was more interested in soldiering (see the Appendices at the end of ROTK). He was 40 when he died, so a little old to be unmarried still, but not too old by a long chalk. He may well have had someone he was courting in Minas Tirith, even betrothed to or about to be betrothed to. He may have had someone he loved from afar who never knew of his love for them. It’s equally possible he said it simply to try and let Penny down gently. I offer no explanation at this time and leave it up to you, the reader, to decide.

Hir nin - my lord;

Bain - beautiful;

Hiril nin - my lady;

Le hannon - I thank thee;

Mea govannen - well met

Chapter 22 - “A Friend In Need”

As it was Halbarad did not appear at lunch. Nor indeed was he anywhere about after it. Penny was kicking herself that she was so pleased to see him and so disappointed that he had not appeared for the meal.

The trouble was she had felt a connection to him even before they had arrived at Imladris: as being the only solid, stable, consistent thing around her when she had really felt like she was losing her mind. As a consequence she had grown to like him before she had had an opportunity to think through the implications of it. Just to realise that she now thought of him as a friend terrified her, given what she knew would happen. She was torn between delight at his being here once more and utter despair if she let her knowledge of the future encroach upon her in any way. She was, therefore, trying not to think about Halbarad at all.

Yet she could hardly stop thinking about him now she knew he was back.

She wondered how long he was staying.

Elrond had ordered food to be sent to his room for Halbarad and himself. Erestor had now joined them as well as Gandalf.

“Well, you have little more to tell us than the other scouts who have reported back to us so far, Halbarad.”

“So I understand, Elrond.”

Halbarad leant back in his seat near the open door to the garden sucking on his pipe. Gandalf was sat opposite him on the other side of the door also smoking. Erestor and Elrond were both at Elrond’s desk (in other words as far from the fumes as it was possible to be without being rude or excluding themselves completely from the conversation).

Halbarad continued, “I have a feeling you will not hear anything different from any of the others either. No word from Aragorn as yet?”

“No. I was hoping you might have heard from him.”

“Well, I ran into my cousin a few days ago who had seen him two weeks back. Same story. No sign of them other than the horses further downstream in the river.”

Elrond nodded. There was a brief silence.

Halbarad, seeking to change the subject, said, “I must congratulate you, Erestor. Penny was speaking Sindarin to me when she met me as I arrived.”

Erestor smiled. “She is doing well. It is slow progress, but she is getting there. She is getting a lot of help, also, as you will no doubt see at mealtimes. Maura has been particularly diligent in his testing of her vocabulary.”

Halbarad raised an eyebrow. “So she has got to know the kuduk?” He looked quizzically at Gandalf as he said this.

Gandalf replied, “Yes. She even has afternoon tea with them these days. Ban and she are regular helpers in the gardens. She has become quite a feature of Imladris, I think. When she is not stumbling over half-naked elves in the rivers, that is.”

There was a snort and a grin from Elrond and Erestor laughed out loud.

Halbarad, looking bemused and intrigued, smiled. “What is this?”

“Ah, well, I think Erestor is in a better position than any of us to explain,” Elrond smirked into his goblet.

“Yes, thank you, Elrond. Really it was nothing, Halbarad, though she was most embarrassed was she not, Mithrandir?”

“Yes, indeed. I think she took a lot of persuading to come to dinner that evening and again to join the general company afterwards.”

Halbarad was grinning like an idiot now. “What did she do?”

Erestor paused. “She did not realise there were designated washing days. She came marching down to the river with clothes under her arm to be greeted with the sight of eight semi-naked male elves.”

Halbarad nearly choked on his pipe he laughed so hard and for several moments he couldn’t speak or catch his breath. “You.. oh, Eru.. you ARE joking!” He laughed again, this time the others joining in, and was still sniggering when he said, “Poor Pen-ii. She must have been mortified. What happened?”

“Well, nothing, really. We had heard her coming, of course. It could only have been her. So we didn’t react at all. She took one look and fled. I do not think she could have run faster if she had had an army of orcs after her.” Again, there was laughter from them all.

“I heard she put Lindir in his place about it all,” Gandalf’s eyes were twinkling.

“Ah, yes, I heard about that as well. My daughter’s doing, I believe?” Elrond could not help but smirk.

Erestor did not know about this and looked as intrigued as Halbarad. “Is this to do with that day? Lindir was there as well as I.”

“Yes, he was and Arwen suspected he may try and tease Pen-ii about it. So she told Pen-ii a little something with which to counter any goading from Lindir.” Gandalf’s eyebrows were positively wiggling with mischief.

“I wonder how my daughter managed to convey that particular story to Pen- ii, Mithrandir? I feel sure you could enlighten us in that regard,” Elrond said to him pointedly. Gandalf ignored him but his face split into a grin.

Erestor and Halbarad had exchanged a look. Both raised their eyebrows. It was Halbarad who spoke.

“You don’t mean the time when he got drunk and Lady Arwen discovered him...?”

Elrond and Gandalf nodded, grinning broadly.

Erestor and Halbarad roared with laughter.

“I wish I had been there to see Pen-ii trying to convey THAT to Lindir,” Halbarad was near weeping with hysterics.

Gandalf chuckled. “He was most upset, apparently. Not that she had told him she knew, but that she had been told about it in the first place. I gather, from Lady Arwen, that Lindir had tried goading her several times before she said anything. She tried to warn him before she said it, too, so she gave him every chance.”

“Yes, but Lindir simply cannot help himself,” Erestor countered. “Her discovering us at the river like that was an absolute gift to him. Especially given how embarrassed she was. She could barely look at me in her Sindarin lesson the next day.”

“Which is no doubt why Arwen told her what she did,” finished Elrond.

“Exactly,” said Gandalf.

“Good for her,” said Halbarad, beaming broadly.

A little later Halbarad wandered towards the gardens in the hope that Penny might be there. Elrond, Erestor and Gandalf had spoken well and warmly of her, telling him how she was settling in and what she had been up to. He knew she was no longer his responsibility, but even so he felt a little protective of her and had been concerned she might have found things difficult without him around. She had stuck to him like glue those first few days and had clearly found his presence reassuring each time things had become difficult for her.

He had thought about her while he had been away and had wondered how she was getting on. He was pleased she had found her feet at last and was making such a concerted effort to learn and fit in.

He saw her as he entered the kitchen garden. Sam was nearby digging over some bare earth ready for some late planting of cabbages. Celebdor was uprooting carrots for supper and Mireth was with him. Various other elves were ranged here and there or coming in and out with barrows, but Penny was at the far end clearing some late fallen leaves from the paths. Halbarad, smiling on seeing her, made his way towards her.

She had a shawl (a gift from Eleniel) tied round her shoulders. She was wearing a heavy apron tied round her waist, which had a large pocket at the front into which she had jammed a sharp knife, a small pair of secateurs, and a ball of string. She had leather gloves on and looked every bit the gardener. Her cheeks were red from the cold and the hard work.

She heard his footfall on the path and she looked up. She smiled, “Aiya, Halbarad.”

He nodded, still smiling and returned her greeting. “Working hard I see.” Her brow furrowed. “Gardening. You,” he explained.

She grinned and nodded, scooping up the last of the leaves into the large basket she had with her. She stood, picking up the basket, and beckoned him to come with her with her head as she turned and walked even further down the garden. He offered to take the basket for her but she shook her head. “No need, Halbarad. It’s not heavy at all.” She waved the basket up and down to demonstrate. He nodded.

After she had tipped the leaves on the large leaf compost heap behind one of the screens of bushes Halbarad asked, “Are you finished for today? Can we talk a little, perhaps?”

Penny, understanding ‘finished’, ‘today’ and ‘talk’ nodded. In truth she could come and go as she pleased but she had no way of explaining that to Halbarad though she was sure he would know that well enough. She waved the basket at him, “Just need to put this away. Oh, and take this lot off.” She gestured at the apron.

He took the basket from her as she pulled off her gloves, stuffing them into the pocket of her apron. When she tried to take the basket back from him he would not give it to her, though. She smiled and thanked him. They wandered to one of the huts where they left the basket in the corner with several others and Penny hung up her apron, replacing her tools to their places.

“We walk?” she asked Halbarad in Sindarin as she stepped back outside.

He grinned and nodded. “We walk. Yes, Pen-ii.”

They headed off into the woods. Halbarad spoke first, “I hear you have been making a name for yourself.” She looked at him, smiling, but clearly uncomprehendingly. “You. River. Male elves.”

The look on her face was priceless. Halbarad chuckled. She blushed a vivid red.

“How the bloody hell do you..! Is nothing sacred? You haven’t even been here a day and someone’s told you already!” He was just grinning at her. She switched to Sindarin. “Who he talk?”

Halbarad looked at her. He thought he understood what she meant but was not sure.

She tried again. “My story. Who he talk my story?”

Yes, he had understood. “Elrond, Erestor and Mithrandir.”

She stopped walking and looked at him open mouthed. “You have to be kidding me? Do the four of you really have nothing better to talk about?” She shook her head in disbelief, groaning. “It was so embarrassing, Halbarad.”

He looked at her as her tone of voice changed. He could guess what she was saying. “Toloth ellyn, Halbarad. Toloth! And Erestor was one of them. Erestor!” She groaned and shook her head. She looked sideways up at him, caught his grin as he laughed softly, and chuckled. She pointed at herself, “Me? A complete bloody fool, that’s what I am.”

“Ah, Pen-ii. It was an honest mistake. No one blames you for it. If anything it has made you well liked: you have made them laugh. Not at your expense, though, just because it is funny.”

She had not understood him but guessed he was trying to reassure her. She smiled. “Le hannon, Halbarad.”

He nodded. “You are welcome. I also hear you dealt with Lindir admirably over the whole affair. I congratulate you. He can most persistent if he puts his mind to it.”

“Lindir?” It was the only bit she had understood.

“Yes, Lindir. His story. That Lady Arwen told you.”

Penny broke into a peal of giggles. She was in fits of hysterics and Halbarad could not help but laugh at seeing her like this.

“Ah, yes. Lindir. That WAS funny. I was most grateful to Lady Arwen about that. You should have seen his face, Halbarad, it was hysterical.” She made hand gestures to indicate his blushing as she said “Lindir”. She even pointed to the ears to show he had blushed all the way to the points. Halbarad roared.

They had come to a clearing surrounded by trees. There was a wooden gazebo in its centre with winter roses growing round the four pillars holding up the roof. There were two benches underneath it. They sat, still chuckling and smirking.

“I am glad you are settling in here.” He realised he would have to talk more simply. “I happy - see you learning and happy here. In Imladris.”

She nodded.

“Halbarad?”

He looked at her.

“How long are staying?” She tried Sindarin. “You. Here. Days?” She turned her hand as she said ‘days’ and tried to make it sound questioning. She counted on her fingers, “One? Two? Three? A week?”

He smiled but his face was serious now. “Not long, Pen-ii. There is much to be done.” He pointed outwards. “Out there. Much danger. You know, ‘danger’?”

She was looking at him, her face serious also. She could guess what he was saying. She nodded. “You have a job to do, I know.” In Sindarin she said, “Dúnedain. Big work. Eriador.”

He nodded, his face grim.

She stood, trying to break the mood. “Tolo. I have things to show you.”

He looked at her as she said for him to come and look. She was smiling, so he returned her smile and followed, glad to have something to distract him.

She showed him her weaving, her basket (nearly finished) and the little pot she had made, newly fired, and waiting to be glazed. In every place they went the elves told him of her diligence and conscientiousness. How she would visit them every day and, even though she had little or no skill, kept trying and was at last showing signs of improvement and learning in a few things.

Halbarad was amazed and pleased. She had seemed so aggressive and selfish when he had first met her. Though he well understood now why she had been so it was clear, had been clear to them all, that her culture and time was very different from their own. She had had a lot to learn. He had worried she might have found it too much, too overwhelming, though he had known that the elves would have been very patient and kind with her. He was glad to see his fears had been unfounded. He, dared he say it, was proud of her.

As they headed back towards the halls they met Frodo and Pippin. They grinned and greeted Halbarad warmly before Frodo said, “It is nearly teatime. Will you both join us? We have discovered Pen-ii is a tea drinker, Halbarad. So rare for a big person, though Gandalf likes it too of course. She joins us every afternoon now.”

Halbarad made his apologies, “It is a most kind invitation, Maura, but I must decline. I have travelled far yesterday and this morning and I need to rest and have a bath before I can present myself before the general company tonight, I feel.”

Penny’s ears pricked up, “Bath? Hot water? I help. We help.” And before anyone could stop her she was off up the steps and heading down the corridor towards the water room.

Halbarad caught up with her, “Really, Pen-ii. There is no need. I can manage.”

Penny shot him a look, “Hot water big work. I help.” She had a look in her eye that told Halbarad there was no point arguing. She was already saying ‘bath’ and ‘help’ to the one or two elves they met in the corridor who immediately nodded, turned, and joined them in heading towards the water room.

She did not know how to light the fire but she filled one cauldron with water. Halbarad and an elf took a tub to his room while she followed with cold water. She helped with the hot water too when it was ready. Thinking about it later she realised she had done it as much to prove to him that she could cope, that she was learning and, as much as anything, she was not really the ‘Bitch-Cow from Hell’ he had had to deal with all the way from Bree.

Once they were all done, the elves headed off, leaving Halbarad standing in the doorway to his chambers and Pen-ii about to follow the elves. He called her name. She turned back to him. He smiled gently, “Le hannon, Pen- ii.”

“No problem, Halbarad. Besides you need a bath. You stink.” She pointed at him and then held her nose. Halbarad’s eyebrows shot up as he gasped and then roared with laughter. Grinning, Penny turned and headed off down the corridor leaving Halbarad watching her go as he stood in his doorway, chuckling.

He was there at supper, his hair still damp, but freshly shaved and with a clean tunic and pair of leggings. There was no space near him or next to him so Penny ate with Celebdor and Eleniel but Halbarad flashed her a grin as she came in the dining hall.

After supper she found herself in the Hall of Fire as usual, listening to the singing. She did not think she could ever get tired of it in all honesty. Sometimes she would catch a name or a place mentioned and could hazard a guess at the song being sung or the tale it told. Mostly it just washed over her. Still beautiful, though.

She was sat on a bench against one wall, her eyes closed. When she opened them she saw Legolas glance in her direction and beckon her to join him. She stood. He was with Gandalf, Halbarad, and Elrond. She joined them and greeted them and they acknowledged her greeting but carried on talking. Another song was about to begin so, rather than disturb those who wished to listen, Elrond motioned them through a door into the large antechamber so they could talk freely.

As they did so Halbarad hung back a little and said something, with a mischievous grin on his face, to Penny. She furrowed her brows at him. Gandalf’s deep voice came from behind her, “He is asking if he smells less now he has had a bath.”

Penny laughed. “Yes, Halbarad. Much better.”

He grinned at her.

Hoo boy. This was not good. He had a nice smile. It lit up his entire face. She felt a pang of distress wash over her again as once more the reality of the situation hit home.

She did not know him well enough to really fancy him. He was attractive, sure, but quite a bit older (in terms of how old he looked) than the blokes she normally went for. She did not like to think about how old he actually was: probably old enough to be her grandfather and then some. For all she knew he could even be married.

No, that was not the problem. It was that, like Boromir, he was such a nice guy. She already found the Boromir situation difficult enough to handle as it was and she knew Halbarad a lot better than she knew Boromir. That made it much worse because she was already in the habit of treating him no differently than anyone else, in fact being more familiar with him than anyone else except possibly Mireth and Eleniel now. Every time she forgot that ‘prior knowledge’ in her head for a moment, a few minutes or even an hour or two and treated him as the friend he had become she found herself liking him more and more. Bugger it.

They had reached the antechamber, were finding seats. The chatter was still going. Arwen had joined them. Penny only took all this in distractedly, her thoughts elsewhere. She had not realised, though, that her brow had furrowed so her anxiety was clear upon her face and the conversation had died away slowly as, one by one, they noticed and wondered what she was considering. They murmured quietly to each other, commenting on it.

/What is it, Penny? Is anything amiss/

She started in her seat, staring at Gandalf. “What? Hmm? Sorry, I was miles away. No, nothing is wrong. Why do you ask?”

She suddenly realised they were all looking at her. Oh, bugger. “Umm. Why’s everyone looking at me?”

“You seemed distracted. Even worried, Penny.”

“No, Mithrandir. No. Not at all.” She did not even sound convincing to herself. She realised she was making them all distinctly uncomfortable. “Perhaps I had better go. Goheno nin.” Halbarad reached out a hand to stop her and reassure her but she was out of the door with as much dignity as she could muster before he could do so.

Elrond sighed. “It must be difficult for her. Not simply to know our fates, but to try to not think about it. A great burden for her.” The others nodded.

Arwen exchanged a look with Gandalf. “I will go after her. She might appreciate some company.”

Gandalf nodded. “I shall come with you to translate if you wish.”

Halbarad had stood also but Arwen waved them both to their seats. “Let me go alone. If I need translation or she needs more company I can call for you.”

Halbarad nodded and sat. He had always been there for Penny when he was last here. He felt he should be there for her again. Why in Mordor did he feel so beholden to her? He barely knew her, for Eru’s sake. He watched Arwen as she left, realising that a lot had changed while he had been away and he was vaguely annoyed with himself that it mattered to him.

Arwen found her outside, shivering slightly in the cold, but at least away from everyone else. “Pen-ii?”

Penny turned and gave her a sad smile. “Goheno nin, hiril nin. I didn’t mean to upset or depress everyone. It’s not what you think. Or what you imagine it might be. Well, it is in a way, but not... Oh, I can’t explain. It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry.” She sat on the steps, her head in her hands trying not to burst into tears.

Boromir telling her about his love in Minas Tirith and now Halbarad back and being his usual charming, affable self. It was all too much to cope with.

Arwen said nothing, just sat next to Penny quietly. She put her arm about Penny’s shoulder and gazed out into the night sky. Then, quietly, she started to sing.

As Penny listened the tune seemed to fill her head and took her far away. She did not understand and yet somehow she guessed this song was about men, about how the elves saw them. It suddenly occurred to her that elves had to face what she was facing all the time. Seventy or eighty years – the average life of a man – was nothing for them so they would have seen numerous generations born only to then see them then fade and die in, what was to them, a mere instant. Friends would have been loved and lost countless times for them. Every human they met and knew they would lose.

As the song continued, Arwen’s beautiful voice filling the night air with her melody, Penny was struck by what Arwen herself would have faced when she chose to marry Aragorn. Penny realised she could have no comprehension what that must have been like for her, or those involved. Arwen would face Aragorn’s death and live on after it. She would then face her own: a concept so utterly alien to the elves.

Penny found herself weeping uncontrollably as the song washed over her. She wept for Boromir and Halbarad. She wept for the generations of men that the elves had seen fall. She wept for Aragorn and Arwen. She wept for Elrond and how he would sail west knowing he would never see his daughter again.

She had no idea what was the actual meaning of the song, but it had helped. It put it all in perspective somehow. It showed Penny she was not alone in the pain she was facing, in the kind of knowledge she had. All mortals had to die sometime, sooner or later, and for the elves it was always ‘sooner’. She would have to find a way of dealing with it and carrying on regardless, just as they did. She could not allow it to effect her so in how she dealt with people. The elves did not when they dealt with mortals and that very mortality would be staring any and every elf in the face. For Gandalf also, she suddenly realised.

As the last notes died away into the air, and still Arwen did not move or speak, Penny felt much calmer and more focused than she had in a while. What would be would be. She would just have to accept it. No point in crying over it or beating her head against a wall wishing it wasn’t: such was the way of things, that was all.

She did not turn to Arwen as she said, very quietly, “Le hannon, hiril nin.”

Arwen nodded, smiled a little sadly and hugged her arm a little tighter round Penny’s shoulder while the stars twinkled brightly in the sky above them.

ellyn - male elves

tolo - come

Goheno nin - forgive me

Le hannon - I thank thee

Hiril nin - my lady

Chapter 23 - “So Long, Farewell...”

The day after Halbarad’s arrival, Mireth and Gandalf met Penny after her riding lesson. Mireth had a pair of leggings with her and Gandalf was explaining their purpose. These were to be worn under her skirts for her riding lessons from now on. She was to start riding astride the animal since she would need to learn how to trot and then progress to a canter and gallop. These last two were too precarious for her to try – as someone without the innate balance, skill and athleticism of an elf – sitting sideways on. She did not flinch when Gandalf explained that Elrond wanted her to learn to move a horse fast: that it may save her life one day.

“If Rivendell is attacked, for example, you may need to escape yrch or worse, Lady Pen-ii. It is a serious business.”

She did not, of course, explain that she would never need to escape yrch in Rivendell.

It did occur to her, though, that maybe Rivendell had been subject to some sort of lesser attack that was never mentioned. There was little enough in the books about the big attacks on Lothlorien and Dale, so it was always possible. She knew there were wolves around out there, even now. Suddenly she was very grateful that Elrond was taking so much trouble over her.

Glorfindel was there for breakfast the next day. Aragorn arrived late in the evening. One or two more Dúnedain and elves returned or stayed briefly over the next day or two, till soon all the scouts had reported back to Elrond except Elladan and Elrohir.

Penny found herself better able to cope with things since that evening on the steps with Arwen. She had a melancholy about her that a few sensed – Gandalf, Elrond, and Arwen in particular – but it was not strong, and she did her best to cover it. She was aware, particularly with the return of Aragorn and Glorfindel, that it would all begin very soon.

She did her best not to think about it, though, but if sometimes the realisation hit her in a wave (as would sometimes happen, especially if she saw Boromir and Halbarad together), she reminded herself of Arwen’s song, and of what every elf must feel every time they looked at a mortal, even when they looked at Penny herself. It did not make it less distressing or painful but it made it seem more ‘the natural way of things’: an inevitability that would come to all rather than a blow from out of nowhere visited solely on two individuals. Arwen had given her a sense of perspective that was helping her cope a little better, basically.

Penny managed to convey to Arwen that her bleeding was due in a few days and that there was no way she could ride when that was going on. Arwen said she would talk to Lindir, explaining that there were things Penny needed to do and learn that Arwen would be helping her with and that her mornings would be otherwise occupied for a week. As it happened Lindir did, inevitably, put two and two together and come up with four, of course, but kept his mouth shut and decided discretion was the better part of valour. For once.

Mireth had given Penny a combination of herbs to make an infusion from and drink as a herbal tea once a day for a week prior to her bleeding starting. As a result she did not feel nearly so ill and had little cramping when it started, which meant her routine was not disturbed as it had been the last time.

In the meantime, though, she still had a day or two of riding lessons and the morning after Aragorn’s arrival she had her first lesson astride the horse. She still had not mastered the trotting sideways on terribly well, but in the new sitting position she certainly found it a lot easier. Her skirts were big enough that, if she arranged them a little, only her ankles showed or possibly a little calf. Not that it mattered: the leggings came down to the anklebone.

However, she was mortified when, halfway through her lesson, she glanced up to see a familiar figure leaning against the fence of the paddock with a pipe in his mouth and a smile on his face. As she caught his eye, Halbarad nodded in approval. She flushed and immediately mistimed her rise, got hopelessly out of rhythm with the horse and ended up bouncing up and down like some idiotic jack-in-the-box.

There was a word of irritation from Lindir. She slowed the horse to a walk, recovering herself, then looked up to find Halbarad had left. She groaned. She felt very foolish for having bungled it quite so badly. He had completely thrown her.

What the hell was he doing coming to gawk at her like that, like she was some kind of spectator sport? He might have guessed he would put her off. He had hardly made himself discrete, either, puffing on that bloody stinky pipe of his. Ranger? One ‘skilled in not being seen’? Hardly!

She snickered.

Lindir raised an eyebrow at her. The expression on his face showed he was not amused. She had not fluffed her rise and fall quite so badly for a couple of days, and it should be easier, not harder, astride the saddle. He was less than impressed. He knew perfectly well what had happened. He had smelt the pipesmoke even before he had seen Halbarad. He would have to have a word with him about putting his pupil off like that. He had been far more discrete the day before: Penny had not even noticed him watching her. Coming to see how she was doing was one thing, throwing her completely was something else.

“Concentrate, Pen-ii, Halbarad or no Halbarad. In fact, it should not matter if the entirety of Imladris were staring at you, you still need to concentrate on what you are doing. Now, try once more. Again, Pen-ii. Trot.”

After lunch she managed to catch up with Gandalf as he went for his regular ‘perambulation to aid digestion’, as he put it. Aragorn was deep in conversation with him, Halbarad walking beside them both nodding as he listened.

Penny had not eaten with them since she had come late from her riding lesson and had sat with Eleniel instead.

“Mithrandir?”

He turned, smiling on seeing her. “Ah, Pen-ii. Do join us if you are not off somewhere or have things to do.”

“Le hannon, Mithrandir. I don’t want to interrupt you, though.”

“Nonsense, nonsense. Not at all. I do not think there is much we could discuss that you do not already know, in truth, not that you would understand much of what was said anyway unless I choose to translate for you. You are not disturbing us.”

She nodded and thanked them once more. She was not sure how she was going to broach the subject but she was glad Aragorn was here since it involved him. “I have a request,” she said at last.

They looked at her. “Indeed?” asked Gandalf.

“Yeah. I... well... I realise that Narsil will be reforged at some point soon. I would like to watch if it would be alright, if I wouldn’t get in the way.”

Gandalf grinned and, after he translated, there was a moment’s silence before Halbarad and Aragorn, catching each other’s eye, burst out laughing.

Penny looked baffled, then vaguely irritated. “What? What did I say that’s so hilarious?” Then it dawned on her, “Don’t tell me it’s already done? I’ve missed it? No! Please, no! It’s... it’s... well it’s the reforging of Narsil. This is, like, HUGE! This is history in the making!”

As Gandalf translated the two Dúnedain recovered themselves, looking more serious and with not a little interest at what she was saying.

Aragorn smiled gently. “No, you have not missed it. It is not yet complete, but it has already begun and very nearly finished. How long did you think it would take to make a sword, even to reforge one from an already existent blade?”

“Ahh... err... a day or two? Maybe a week?”

There were gales of laughter as this was translated. Halbarad was wiping tears from his eyes, “Ai, Pen-ii, you are priceless!”

“I take it that it takes a bit longer, then,” said Penny sourly. They did not need to find her ignorance quite so hilarious. It was hardly her fault. “You know, in my time swords haven’t been used in battle, seriously, for about two hundred years. No one uses them.”

This was greeted with confusion and astonishment. “There is no war?” Gandalf asked.

“Oh no! There’s loads of war. More than ever before, probably. It’s just that they don’t use swords.”

Her voice trailed off as she saw Gandalf looking at her but not translating. He had very deliberately avoided questions about her time and he was possibly about to find out more than he would ever want to know if he followed this subject to its conclusion.

“Mithrandir, you are... well, you are who you are. You know better than most, perhaps, what men are capable of. They don’t use swords. They use things that are much worse. Things I really don’t think you want to know about.”

Gandalf nodded. “No, Pen-ii, I am not sure I do.” He turned to the other two, “Let us just say that they have no need of swords since other weapons have superseded them. I do not know what. She would prefer not to say and I, for one, would prefer not to know. I do not think I would like what I would learn.”

Aragorn and Halbarad looked bewildered by this, but both knew Gandalf well enough to take his word on trust absolutely and without question. If he said it was better not to know then it was indeed better not to know.

“Some people still make swords, but only for people who pretend at this sort of thing. They recreate wars or battles from long ago, but it’s not real.”

They looked slightly confused at this. War and battle were serious matters. Why anyone would want to ‘play’ at it was completely beyond them.

“You mean children? Small boys?” Aragorn asked.

Penny snickered. “In a manner of speaking.” She coughed and tried to look serious. “Umm, no, not really. Just really sad adult men.” She looked at Halbarad. “That’s what I thought you were when I first met you, Halbarad. One of these blokes who pretends at being a warrior.”

Halbarad was managing to convey astonishment, amusement, indignation and bafflement all at once. It was quite an achievement.

“When I touched your sword that time... well... I was not expecting it to be sharp. I was very frightened when I found out it was. Thought you were a madman. I didn’t think I would survive the night. Where I come from people just don’t walk about carrying weapons. You have to be mad, bad or dangerous to know if you do. It was the reason why...” She looked at him quite seriously for a moment before she continued, “It was the reason I was so rude with you those first few days. I treated you with no respect and I still feel guilty about it. If I had known, Halbarad, if I had realised for one moment that you were really Halbarad, or even a Dúnedan I had never heard of, I would never had spoken to you the way I did. I hope you can believe that.”

As Gandalf translated Halbarad’s smile warmed. He nodded. He had guessed most of this, had realised that her behaviour in Bree had been entirely due to her struggle to accept where she was and what she was involved in. It was nice to hear such a detailed apology from her, and to know that his name was enough for her to consider he needed respect. Nice to know his work, and that of the other Rangers, was actually appreciated at last.

‘Even if it is two Ages from now,’ he thought ruefully.

“Do not worry, Pen-ii. I have told you before it is all in the past, forgotten. Still...” His eyes twinkled a little. “You certainly showed some spirit. No one would dare speak to me the way you did.”

“I realise that. You were very patient with me. I must have driven you mad.”

“Well...” He nodded and, catching each other’s eye, they laughed.

Penny continued. “Look, the point is that I know nothing about swords or how they are made or how long it takes. So forgive me but you shouldn’t laugh at my complete ignorance.”

Halbarad and Aragorn murmured apologies.

“It is a long process,” Aragorn explained, “and takes nearly a month. They have been working on Narsil for a few weeks already. I am surprised you had not noticed in your visits to the forgery.”

She opened her mouth to say something then closed it again as her brows furrowed. She cast her mind back. Now she thought about it, she had seen them working on something sticklike in the past few weeks. She had thought it might be a blade, in fact it had become fairly obviously one as she had watched, but it had never occurred to her that it was Narsil or, rather, Anduril. Nor had it occurred to her it was the same sword she was seeing being forged every time.

She was annoyed she had not seen the earlier processes now, from when the shards were first brought there and onwards. The noise and heat meant she rarely stayed with the blacksmiths for very long and invariably headed over to the craft workshops whenever she was in that direction after only a short time.

They could see her disappointment.

“Tell you what, Pen-ii, we shall head over there now and you can see it. I shall explain what has happened so far and what is yet to come. How would that be?”

She beamed at Aragorn. “That would be wonderful, Aragorn. Le hannon.”

Halbarad was pleased he came with them. Watching the expression on her face was extraordinary, as both Aragorn and Gandalf agreed afterwards. The awe and reverence with which she watched, almost hardly daring to breathe, as the metal was heated, hammered, and heated again, struck home to all three just how much she knew about their history... and their futures.

The following day Halbarad was to leave Imladris once more. The wolves were gathering in larger numbers in the north and there was a lot to do.

He came to track Penny down at her riding lesson. He called to Lindir, saying something to him as the elf turned to him. Lindir called “Stop” to Penny and then pointed at Halbarad, gesturing for her to go over to him.

“I have come to bid you farewell once more, Pen-ii.”

Understanding ‘navaer’ well enough, she could not hide the disappointment in her face though she tried her damnedest to.

Halbarad smiled ruefully, “Pen-ii, you cannot get too dependent on me. You are finding your own feet here. Besides,” he looked at her, “I do not want to give you the wrong impression.” She would not understand him, could not, but it needed to be said.

He had been shocked to hear, yesterday afternoon, of her less than subtle behaviour with Boromir.

It had been Aragorn who had said something. Legolas was with them, and they had seen Penny walking in the distance, see Boromir and suddenly veer off in a completely different direction, blushing furiously.

“She does her best to avoid Boromir, does she not?” Aragorn had said.

“Ah, so you have noticed too?” Legolas had smirked. “So has Boromir.”

Legolas was not inclined to divulge what he knew, but when Aragorn jokingly said something about ‘it’s as if she has some infatuation for him’ Legolas found it hard to keep his face entirely impassive.

Aragorn, chuckling, had then caught Legolas’s eye, seen the expression on his face and gasped, “No! You ARE joking, Legolas?”

Legolas then had little choice but shake his head and, as Aragorn fell about with laughter, explain the whole affair.

Aragorn had found the whole thing nearly as amusing as Legolas clearly did, but Halbarad had been irritated by it. She had risen so much in his estimation that for him to suddenly discover she had been behaving like some idiotic love-sick girl irked him beyond belief.

That evening, as he had watched Penny sitting next to Mireth in a crowd of elves in the Hall of Fire, he had suddenly remembered all that had irritated him about her when he had first met her: her arrogance, her impatience, her utter refusal to behave in a reasonable manner or treat him with anything less than contempt, as well as her sheer wilfulness and bloody-mindedness.

He had watched, too, as Boromir, talking with one of the hobbits, had joined the company she was with and how Penny had, after a few minutes innocuous chatter, left the group entirely to join Legolas, Aragorn and Elrond.

Not before she had cast a surreptitious glance in Boromir’s direction, though.

Halbarad saw it clearly enough but only because he was watching her intently. He found himself muttering a phrase he had not used of Penny since a day or two after they had left Bree: “Stupid bloody woman.”

By the Valar, she had some audacity, he had to give her that. Did she not know who she was fawning over? None other than the eldest son of the Steward – he who ruled in place of the King himself – the Steward of Gondor.

Halbarad stopped himself. What was he thinking? Of course she knew. That just made it even worse. What was she playing at? There was ‘instant physical attraction’ and then there was ‘making a damn fool of yourself’. She was fortunate that, as far as Halbarad knew, only a small number of people were aware of it. That Boromir knew was bad enough, though. He shook his head. Unbelievable.

In a way it had made the inevitable leaving of Imladris all the easier for him. She had no need of him any more, that much was certain. Not that he had entertained any thoughts of her in that regard, but it still hit home that he, really, knew nothing about her, that any friendship he felt for her was based on the trauma she had been through with only him to lean on and nothing more.

As he sat there that night, still watching her, he remembered her distress, her terror, her near madness as it had seemed to him then. Yes, she had needed him. Needed him and been grateful for him even in the midst of her raging at him. Now, it seemed, she was so at home she could make eyes at the sons of near princes with impunity. Halbarad’s eyes narrowed. She needed a damn good slap, he thought to himself.

It was not the first time he had thought THAT, either.

“I am leaving Imladris,” he was now saying to her as he stood by the paddock fence. “As I told you I must. I thought I should bid you farewell.”

Penny was picking something up from him. Some vibe. As if he was pissed off with her. She had noticed it yesterday a little as well. He had not been quite so warm with her or as friendly over supper, nor this morning at breakfast. In fact at breakfast he had barely said two words to her and had very deliberately ignored her to the best of his ability. Or at least that was how it had felt at the time.

She wondered if she had done some massive social ‘faux-pas’ yet again (it would not surprise her if she had) or if this was just him brooding on the things he had to do or even Aragorn heading South. His good friend (best friend perhaps?) was, for all Halbarad knew, facing certain death by walking into Mordor with the One Ring. That could not be easy for him.

‘About as easy as knowing you will go to Rohan in a couple of months and not come back, I suppose,’ Penny thought to herself.

“Halbarad is everything okay? Are you upset with me?”

He did not understand her question and there was no way she knew of making herself understood. The concern in her eyes, though, told him enough to guess near enough what she was asking. He did not reply.

Penny could have sworn his eyes flashed and narrowed a little. She was suddenly reminded of how he had been in moments of irritation and rage in Bree. Back then she would have laughed in his face at his ridiculousness. Now...

Bloody hell, what HAD she done?

Before she could ask or say anything more he nodded and, with a fairly curt ‘Navaer’, he was gone. Penny watched his retreating form and felt tears prick her eyes. He had not even commented on her riding. Not once.

As she turned the horse and went back to her lesson she could feel her annoyance building. It was as if a black cloud had settled over her. The fact that she was ‘due’ tomorrow or the next day did not help her peevishness.

God, he was an irritable sod! Every time she thought he was a pleasant enough guy, a good friend, someone she could think of as her rock and someone she could turn to, he managed to utterly piss her off or prove her wrong.

She was aware her teeth were grinding. She glanced up to see Lindir was regarding her with some interest. “Oh bog off, Lindir,” she muttered to herself, “You are the last thing I need right at this moment.”

As soon as her lesson finished she ran down the path to the gate, hoping he might still be here, that she could find out what was going on. He had explained to her, with Gandalf’s help, of course, that Rangers often called in to Rivendell to let Elrond know what was happening. Gildor called occasionally too. Halbarad had explained that Gildor had been with him when they had first seen her. She had not quite known how to deal with that piece of information. Anyway, the point was that she knew that it was likely she would see him again before...

She could hear talking as she drew nearer through the trees. Then she saw them: Aragorn, Halbarad, Gandalf and Elrond.

Gandalf and Elrond were standing back a little, side by side, but Aragorn and Halbarad were talking quietly, earnestly. Penny slowed, then stopped, as she watched Halbarad clasp Aragorn’s forearm with his hand and then Aragorn pull Halbarad into an embrace for a few moments as they patted each others’ backs.

She should not be here. It was not her place to intervene in this.

Her throat tightened, and not just from the touching scene she had witnessed, the shared moment of comradeship between the two who, as far as they knew, may not see each other ever again. She was desperately sad that Halbarad was leaving while upset with her about something. She did not even know why, or what she could do about it either. There was no way she would be able to speak to him in front of the others as it was.

She turned and walked back towards the halls as quietly as she could.

Elrond had glanced up in her direction, seen her arrive, hesitate and then turn without a word towards the halls. Gandalf too at noticed her approach and retreat.

“Pen-ii,” Elrond called to her.

She stopped, not turning round at first and muttered a curse under her breath. When she did turn, Elrond was beckoning her over to them. As she joined them she was apologetic.

“I did not mean to intrude, only to say goodbye properly.”

Halbarad’s face showed nothing, though it was clear to the three males, who knew him very well indeed, that he was being quite cool and stiff as he nodded his head to her, with the barest, thinnest of smiles.

“Navaer, Pen-ii.”

That was all he said.

He turned the horse, raising his hand in farewell to Elrond, Gandalf and Aragorn, and headed down the path to the gate.

Penny realised she had been snubbed. Not only that, she had been snubbed with Elrond, Gandalf and Aragorn as witnesses. Her cheeks flushed in anger and shame. What on earth had she done to deserve this? She was mortified and distressed. She could not let him go like this. She simply could not.

As she stood there in shock and bewilderment, a thought occurred to her. If he was THAT pissed off with her he might deliberately avoid coming to Rivendell and she might never see him again.

That settled it. She ran after him.

“Halbarad! Wait!”

He was quite some way down the path, passing through the gate. He did not stop his horse. He could not be doing with her. She was stupid, childish and clearly not worth the effort he had expended on her. Let Elrond deal with her and her ridiculous behaviour. He had had enough of her.

“Halbarad! Please! Halbarad!”

He gritted his teeth, stopped his horse and turned.

“Yes!”

“Aragorn, why would Halbarad be angry with Lady Pen-ii? Did he say anything to you?” Gandalf’s voice was quiet, his expression thoughtful as they watched this little scene just beyond the gates unfold.

Aragorn’s brow furrowed. “No. I do not know what this is about.” He paused. “Unless...”

“Unless?”

“Well, he was less than amused to discover she had been mooning over Boromir.” Aragorn smirked. “Personally I think it amusing, if extraordinary. She never fails to entertain, does she? Erestor told me about the river incident as well.” He chuckled.

Gandalf’s eyebrows had raised a little as Aragorn had spoken. “How did you know about Boromir?”

“Ah, well her behaviour has been fairly obvious. I noticed it, mentioned it to Legolas and the expression on his face told Halbarad and me all we needed to know. He then explained what had occurred between you all when she had actually admitted it. As I say, Halbarad did not seem to find it nearly as amusing as Legolas and I.”

Gandalf nodded. He exchanged a glance with Elrond.

“In which case I think we had best leave them to it. This will not be a scene either will wish to have witnessed, I imagine.”

Elrond and Aragorn followed Gandalf through the trees back to the halls.

Penny came to stand beside the horse, looking up at Halbarad. The look in his eye was hard and cold.

“Halbarad, please. What have I done? Please, tell me. Why are you angry with me?”

He sat in the saddle, impassive, not even bothering to respond to what he clearly did not understand. He wondered how much time would be wasted before he could leave her, no doubt snivelling and hollering at him, and get on his way.

She said in Sindarin, “Why you...?” and then furrowed her brows and tried to look cross.

He understood that. He looked at her for a minute or two wondering whether it was worth saying anything or not. She would not understand him so there seemed little point, but then if she really could not see how outrageous her behaviour had been, then it would be his pleasure to tell her.

“Why am I angry? I am not angry, Pen-ii. Far from it. I am disappointed, I suppose. Disappointed and saddened. Given what I had seen of how you had changed so much during your stay here I thought I had seen the Pen-ii I had always suspected you might be. You have proved me wrong.”

He could see this was entirely going over her head. He could also see the bewilderment and distress in her face. He sighed in annoyance.

“You fawning over Boromir, Pen-ii. He is the Steward of Gondor’s son. He has been most gracious about it all, I am sure, but I was appalled.”

The colour had drained from Penny’s face. Her voice was very quiet. “Boromir? What about Boromir?”

He could see her breathing had quickened, that she was looking shocked.

“You.” Halbarad said. Then he patted his chest above his heart. “Boromir.”

For a moment Penny could not believe what she was hearing. Her eyes filled with tears. Keeping one hand on the horse’s neck she turned away from Halbarad slightly with a sob.

Her mind was reeling. What was she going to do? He was the only one to have reacted so strongly, so angrily. She could not bear the idea of him being upset with her, or even her not seeing him again, and yet how could she possibly explain this?

She turned to look at him. He could see the tears already streaming down her face. He guessed she was at this moment too upset to speak because he could see her struggling to even keep her sobs under control. He was glaring at her. He was all the more irritated by her now making such a scene about it all.

“Halbarad, I... It’s not what you think. You have to believe me Halbarad. Please. I cannot tell you, but... it’s not what you think.”

There was something in her tone: the despair, the agony, and the clear pleading that made Halbarad look at her more closely. What was going on?

“Pen-ii?”

They looked at each other for a moment. Penny glanced back in the direction of the halls, saw that they were, in fact, alone now, and made a decision.

She said, in Sindarin, “Not I love Boromir, Halbarad.” Her voice broke as she said it, the tears falling fast.

Halbarad was staring at her, his face serious, his voice quiet and threatening. “What are you talking about, Pen-ii? You said to Elrond, Erestor, Gandalf and Legolas that you found him attractive.”

She had understood enough to know what he had said. She looked at him and repeated, “Not I love Boromir, Halbarad.”

“Elbereth, Pen-ii! Either you are lying to me now or you have lied to four noble people each one worth more than you could ever be. Either way I am less than impressed, Pen-ii. I have had enough of this. I am going.”

He moved his horse forward only for her to say, in Sindarin, “Stop, Halbarad. Please!”

He did stop and, breathing hard in his irritation, glared at her.

She took a few breaths, looked him in the face and said the Sindarin for ‘two’ and ‘month’, then “Boromir” and “yrch,” and then she reached up behind Halbarad to touch the base of his quiver. She then tapped her chest several times, as if hit by arrows.

She wept as she looked at him, never taking her eyes off him, hoping and praying that he had finally understood her.

He had.

He stared at her in disbelief.

Suddenly he realised. He realised why she had tried to avoid Boromir, why she had been left little option but lie when confronted by Legolas. In that instant the sheer enormity of the kind of foreknowledge she had hit home to him. They had known she knew the outcome, the events that would take place. It had occurred to Halbarad that she would know who would die, but he had not stopped to consider what that knowledge would be like for her to deal with, let alone imagined it would be people she would get to know so intimately. Though, of course, it had always been a possibility.

He also realised that she would have only told him this because she knew that, since he was leaving and would not be back before the Nine Walkers left, there was no danger in him having this information. He realised that otherwise she would have been forced to lie to him as well, even though she would have known she might lose his friendship in doing so.

Without a word he got down from the horse, stood in front of her for a moment, and then put his arms about her shoulders and let her weep into his chest.

They stayed like that for several minutes.

At last she calmed and he pulled back to look down at her. “Ai, Pen-ii. Forgive me. I understand now. I am sorry.”

She nodded but said nothing.

As he looked at her Halbarad realised how vulnerable she was, even now, even though she was among his friends and was being well looked after. The knowledge she had was a terrible burden. Then and there he resolved to look after her, one way or another. Even after the war he would be her protector and friend.

“I have to go, Pen-ii. But do not fear, I shall be back as soon as I may to see how you are faring.”

She smiled at him, thinly, and he turned to climb into his saddle. Then he looked at her, holding his hand out for hers. She took it and smiled up at him.

“May Elbereth make you strong enough to cope with your burden, Pen-ii.”

“May Elbereth protect you, Halbarad.”

He smiled, squeezed her hand as he murmured ‘navaer’ and then moved off through the trees.

Just before he came to a bend in the path, he turned, saw her still standing there watching him leave, raised his hand in farewell and then was lost from her sight as he disappeared under the trees.

navaer - farewell

Chapter 24 - “...Auf Wiedersehen, Adieu!”

Penny was not entirely sure she had done the right thing. She also felt she had had little choice, though. She trusted Halbarad, trusted he would not do anything or say anything to prevent it happening. He would understand the importance of that. She would not have even considered telling him were that not the case. Penny even wondered if, being a warrior, one who looked death in the face on a regular basis, such knowledge would not be so shocking, perhaps, as it was to her. Death was not the rarefied thing it was for Penny where it was the ‘non-issue’: never spoken about, never referred to. She had never seen a dead body. She did not know anyone who had. Here death was a part of life.

The most important point was that Halbarad would not be returning before the Fellowship left. His farewell with Aragorn alone made that patently obvious. If there had been any danger of his coming back to Rivendell before they left then she would not have told him. It would have broken her heart to do it, but she would not have said a word.

She wondered if Halbarad realised that. She suspected he probably did.

After lunch Gandalf took her gently by the arm and steered her into a lonely corridor. “Well, my dear, did you tell him?”

She looked at him, not sure she understood him. “Told who, Mithrandir?”

He smiled softly. “Halbarad. About Boromir. The real reason you have been avoiding him.”

Penny felt herself colouring slightly. While she had suspected Gandalf had partially guessed the reason behind her behaviour, it had never been openly discussed. He had certainly never mentioned the fact that it was anything other than what she had said to Elrond, Erestor, Legolas and himself that day.

He could see her discomfort. “Do not fear, Pen-ii, I would not ask you for the real reason, but you must have known I knew you were lying that time in Elrond’s study. Not that I blame you. You were left little choice but to agree to Legolas’s presumption.”

She nodded, still unsure of what to say.

“So then I take you told Halbarad?”

“In part, yes, but only in part.” She looked at him, worried now, wondering if he would disapprove. “I didn’t feel I had much choice, but you have to believe me I wouldn’t have done it if I thought there was any danger of him returning here before they leave. Even if he did I don’t think he would say anything to anyone about it or do anything. I hope I’ve judged his character well enough. I didn’t tell him everything or any more than I had to. Please don’t be angry with me, Gandalf.”

He sighed, “Ai, Pen-ii, my child. I am not angry. I well understand why you did so. It was why I had Elrond and Aragorn accompany me to the halls and give you some privacy: I had an inkling of what you might feel forced to do. And no, Halbarad will not return before they leave nor would he do anything, I do not think, in response to whatever it is you have told him. Just like the others who know of your situation, he understands the importance of not acting upon anything you may know or reveal even by accident...”

Penny interrupted him, “But I haven’t, Mithrandir! This is the first time, I promise! Only once or twice with you, perhaps, and none of those were too serious I do not think. You must believe me...”

He held up his hand. “Please, Pen-ii, you misunderstand me. I did not say you had let anything slip. I merely meant that, even if you did, none of those whom you might mention anything to would act upon it, no matter how great the temptation. They understand that the potential victory we may gain hangs on too thin a thread for anything to be changed without potentially dire consequences. They did not need me to tell them that. Yes, you have judged Halbarad right. Even so, Pen-ii, you must be careful, always, what you say and to whom. I know you do not need me to tell you that.”

“I know, Mithrandir. Le hannon. It means a lot to me that you understand and aren’t upset with me.”

He laughed softly. “Ah, my child. You carry a great burden. One that many could not cope with. You have done admirably well, do you not realise that? It has been noted and commented on. Many would not be able to help themselves and would simply talk and talk. At least you understand the importance of your silence.”

Penny flushed slightly, unsure of what to say or how to take this. She wondered who had said this about her. She wanted to feel pleased, honoured, but felt she really did not deserve it. She was only doing what had to be done. Not only that, it was taking all her willpower to do it.

Two days after Halbarad left, Elladan and Elrohir finally returned. When Penny saw them at supper that day she knew that it would not be long now.

She decided to take the opportunity to make the most of Gandalf while he was still around. She was worried the ‘transmission’ of thoughts might be tiring for him, and did not want to over tax him, but at the same time it was going to be some time before her Sindarin was even vaguely reasonable enough for her to conduct a decent conversation. She spoke to him about it, explaining she would like to learn a little from various people before he went. He reassured her that, while it was tiring if prolonged, she was welcome to make use of his ability to communicate and translate for her while he was still here. She insisted that he tell her if he began to tire or needed to be elsewhere and he assured her he would.

So in the next few days she, accompanied by Gandalf, listened to Arwen and Erestor describe Lothlorien, got Aragorn to speak to her a little of his travels in the south and his time in both Rohan and Gondor, as well as Elrond to tell her something of Gil-galad.

One of the most extraordinary hours was with Glorfindel who Penny found ambling along in a corridor one day. She managed to convey that she wanted to talk to him but needed to find Mithrandir first. Fortunately Gandalf was in a nearby antechamber chattering with Merry, Frodo and various elves.

“Mithrandir are you busy? If not, would you mind asking Glorfindel if he’s busy, and could I talk with him for a little bit?”

The question asked, Glorfindel made it clear he was free till dinner, which would be in an hour or so. He turned to Penny, a questioning smile on his lips, wondering what all this was about.

“Glorfindel, would you mind telling me a little about Gondolin?”

It was a simple request, one which Glorfindel had not been asked in a very long time. It pleased him enormously that he would be able to relate something so easily and yet give Penny such obvious delight.

He led her out into the corridor, down a few passageways, until they came to a large mural opposite which was a bench. It was of Gondolin.

“This is the best picture in Imladris of Gondolin, Pen-ii. The most accurate. Painted by Celebrimbor himself.”

Penny’s chin fell on the floor. “Celebrimbor!” She was in awe.

Then Glorfindel proceeded to point out buildings to her within the city’s walls: Turgon’s tower, the Hall of the Gods, the Halls of Marriage, Tuor’s house and much more. Penny had tears in her eyes as he spoke with obvious passion and delight about ceremonies, feasts and daily life. He spoke movingly of Ecthelion, Tuor and Turgon, of the city’s beauty and that of its elves.

“It was a great loss.” It was all she could think of to say and it seemed woefully inadequate.

Glorfindel nodded, his eyes suddenly wet with tears. “Yes indeed, Pen-ii.”

Later that evening, in one of the smaller antechambers, Penny found herself sitting with Gandalf and Elrond. Arwen, Aragorn and Elladan were to one side, chattering and laughing. Glorfindel and Erestor were deep in conversation with Legolas. Boromir, Elrohir, Frodo and Gloín were crowded round the fire listening as Boromir related some tale of battle and heroic deeds from the south.

Gandalf was telling Penny of places he had visited, things he had seen, with Elrond adding comments now and then. Elrohir moved over to join Legolas, since Boromir, Frodo and Gloín had left to go the Hall of Fire and find the rest of the hobbits and dwarves.

Penny took the opportunity of a pause in Gandalf’s descriptions to say quietly, “Gandalf?”

He raised an eyebrow at her.

“How did I get here? Do you have any idea?”

There was a silence. Elrond exchanged a surprised glance with Gandalf as her question was translated.

“It’s just it worries me, you know. I try not to think about it too much, really, because it’s kind of scarey to think about.” She could feel her voice cracking, was vaguely aware that conversation in the room had quietened as Gandalf had translated. Arwen and Elladan, standing close by, had seen the expression on their father’s face. In turn, Erestor noticed them fall silent and had looked to see the cause. Then, one by one, those with him quietened and also turned to see what was going on.

“I don’t know how I got here. I... I could just as easily disappear in an instant too, couldn’t I?” Gandalf translated, but before he had even finished she continued, “Alternatively I could be stuck here, couldn’t I? I might... I might never go home.”

She looked at Gandalf desperately. He was the only one who might be able to give her any answer, any clue as to what had happened to her. There was silence in the room as Gandalf relayed her words to Elrond, all eyes turned to her now, though she did not notice it.

“I cannot answer you, Pen-ii. You are a mystery to me, to all of us. If I knew I would tell you, would have already done so.”

Penny nodded, a tear rolling down her cheek. “Thing is, Mithrandir...” Her voice fell to a near whisper, “I’m not sure I want to go home. There is little for me there. Here... here I find I’m more free to be myself than I’ve ever been in my life. I don’t know if that makes any sense to you at all.” She could not look at him, struggling to stop the tears from falling. “But how can I settle here, how can I make a life for myself if I know that, at any moment, I might suddenly find myself back in London, back in my flat, with umpteen messages on my answer-phone from mum wondering where the hell I’ve been all this time?”

Gandalf was a little baffled by this last bit and looked bemused. Penny smiled sadly, “Oh, you know mothers. Always fussing. ‘When are you going to meet a nice man, Penny?’ ‘When am I going to have grandkids, Penny?’ ‘Why don’t you get out more, Penny?’” She sighed as another tear brimmed over onto her cheek. “She means well, but she drives me crazy.”

“Do you not miss her?” He asked it very gently, not wishing to distress her.

Penny felt the lump in her throat. She could not speak, but nodded and burst into tears.

Arwen, laying a hand on Aragorn’s arm as she stood, came over to her, crouching beside her and holding her as she sobbed. The faces in the room were filled with a sadness and an empathy for Penny’s fate. There was nothing they could do for her, nor could they begin to imagine what this must be like for her: to live on a knife edge, never knowing if you were here for good, or if not, when you might suddenly be pulled out of it all. Her utter loneliness and alone-ness struck them very forcefully in that moment. A few had tears in their eyes.

A day or two later, when Anduril was finished, Aragorn showed it to Penny since he knew now that she had an interest. He beckoned her into an antechamber as she walked past the open door one evening. Gandalf was there, with Elrond, Elrohir and Erestor, all of them sharing a post-dinner flagon of wine.

She dared not bring her hand anywhere near it, not after her experience with Halbarad’s sword, but she admired it as closely as she dared as he pulled it from the scabbard hanging from his belt and laid it on the table for her to see.

It gleamed in the torchlight. She could see the pattern within the blade of the runes and, in their centre, the seven stars between sun and moon. She felt a lump in her throat.

She looked at Aragorn. “Can I ask you to take it to the window, into the moonlight?” Aragorn looked bemused but followed her request.

As she followed and watched she could see the gleam in the blade change: it did indeed gleam with a cold light, almost as if from within. “This is so amazing,” she murmured.

“What is it, Pen-ii?” Gandalf was asking.

She turned to him. “It was said that in the light of the sun it gleamed red and it gleamed cold in the moon: Anduril, the reforged blade of Narsil.”

Aragorn gasped. “I can never get used to this. I only publicly named it ‘Anduril’ this very afternoon.” He shook his head, smiling gently. “Pen- ii, you are strange indeed.”

“When do you leave?”

Her question took them all a little by surprise.

“Well,” she continued, “Elladan and Elrohir arrived a few days ago, didn’t they? They are the last of the scouts. They came over the Misty Moutains and found nothing, isn’t that so?”

Elrohir, Elrond, Erestor and Aragorn exchanged a look as Gandalf translated.

“You know, it doesn’t matter how many times it happens, I still can not get used to it.” Erestor was shaking his head with an expression of bewilderment and astonishment.

“Just out of interest, Pen-ii, what do you know of what the scouts found?” Elrond’s voice was calm as he spoke, his eyes full of quiet curiosity.

“Eight dead horses and a cloak.”

There was nothing else they could do but laugh softly at her accurate response. It was so bizarre and utterly strange.

“And what do you say happened to the Nazgul?”

“What do you say, Lord Elrond?”

Elrond smiled and nodded, “Well answered, Pen-ii. Well, after much discussion we say they have fled to Mordor, without raiment or steeds. I will not ask you to confirm or deny that, though I do not doubt you could tell me if we are correct. In answer to your question: they leave in four days.”

She nodded, feeling her throat tighten very suddenly. They could see the tears in her eyes. “Then you have chosen the last two, haven’t you?”

Elrond nodded but said nothing.

Penny realised they were waiting for her to tell them herself. “Razanur and Kalimac.” She did not give them time to answer her. “If you will excuse me,” she muttered hoarsely, bowing a little and leaving the room.

Aragorn had moved to follow her but Gandalf held him back. “Leave her. We know this is important work we do. So does she. It begins. It all begins as of four days from now and everything then hangs in the balance and by a mere thread. She is as aware of this as we are. Leave her to her thoughts. We have much to think on ourselves.”

She found one of her favourite spots in the gardens: a small clearing with a fountain in its middle and benches and flowerbeds (now bereft of flowers in late December) round about it. She let herself weep freely for once. Better to get it out in private than be going off on one in public.

Wow. She had known it was coming, that it would be soon, but even so.

She would miss them all, the hobbits especially, and Gandalf. He had been her lifeline. She would be utterly bereft in terms of communication without him.

She could not really take in the sheer enormity of what lay before them. She knew that within a matter of a month they would have faced one of the greatest evils in Middle-earth after Sauron himself and Gandalf would be dead. Her brain just refused to process it. Balrogs existed. There was one, living and breathing, and under the mountains she could see all round her right now.

Things like that she still could not accept. She would not really accept orcs till she met one face to face, she knew. She also sincerely hoped she would never be in that position.

It was still unbelievable: that Mordor was REAL, that Saruman and Uruk-hai were REAL, that Sauron was...

No, she knew he was real. She remembered once more that terror she had felt, if only briefly, when Gandalf had mentioned him to her the day the scouts had left.

Even as she remembered it, it hit home: how serious and huge this was. This was no game, no story, no fantasy. People’s lives were at stake. It was a case of fight or be consumed by something so horrific, so terrifying that you could not even imagine it in your worst nightmare. The courage of the Nine Walkers struck her in that moment also. They had pledged to walk straight into the centre, the source of that horror.

Her brain reeled.

Since it was generally known in Imladris that the nine were leaving, though perhaps not all knew the exact nature of their mission (though it was obviously very serious indeed given who would be accompanying the hobbits), it was easy enough for Penny to join in with the goodbyes.

Tea every afternoon became a near ritual now. Gimli was there every day for it as well as Gandalf, as ever, but now Aragorn, Boromir or even Legolas would make an occasional appearance. Given what Legolas thought of tea it all spoke volumes. Thankfully these last three never all came together on the same day so Penny did not have to deal with being in a room where the only other people there were the entire Fellowship and Bilbo. She really would NOT have been able to cope with that, she did not think.

However there was once, a day or two before the Fellowship were due to leave, when she was walking along a corridor past an open door and heard the sound of metal clanging against metal. Turning her head at the noise she saw, inside the room, Legolas leaning against the wall, his arms folded, one knee bent with his foot against the wall as he watched something that was happening inside the room. He looked up, saw her, smiled and beckoned her to enter.

She caught her breath as she saw Aragorn and Boromir sparring with Merry and Sam. Tables, benches and chairs had been pushed to the sides to make space and Pippin and Frodo were to one side, sat on top of a table, their legs dangling, watching and obviously waiting their turn. Both Aragorn and Boromir had their tunics off and had rolled up the sleeves of their undertunics to the elbow. The hobbits were in leggings and shirts only – their waistcoats and jackets in a pile beside Pippin and Frodo.

Penny could feel her breathing quicken slightly. It was the first time she had really been reminded of their ability as fighters, as warriors. She thought of Boromir’s stand in Osgiliath before he left Gondor to head north; she considered what Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas would achieve just at Helm’s Deep, let alone afterwards.

Penny was not sure she could cope with this. She thought of the wolves they would face only a few days after they had left Rivendell, the orcs in Mordor, even worse on the Pelennor and at the Black Gate. With the skills he was being taught, Merry would stab the Witchking himself.

As she watched the blades clash, thrusts parried, the concentration and effort being shown by the four sparring in the middle of this large room she felt her heart in her throat.

She cast a glance at Legolas. The expression on her face told him he had done the wrong thing inviting her to come and watch. He looked concerned suddenly and straightened up. She came him a quick smile and briskly turned to go out of the door only to near crash straight into Gandalf and Gimli coming in.

For the briefest of moments, then, she was alone with the entire Fellowship.

Something inside her brain screamed at her to run. Instead she smiled as best she could to Gandalf and Gimli, greeting them both, and then walked past them into the corridor.

Gandalf, saying something to Gimli, followed her out, Legolas behind him, and quickly caught her up.

“Pen-ii? Are you quite well?”

She turned to him as he touched her arm, could see Legolas standing beside him looking at her anxiously. She did her best to smile, though they could see she was distressed.

“I’m fine. Really. It’s just I forget sometimes... forget how real it is, forget you are all warriors and trained in fighting. I am not used to it even in my time, let alone here when I know your stories and what you will face. Forgive me, I didn’t mean to worry you. Just a little too much to cope with, that was all. Don’t let me disturb you. Carry on.” Before they could respond she pulled away from them, walked briskly down the corridor and turned a corner.

Gandalf threw a look at Legolas, his eyebrow raised. “What was she doing there, Legolas?”

“My fault, I fear. I realise my mistake now. She was passing, heard the noise and glanced toward it. I caught her eye and beckoned for her to come and see what the noise was about. I did not think it through, Mithrandir, forgive me. I forget she is unused to such things.”

“Not only that, Legolas. We do not know what we face ahead of us but she certainly does. It may be yet that the kuduk will be in dire need of the skills they are learning now. There will be war and battles ahead. Of that I have no doubt. Seeing us, or some of us, practising or even learning fighting skills would only remind her all the more of what we will witness and be party to.” He shook his head, still looking in the direction she had disappeared in. “She should not have seen it, Legolas, but no matter. What’s done is done.” With that the two returned to the sparring practise.

At last the day came. She knew it was today. She had been counting. She wanted to say something, anything, if only to Gandalf, but knew there was nothing she could say without giving something away so in the end she said nothing at all. She could not bear to look at Boromir. She gave up all pretence in that regard.

The hobbits had sensed her sadness at their imminent departure and, looking on her as their ‘fellow stranger in Rivendell’, did their best to try and amuse her. Pippin was busy pulling faces at her all the way through lunch till she could not help herself but start giggling. Pippin beamed, pleased he had got such a response from her.

That afternoon at tea Gandalf translated as Merry said, “You know, Pen-ii, you must look after Bilba when we are gone. He will be glad of the company and we know he will be in good hands with you.”

Bilbo muttered something about not needing looking after and that he had managed perfectly well for many years in Imladris without any help or interference, “thank you very much you cheeky young kuduk.”

For her part Penny blushed. She knew very well Merry was saying it as much to cheer her up and possibly Bilbo. Given Bilbo was entirely surrounded by elves he did not need her in the least. She suspected, rightly, that this was in fact a way of getting Bilbo to look out for her once they were gone, and not the other way round.

She smiled at Merry. “I will do my best, if he will let me, Kali. With the elves of Imladris at his beck and call I hardly think he will have need of me, though.”

Frodo’s eyes twinkled slightly. “True enough, Lady Pen-ii, but Bilba has insisted on taking over from my breakfast Sindarin duties with you.” He grinned as they laughed.

As supper neared and the inevitable departure neared also, Penny could feel her stomach tightening into knots. She could not really eat, just pushed the little food on her plate round and round a few times. Aragorn, Gandalf and Legolas, all sat near her, could see it and exchanged a glance, though they said nothing.

In the Hall of Fire she watched as groups came forward and said their farewells. The Fellowship were dressed and ready for the off: cloaked and booted, their weapons at their sides. She could see the hobbits, Bilbo in particular, were near to tears as they said goodbye to each other. Similarly moving were the fond farewells between Gimli and the dwarves and Legolas and the two Mirkwood elves who had accompanied him.

At first Penny held back, unable to keep the emotions welling within her under control. Then Gandalf, looking up and catching her eye, beckoned her over with a kind smile. She took a deep breath, stepped over to them, and found herself in close proximity to and entirely surrounded by the Fellowship.

Gandalf stood beside Penny as Gimli and then the hobbits took their farewells of her. Gimli was most courteous, as ever, and bowed low. The hobbits, each in turn insisted on kissing her hand. Sam said that he wanted her to look after the cabbages he had planted, while Merry and Pippin simply grinned at her and said they envied her staying here amongst the elves and not to take too much notice of Bilbo.

“He is not nearly as cantankerous and fussy as he seems, Pen-ii, and he has taken to you very well, you know. Do keep him company for afternoon tea every day, won’t you?”

She promised them she would and could not keep the tears from filling her eyes. Dear God, they had no idea what lay ahead of them. She was trying not to think about it, refusing to let it all overwhelm her, but in truth she felt very much like she had done when she had first arrived in Rivendell. The panic, fear and distress was rising with every passing second, though she was doing her best to smother it.

Of the four only Frodo showed some sign of what lay ahead. As he said his farewell to her, insisting that, when next they met, he would expect her to be fluent in Sindarin, she could not help but notice his face seemed a little drawn, his expression a little stiff, and his eyes a little anxious.

She hesitated then murmured, “May Elbereth protect you, Maura.”

He stopped, looking at her for a moment with an intensity that startled her, though it passed as quickly as it had arrived. He smiled.

“Le hannon, Pen-ii.”

As the hobbits moved away she muttered to Gandalf, “I need a little air. I will be in the corridor for a few moments, this is becoming difficult for me.”

“I understand, Pen-ii, but you cannot just yet.” Legolas and Aragorn had turned to her now.

Since the dwarves, hobbits and Boromir were occupied, the four took the opportunity to step to one side a little so they could talk more privately. Both Aragorn and Legolas kissed Penny’s hand and bowed.

“I trust things may be a little easier for you once we have left, Lady Pen- ii,” Legolas was saying quietly.

“Yes and no, Lord Legolas. Yes and no.” He nodded.

Aragorn spoke, “You will be well looked after her, have no fear. Lady Arwen has assured me of it. Lord Elrond himself, also.”

She nodded, “I know, Lord Aragorn, you do not need to tell me. I’ve already been well looked after. Far more than I deserve I feel.”

There was a brief silence till Penny said, “I do not know what to say. I want to say so much. I cannot find the words that would be suitable given what I know lies ahead of you. Nothing I can think of saying won’t give something away. Goheno nin. May Elbereth protect you all, and Eru guide you.”

They smiled then. “That was well said, Pen-ii. That will do. It was more than enough,” Aragorn assured her and the other two agreed.

“I... I will be thinking about you all. Please forgive me...” She suddenly looked at the three of them very earnestly, her voice dipping so it was barely audible. “Goheno nin. Saes. There are many things I would have warned you about, that it has taken all my strength of will to not tell you about. Please don’t think badly of me when things happen that, if I had told you, you might have been able to prevent.”

There was silence for a moment. It was Aragorn who spoke, his voice quiet and serious.

“We understand, Pen-ii. We do not blame you, nor will we.”

“Le hannon, Aragorn.” She barely managed to say it her throat was so tight, her voice so shaky with distress.

Legolas and Aragorn murmured “navaer”, bowed slightly, and left her with Gandalf.

There then came the moment she had dreaded for two months. Boromir. He had made his farewells of most of those in the room, spending longest with the dwarves, perhaps, of all those there to see them off. Now he stepped towards Penny. His face was impassive, his eyes kind and gentle. He kissed her hand and wished her well.

“I hope, perhaps, I might see you in Minas Tirith one day, my lady. It is a fair city and it would please me to be able to show you its beauty.”

Her throat tightened. Her eyes filled. She had to bite her lips to stop them from quivering or a sob escaping them. She nodded dumbly, utterly bereft of speech at the thought that he would, in fact, never see Gondor again.

He smiled, sadly, on seeing the tears in her eyes. He left her, not wishing to distress her more.

She looked at Gandalf, pleading, barely controlling herself, but begging with him that she could leave. He nodded, well understanding what she wanted. He held a wizened hand to her face.

/Ai, my child. It is hard, is it not? You have done well this evening. I know this must be difficult for you. Do not think I do not sense a lot of what you are going through. You have told me much you did not think to tell me at all. But, come, that is of no importance now. What is to be shall be. It is written./

Her tears were falling, slowly and silently, as his voice rumbled in her head. He smiled, sadly but kindly.

/Take care of yourself, Pen-ii. As Aragorn said you will be well looked after and perhaps in no safer place through all this than here in Imladris. I shall see you again. You know it, and so do I. And do not worry, Pen- ii: if we succeed, any loss will have been worth it. They would all tell you this themselves, even were it their own lives that they would lose. Know this and be comforted a little. When you can, when you have the Sindarin, talk to Elrond, tell him what you know. It will help you to share the burden with him./

She nodded, still too distraught to be able to speak.

He spoke openly now. “I must go, Pen-ii. The road is a long one.”

Her voice cracked and trembled as she spoke, “Navaer, Mithrandir.”

“Navaer, Pen-ii.”

Then, as he turned to go, on a sudden impulse, she hugged him; threw her arms about his neck and whispered, “Thank you, Gandalf. Thank you for everything. I don’t know what I would have done without you. Gone mad, I suspect. I shall miss you.”

There were raised eyebrows from those who saw this, not least from Elrond and Aragorn. Only the hobbits ever had the sheer audacity to treat Mithrandir like this.

Gandalf, though, laughed softly and, as Penny pulled away from him, he gently kissed her brow. “You are very welcome, my dear.”

She watched, the tears falling silently still, as, one by one, they left the Hall of Fire and made their way to the main entrance of the halls, Gandalf and Elrond being the last to leave.

Well, these are the last three chapters. Thank you to all who have reviewed and read so far and the warm response you have given this fic. I will start posting the sequel (Okay, NOW Panic!) as of tomorrow.

Chapter 25 - “To Balrog or Not To Balrog”

It was all very odd in the event, Penny decided afterwards, almost like a dream.

Elrohir had taken her to join everyone heading outside to see the Nine Walkers leave. The entirety of Imladris had been there, standing quietly among the trees, watching the Fellowship as they walked down to the gate and then out towards their fates.

Penny wept quietly and long as she saw Boromir pass her by, unable to quite believe that she would never see him again, that she knew what lay ahead of him, lay ahead of them all. In so many ways none of it felt real, and yet it so patently was it made her ache inside.

She went straight to her chambers, quiet and tense, almost numb in some ways. Elrohir and Elladan, who had been standing nearby, exchanged a glance as she had murmured her apologies and scurried off into the night. It was hard for all of them to know the terrible danger their friends and loved ones were walking into, and it seemed strange but entirely understandable that this woman, whom they barely knew, should find it just as difficult as they, if not more so.

Afterwards she was quiet and withdrawn, even though she fought against it. She knew there was nothing she could do or could have done, that indeed if she had tried she would have put the downfall of Sauron himself in jeopardy, but she still felt wracked with guilt.

She grieved for Boromir, too, though she felt it to be utterly ridiculous given she barely knew the man. She could not get him out of her head. Gandalf’s fall, while terrible, did not trouble her so much precisely because she knew he would return, even though the Fellowship would miss his guidance and leadership terribly.

No, it was Boromir that held her in her melancholy.

For the next few days, since she still was not riding, Arwen would come to meet her after Erestor’s lesson each day and take her to a quiet antechamber where they could spend the morning alone. Penny could not communicate, could not unburden the pain and distress she felt, but to be able to sit with someone with whom it did not matter if she lost herself in her thoughts, and with whom she did not need to pretend to be more indifferent to the Fellowship’s departure, was a comfort in some ways. She did not let herself collapse completely in Arwen’s presence, though, well aware that the man she loved was among the Nine and to have Penny weeping and wailing at his possible fate would not be helpful, to say the least.

When not with Arwen, she would walk or garden: anything to be alone with her thoughts and not having to put a brave, false face on.

She was aware that a few times those who knew about her situation clearly tried to ask her if everything was alright. She even suspected that Elrond might already be waiting for her to tell him more now the Fellowship had left, but she had no Gandalf now: she was back to the odd word and hand gestures for communication. She thanked them for their kindness but could say no more. Not that she wanted to straight away, even if she could have done.

After a few days, she felt she was better able to control herself and behave more normally in front of Mireth, Eleniel, Celebdor or Lindir and the others. She was calculating in her head now, trying to remember what happened when, and she would study the calendar on Erestor’s wall, much to his interest. Even though she was better able to cover it, her thoughts were constantly with the Fellowship and what they may be facing right at that moment, or what they would face in a week, a fortnight, a month or more. It would not leave her and, especially when alone with those who knew her situation, it left its mark upon her.

From that first following morning, though, Bilbo became a new friend. They had got to know each other relatively well in the past two months, but up till now she had been closer to the younger hobbits since she saw them more often.

Bilbo was there at breakfast that morning, and at every subsequent breakfast afterwards, just as he had promised Frodo he would be: testing her on her Sindarin vocabulary and exercises for the day’s lesson with Erestor. He had made tea in a small pot and they shared it between them. She made it clear that tomorrow she would make it.

Bilbo shook his head. “No, Pen-ii. I will make tea for breakfast. You make it for afternoon tea. You promised Kali you would join me every day, and I hope you will be able to continue to do so.” He spoke slowly and carefully, laying special emphasis on the words that would give the meaning of what he was saying to her, or else words he knew she knew already.

She nodded, pleased to have someone with whom to share the burden of the hobbits’ departure a little, and so every afternoon they would meet in the kitchen, load up a tray with a cake or two and a pot of tea and commandeer the same small antechamber together.

Often someone would come and join them. Elladan and Elrohir were regular visitors as well as Erestor. Penny would listen to the chatter, or perhaps continue her sewing. Occasionally Bilbo would have a book with him and would read bits out to her: poetry, from what she could tell, or ballads. He would then try and explain the stories in simpler language for her. If Erestor was there he would join in, and she would have both of them talking to her at once. Some of it she got, most of it was completely over her head, but she was touched nevertheless that Bilbo was making such an effort with her. She suspected it helped him to keep his mind off things a little too.

Bilbo was quiet, like her, that morning, and for the following days. In fact, all of Imladris seemed subdued for many days after the Fellowship left. Everyone was aware something momentous had happened, and the entire place was filled with an underlying tension as if now waiting for something to occur as a consequence. Penny was aware of it – of how much more quiet things were than previously – and it made everything worse: they were waiting for they knew not what, whereas she was waiting for things she knew all too well.

“I am worried about her,” Erestor was saying.

Elrond had come to see him in his study. Elladan and Elrohir had left that morning to patrol the outskirts of Elrond’s realm once more, and Glorfindel would be leaving soon also. All three had expressed some concern at Penny’s demeanour since she seemed so quiet and troubled, particularly when she was alone with any of them and could let her guard down. Erestor felt he was speaking for all four of them as he spoke to Lord Elrond.

Elrond nodded. “I know. Elladan spoke to me about it before he left, also. Mithrandir said he would tell her to speak to me but she has yet to do so.”

“She may not feel she has the Sindarin to do so.”

“Does she have the Sindarin to do so?”

“Well, no, but she could make herself relatively understood, I am sure.”

Elrond sat silently in thought for a moment. “Erestor, do you think we should force things a little? Perhaps if you, I and Arwen were to question her?”

Erestor’s face clouded a little. “I am not so sure, Elrond. It may upset her more. Do not forget we do not know what it is she knows. If it is dark indeed, then...” He trailed off.

Elrond sighed. “I feel we must do something. She needs help. It is only communication, or the lack thereof, that is the main barrier here. Mithrandir was a great support to her.”

“Yes, I think she misses his presence greatly.”

Elrond nodded, murmuring his agreement. He considered the matter, then said, “Well, we shall leave things be for a while, but if she cannot shake off her distress I think we shall have to do something. It is fairly apparent her thoughts are constantly with the Nine Walkers and whatever they may be facing, though she covers it well enough in front of others, and even to have to do that – to have to put on a brave face, as it were – must be just as wearing as the knowledge itself. It can be difficult enough for the Eldar or Gandalf to have the kind of knowledge she bears. She is a mortal, she is young and entirely unused to it. It may break her if she tries to struggle with this all by herself. Mithrandir could see that, and he was right.”

So they left her for a little while longer, but they kept an eye on her all the same since the strain was beginning to show.

Halbarad noticed it too when he returned nearly three weeks after the Fellowship had left. He could see the sadness in her eyes, her stillness and quietness. Given what she had told him as he had left, he could well understand why now.

She was pleased to see him, though. With Gandalf gone, even though she could not communicate well to Halbarad he was a great comfort for her just by being around.

He had arrived in the afternoon while she was sitting with Mireth in an antechamber, sewing. As soon as he had bathed, he went looking for her. Elrond had spoken to him, told him something of his, Erestor’s and Arwen’s concern, and had wondered if Halbarad might be able to talk to her.

Even if he had not spoken to Elrond, though, Halbarad wanted to see her, see how she was coping. What she had shared with him that day when he had left had preyed on his mind the entire time he had been away. He still could not quite take in the fact that Boromir would die, but even putting that aside, the more he considered, or tried to imagine, what it must be like for her to have such knowledge, the more he worried about her. He had said as much to Elrond and he had seen Elrond shared exactly those same concerns.

“She is coping very well, Halbarad, make no mistake. We are all thinking of them, we are all quiet and subdued, so in some sense her behaviour is not unusual. Added to which it is clear to all that she had become close to Gandalf, and the kuduk, while they were here, so her distractedness will seem entirely understandable to all here.” Elrond paused for a moment before continuing. “No, it is when she is alone with those of us who know her story, Halbarad, when she can relax a little and not worry so much about covering her feelings. You can see it in her. I can feel it very strongly in her, as can Arwen too. It is not fear or worry as much as utter preoccupation, deep distress and despair.”

Halbarad nodded, his face serious. “I have thought much about this, Elrond, and it has occurred to me, as I imagine it has to you, that she knows some aspects of this in detail.”

“Yes, indeed.”

“You remember the detail she had of the Council? How she knew who had said what to whom? How she knew even the smallest details of the kuduk, Bilba’s party and their travels to Bree? If she knows the story of the Nine Walkers in that much detail...” He broke off, raising his head to look straight at Elrond as he continued, “Then she will indeed be living near enough every day with them.”

Elrond nodded, his expression grave. “I am well aware of this. As are Erestor and Arwen. Glorfindel, Elladan and Elrohir were also saying the same thing before they left.”

“Yes, I met Elrohir. We discussed it a little.”

“Oh, yes?”

“Only because I asked of news, if they had left. When he said they had, I asked how Pen-ii was doing. He told me.”

“I see. Well, then, you are already aware of our concerns. I can see you share them also.”

Yes, he did indeed. He did not say to Elrond that she had told him something of what she knew. She would no doubt tell Elrond herself when she felt the time was right. He knew that she had told him only because he had been so angered by her behaviour. She had told him only to correct his view of her. Otherwise she would have never told him at all. Of that much, Halbarad was certain.

He was nearing the antechamber door when it opened and Mireth stepped through it, holding a sewing basket under one arm. She looked up on seeing him and smiled.

“Well met, Halbarad. It is good to see you back once more.”

“Well met, Lady Mireth, and I thank you it is good be back in Imladris once more. Is Lady Pen-ii in there with you?”

“She is indeed, but you must excuse me; I cannot stay, I have to go and meet Celebdor.”

Halbarad flashed her a knowing grin. “Ah, yes. Of course, Mireth.”

She blushed a little, smiled and hurried off. Halbarad, chuckling, pushed the door open.

Penny was sitting at a window seat, her sewing in her lap, staring out at the light dusting of snow on the ground. She had a shawl about her shoulders, and Halbarad could see part of her face since she was sitting sideways on to him. Whatever mask she may have worn for Mireth, or possibly even with Elrond, Erestor or Arwen, there was none there now as he looked at her. He could see her brow furrowed, the skin round her eyes tight, her jaw set as she stared off into the distance as if utterly lost in her thoughts. He recognised that look: she had worn it all the way to Imladris.

Halbarad, one hand on the door handle still, sighed.

She started a little, turned and, as a smile spread across her face, he could see that the mask was up suddenly.

“Halbarad! God, I’m pleased to see you! Mae govannen.”

He grinned at her. “Mae govannen, Pen-ii.”

He stood there for a moment, not moving, as they looked at each other, both suddenly thinking of the last time they had seen each other and the information that had passed between them.

“Pen-ii...” Halbarad began.

He could get no further because she was standing and walking quickly across to him, throwing her arms about his waist and hugging him, pressing her cheek against his chest.

He laughed slightly in surprise and was still smiling as she pulled back from him a little and looked up at him with a decidedly sheepish expression on her face. “Forgive me, Halbarad. I am pleased I see you,” she said faltering in Sindarin. “After that I talked. When you left, the day you left. You understand my story. You understand.”

He nodded. He did indeed. “I understand very well, Pen-ii, and I am glad you told me.” He walked her over to the window seat once more and sat opposite her. He regarded her for a moment. “Pen-ii, how are you? How are you coping with all this?”

She did not understand his questions, but at last she realised what he was asking and smiled at him, patting his knee, “I am well, Halbarad.” Then she said in English, “Really, I’m fine. Honestly. It’s hard, sure, but I’ll cope. I’m fine.”

Halbarad could tell what she was saying just by the tone in her voice: trying to convince herself and him and failing completely. He would not press her, though.

They went for a walk then, even though the chill of winter was upon them. They reached a little bench hidden in the trees, and Halbarad indicated for them to sit.

He was worried. Her silence, her entire bearing, reminded him so much of how she had been in that week when they had travelled from Bree to Imladris alone, when he had seen her deteriorate in front of his eyes as she struggled to cope with what she was going through. He had to say something.

“Pen-ii, is everything well? You seem quiet, withdrawn. I am worried for you.”

No response.

“You are thinking of them, are you not?”

She did not understand him.

“You. Thinking.” He tapped his head. Then said, “The Nine Walkers: Aragorn, kuduk...” He hesitated before saying, “Boromir.”

He saw her eyes fill, her gaze then fall to her lap, as she nodded. He took her hand and squeezed it a little. A gasp, a soft sob, and a tear upon her cheek told him of the pain she was feeling. He pulled her to him, holding her gently as she wept quietly.

“Ai, Pen-ii. I cannot know what this must be like for you, nor is there anything I can say to help you.” He pulled back from her, holding her by the shoulders as he looked into her eyes, his face serious. “Pen-ii, I will always be your friend. Friend. You understand? You can tell me anything. You, talk, me. I am your friend.”

She nodded and smiled gratefully at him, “Le hannon, Halbarad. It means a lot to me. Really, it does. Le hannon.”

He returned her smile. “Elrond is worried, you know. Erestor and Lady Arwen also. You need to talk, Pen-ii.” She was looking at him, brows furrowed, trying to understand him. “You, talk, Elrond. Mithrandir said to you to talk to Elrond, did he not?”

She looked at him for a moment before nodding slowly, “Yes. Yes, he did. At least if I have understood you, and I think I have. Mithrandir did tell me to talk to Elrond.” She looked at Halbarad once more, considering. “You are right, Halbarad. Yes. Yes, I think I have to. I can’t do this alone. It’s too much. It’s overwhelming, really. I can’t stop thinking about it. That won’t stop, I don’t think, even if I do talk to Elrond, but at least then there’ll be two of us obsessed by it.” She smiled ruefully.

She knew Halbarad would not understand her, but she was grateful to be able to talk to him. Halbarad had been through it all with her, had been there from the very beginning and seen her through the worst patch yet. She did not really feel she could let go even in her own language to Arwen, Elrond or Erestor. She did not want to burden them. She guessed Elrond had spoken to Halbarad, though, and it was clear they were concerned about her.

She nodded. “I will talk Elrond,” she said in Sindarin.

Halbarad smiled and nodded. “Good, Pen-ii. You should. I am glad. It is the right thing to do.” He paused, wondering how he could make his next question be understood. “Do you want me to be there with you? When you talk to Elrond, do you want me with you?”

She guessed his question and the obvious relief in her face gave him his answer. He smiled once more. “I there with you, Pen-ii,” he said, keeping his Sindarin simple for her.

Thank God. She was SO grateful to him.

“Le hannon, Halbarad.”

He was smiling kindly at her, happy to be able to help in some small way. He was pleased she would talk, though he was now wondering what on earth he might learn from her.

They walked back to the halls and into supper.

After the meal Penny sat with Eleniel and Lindir in the Hall of Fire. She had noticed Halbarad pull Erestor and Elrond to one side after dinner. She could guess what they were talking about.

Sure enough, she soon noticed Arwen heading towards them. She smiled on seeing Penny look up and beckoned her over to her. Penny joined her and found Arwen leading her out, down corridors, and so to Elrond’s study.

Why was it every time one of these conversations took place it was in Elrond’s study?

Halbarad, Erestor and Elrond were already there, of course, seated by the fire and with goblets of wine. Penny was given a seat next to Halbarad and Elrond poured her a cup.

“You wish to talk, Pen-ii?” Elrond asked her at last after he had seated himself.

She was not sure she liked the idea of so many people being here, and yet Erestor and Arwen were friends now and had a right to know: as the chief advisor to Elrond and the betrothed to one of the Nine Walkers. She nodded at Elrond, looking a little nervously at the others.

“I don’t know where to begin, really.” She switched to Sindarin, “Not I talk everything. I talk a little.”

Elrond nodded. He had suspected she would relate only that which had already happened or would happen very soon.

Penny suddenly realised it might be useful to have a map. She had no way of asking for this. She looked at Erestor suddenly. “Erestor, do you have a map?”

He looked at her, his brows furrowed but a gentle smile on his face. “What is it you need, Pen-ii?”

She stood, going over to the huge bookcases that lined one entire wall. She patted the spines of a few books as she looked back to the four, watching her intently, “Like this perhaps?” She made a motion with her hands as if spreading something out flat in front of her, tracing her finger along something as she looked at it. Then, as if reading out names, she said, “Imladris, Emyn, Lothlorien, Gwathlo.” Then she did a circle motion to take in the entire ‘invisible’ map in front of her, “Eriador, Arda.”

Erestor nodded with a smile. He understood well enough, as did the others. Before he could stand, however, Elrond already had done so and moved to a cabinet behind his desk. He opened the doors revealing a pile of scrolls and rolled parchments. He examined one or two before he found the one he was looking for. He beckoned Penny over to the desk as he unrolled it while the others rose from their seats and came to stand round the desk with her.

Elrond and Erestor weighted down the four corners with a paperweight and three books. Halbarad fetched chairs for Arwen and Penny, though Penny did not sit. Instead she studied the map.

It showed all of Middle-earth from Arnor to Gondor. She quickly picked out Rivendell, Minas Tirith, the Anduin and Lothlorien. She was fascinated, especially at certain towns or villages that were marked on it that she had never heard of or knew existed in Arnor, Rohan and Gondor.

She looked to see if she could read Caradhras, or if the Dimrill Stair or Moria was marked on it. They were not.

She paused for a moment and looked round at them all. Arwen was sitting watching her, a kind smile on her face that belied the intense interest in her gaze. Penny suspected Arwen was hoping for any news of Aragorn she might have. Halbarad was leaning on the desk with both hands, his head turned towards her with an encouraging look on his face. Elrond was sat at his desk chair, a clear view of the map in front of him, sipping his wine and waiting patiently. Erestor was standing next to Arwen, his hand resting on the back of her chair.

She took a deep breath. Where was she going to begin? She was not even sure what they were expecting from her, what they wanted to hear. Gandalf had just said ‘tell Elrond what you know,’ so she decided to do simply that: relate the story and what would be happening right now.

They watched as she counted on her fingers. It took them a month to get to Lothlorien, they left three weeks ago, so... would they be in Moria yet or not? She could not remember exactly. Then it hit her: they were in Moria right now if not on their way to Lorien, in which case...

Oh God.

Gandalf.

She suddenly looked down, struggling to control the tears she felt well in her eyes, but not quickly enough for them not to have seen her expression change. She had clearly realised something had happened already or was about to: something very distressing indeed. The four exchanged concerned looks.

She recovered herself, took a deep breath to steady herself, and looked at them for a moment, then said in her broken Sindarin, “Nine they walk Lothlorien.”

Halbarad and Elrond exchanged a puzzled look.

“Lothlorien?” Erestor asked.

Penny nodded and repeated ‘Lothlorien.’ “They walked in mountains.”

Halbarad looked at Elrond once more, “Was a route decided before they left?”

Elrond shook his head. “No. There was some discussion about it all. Most seemed in favour of the Gap of Rohan.” He turned to Penny and pointed on the map, “Not here? Not the Gap of Rohan?”

She shook her head. “No. Saruman, he saw. Birds.” She hesitated since she did not know the Sindarin for wolf. “Many... umm... hounds. Not hounds.” It was the best she could come up with. She could see they were baffled by this so she repeated it. “Hounds... not hounds. Similar.”

Halbarad and Erestor looked at each other. “Do you think she means wolves? They have been gathering in great numbers, as you know,” Halbarad was asking.

Erestor was already at the bookshelves scanning for something. Finally he found what he was looking for, pulled a tome from the shelves and turned the pages. Eventually he came back to the desk and pointed at a finely detailed ink painting of a wolf. “Do you mean this, Pen-ii?”

She nodded. Erestor said “draug” two or three times till she repeated it.

Ever the teacher.

“Many wolf. Birds. Saruman he saw. Orthanc not good. Not they walked here,” and she pointed at the Gap of Rohan. They nodded. They understood.

“Mithrandir he talked Moria.” There was a gasp at this and, again, exchanged glances. Once more Halbarad confirmed what she had said. Penny nodded and repeated ‘Moria’ then continued, looking at Arwen as she did so, “Aragorn he talked ‘no.’ He talked Caradhras.”

More nods at this, though Halbarad looked a little concerned. “That would have been a difficult road at this time of year,” he said quietly. The others looked at him.

“Any road would have been a difficult one. They knew that even before they left, Halbarad,” Elrond replied levelly. “Continue, Pen-ii.”

“Nine they walk up Caradhras. Big snow Caradhras. Big big snow.” She said ‘kuduk’ and ‘edain’ and then shivered. They nodded. “Mithrandir he talked Moria again. Aragorn he talked no again. Hobbits cold. Big cold. Cannot walk on, forwards. They walk down Caradhras. Many wolf. No path, no other path. They walk... Moria.”

There were gasps and murmurs now.

“Are you saying they went through Moria, Pen-ii?” Elrond could barely believe it.

She nodded, saying, “Nine they walk down Caradhras. They walked Moria. They went in, inside Moria.”

They could see the expression on her face as she said it, knew that she knew well enough that that was no place anyone would willingly go. If she knew this from her stories, then it meant that they had indeed met evils there. Suddenly the weight of her knowledge revealed itself, even before she continued further.

Halbarad was shaking his head in disbelief. “Moria! What on earth possessed them to go there? I can not believe Mithrandir was advising them to do so.”

Arwen’s voice was quiet. “They would not have done so if they had any other choice, Halbarad. You know that. We all do.”

Penny was using her hands, indicating on the desk a spot and saying, “Door Moria.” They watched as she said ‘stream’ and traced a line from the door. Elrond nodded. “She means the...”

Penny then placed her hand on its side, across the line of the ‘stream’ she had traced on the desk. Then, pointing behind it, between it and the ‘position’ of Moria’s door she said, “Big water. Big big water ...umm ...lake. Lake here.”

There was a little confusion at this since there was no ‘big water’ or ‘lake’ in front of Moria’s Western gate. She repeated her action a few times till they simply had to accept what she was saying: that the flow of water had been stopped somehow and there was a body of water where she was saying it was.

She did not know the word for ‘monster.’ “In water...” She stopped. They could tell she was searching for a word. She looked at Erestor. “Not I know word,” she said. He nodded.

So there was something in the water. They were looking at her intently now.

“In water animal,” she repeated and then she made a grabbing motion and said ‘Maura.’ “Animal,” grab motion, “hold Maura.”

Elrond had his forehead in one hand, Erestor’s grip on the back of the chair was tight and Halbarad was not looking at her. They could not fully understand but they all realised the significance of Frodo being the target of this whatever-it-was. Only Arwen kept her gaze on Penny, her face betraying nothing.

“Ban,” Penny said while making cutting motions. “Not knife... err..”

“Sword?”

“Yes, Halbarad. I thank you. Sword. Ban sword, he cut in water animal.”

Halbarad nodded.

“Nine they ran inside Moria door. In water animal break door. Nine not out Moria. Not,” she made a turning motion as if to come back the other way.

Halbarad said quietly, “They were trapped. They had no choice but go on.”

Faces were pale, jaws tight as they realised what they were listening to. Again Penny paused, looking at them, and they knew from the anxiety now clear in her eyes that what she had told them was not the half of it.

“Three days? Four days?” she was saying, “They walk.”

They could see tears in her eyes now. Halbarad was looking at her, never taking his eyes off her, as he suddenly realised she was finding this very difficult. He smiled gently at her and nodded, urging her to continue, that it would be all right, that they could cope with whatever she was going to tell them.

She nodded in reply and said quietly, her voice shaking a little now as the reality of what she was describing hit home to her, “Orcs. Many many orcs in Moria.” She glanced up at Halbarad to see he was looking at Elrond, both aghast. “Many,” she repeated.

She did not know ‘die’ or ‘tomb,’ so decided not to try and tell them about Balin. That could wait for another time.

“In Moria...”

She could feel her throat tightening. She could have no idea how they would take this, only that it would mean so much more to them than to her, would be terrifying and all too real for them.

“In Moria...”

She was like a stuck record, the tears filling her eyes, looking desperately at them. She really was not sure she should tell them this. She looked at Elrond, pleading with him, then at Halbarad, and he could see the fear and uncertainty in her eyes.

“Please, Pen-ii. What is it? ‘In Moria’ what?” Elrond said quietly, encouragingly.

At last she said in English, “Durin’s Bane.”

Erestor and Elrond exchanged a stunned look. Had she just tried to say what they thought she had tried to say?

Erestor came round to the other side of Arwen’s chair, faced Penny and said, “In Moria there is a great evil, though what it is is unknown. Durin’s Bane. Is this what you are saying, Pen-ii? The big evil of Moria?”

Penny repeated the word ‘evil,’ not understanding it.

“Yes, ‘evil’.” Halbarad nodded, “Wolf, orc, Sauron, Saruman, Nazgûl, Mordor. Evil. All evil.”

Penny nodded, she understood now and repeated ‘evil’ at them.

Erestor tried again. “In Moria big evil, yes?”

Penny looked at him, turning a little pale, and what he read in her face made him gasp. Shocked, he looked at Elrond who murmured, “May Eru protect them.”

Penny could not hold back the tears, though she tried. They spilled silently down her cheeks as she quietly sat in the seat she had not yet used. She really was not sure this was a good idea, but she whispered one word.

“Balrog.”

The only sound for several seconds was Arwen’s gasp as she clapped her hand to her mouth. All four looked slowly at each other, unable to register what she had just said.

Arwen’s face was pale, her eyes wet.

“Elbereth,” murmured Halbarad.

“This cannot be,” Elrond was saying quietly. “Surely we misheard.”

“Pen-ii,” Erestor’s voice was not as calm as it was normally, “Pen-ii, repeat please.”

It was a phrase he used often enough in his lessons, so she understood it. She raised her head and looked him straight in the eye, her voice shaking a little as she repeated, “Balrog, Erestor. Big evil in Moria. Balrog.”

Halbarad’s mind reeled. The expression on the faces of the three elves spoke volumes: they could barely believe it either.

“Did you know?” he asked Elrond, his voice quiet as he tried to contain his shock.

Elrond shook his head. “We knew it was serious. Obviously so. But not that. No one dreamed it was that.” Then he said, looking at Penny as the tears rolled down her face, “And I do not doubt she understands fully the significance of this. She could have stopped them. She could have said something, but she did not. I begin to understand more of what she bears now.”

Halbarad thought too of Boromir. He wondered just how much more there was that she knew. Too much, he now suspected, too much that cut too deep. Sweet Elbereth, poor Pen-ii.

“They run. Bridge Khazad-Dhum. Balrog he run...”

Penny stopped herself. A thought had flashed across her head. She did not want to be the one to tell them this, and they would find out soon enough. Word would come. Word would come from Lothlorien telling of Mithrandir’s fall (Penny caught a sob in her throat as that thought hit her), saying the Nine Walkers were now Eight and that help was needed. Help that Elrond would send...

She suddenly looked up at Halbarad, and smiled sadly, as a tear slid down her face.

God, this was so damn hard.

She shook her head as she stared at her hands, which were clasped tightly in her lap. “They walk Lothlorien. They walked out of Moria. They walked inside Lothlorien.”

She did not look at them. Arwen and Elrond exchanged a glance. Halbarad and Erestor looked at them.

“What is it?” Erestor asked.

“There is something she is not telling us,” said Elrond quietly. “I do not know what, but she was about to say something and stopped herself.”

“Yes,” Arwen nodded. “I felt it too. Very strong.”

“Pen-ii,” Elrond turned to her now, “Pen-ii that is all the story? No more story?”

Still she did not raise her head, but she shook it slowly.

“Well at least she admits there is more,” said Halbarad softly. “And there would have to be. A Balrog would not let them just walk out of there.”

Erestor’s face was pale, his jaw tight, “Or else it would follow them to Lorien.”

There was another appalled silence as that idea sunk in.

“Pen-ii?” Elrond’s voice was gentle but his tone insistent.

Again she shook her head, and when she spoke they could hear her struggling to maintain her composure. “Not question, please, Lord Elrond. Please. Do not ask me. I not talk. I not talk. Please.”

“Pen-ii, these are our friends, whom we love dearly. We cannot... a Balrog, Pen-ii! A Balrog!”

“Look, I did not want to tell you! I... If it had been up to me, I would have not said a word, but you insisted, Mithrandir insisted, and I knew you were right because I can’t keep carrying this about with me, I can’t. It’s not possible – I’m not built for this, for God’s sake! I’m only human!”

She was crying as she spoke, but they could hear her anger and frustration. Elrond’s surprise and annoyance at her tone with him were clear in his face.

She said in Sindarin, “Me human, Lord Elrond. This is difficult. Difficult knowledge. I not want talk. You say, Halbarad say, Mithrandir say I must talk. I talked. I talked, and now I not talk. I not talk more. I have talked. Too much maybe. Maybe I..” She did not know how to say it so she muttered, “Forgive me I say ‘Balrog.’ Better you not know that maybe.”

Elrond nodded. “I understand, Pen-ii. We have no choice but to accept what you are saying and not act upon this. Though it is hard indeed.”

Erestor was saying, “Perhaps we should send some after them to deal with this, though? Glorfindel, perhaps?”

Penny’s head shot up. She had heard Glorfindel’s name and immediately guessed what Erestor may have been suggesting, “NO!” The alarm in her voice shocked them. “No, Lord Elrond. Please. I talk, you not work, you not move.” She hoped they understood her. They did.

Halbarad came to her now, crouching down beside her chair, one hand on the chair arm, the other holding her hand. “Pen-ii, the Nine Walkers are our friends. We must help them. Balrog very big evil, Pen-ii. I know you know this.”

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. She definitely would not tell them about Mithrandir now. Not with the reaction just this news had got. “No, Halbarad. They not inside Moria now. Now they inside Lothlorien. No Balrog. Balrog... Not Balrog now.” She was not sure if they would be in Lothlorien yet, or whether they had even left Moria but they may well have done. So it was not a deliberate lie, she told herself.

Halbarad looked confused. “No Balrog? You mean...” He looked at Elrond. “How would that be possible?”

“How, Pen-ii?” Elrond was looking at her intently.

She looked him straight in the eye and he could see that she knew the answer, but also the strength of will written on her face. “No, Lord Elrond.” She said very firmly. “Galadhrim will enter Imladris. They will tell you. Not me.”

Elrond opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again, realising she was resolute. They had to respect her decision. As it was, she had told them astonishing and very worrying news. But the idea that there was more, and worse, concerned him very greatly indeed.

Penny looked up at them all and regretted having said anything at all. The expressions on their faces showed their shock, their bewilderment and their concern. She wondered if them knowing there was more, though not what it might be, only made it worse.

She suspected it probably did.

Chapter 26 - “Sending Out An S.O.S.”

Penny made her excuses and left for her chambers. She slept little, though. While it was a relief in some ways to have said something at last, her fear that they would act upon what she had told them nearly consumed her.

Gandalf had told her to tell Elrond. He would not have done so unless he trusted Elrond implicitly not to act. Penny had to hold on to that. They had promised her they would not do anything.

Erestor was perfunctory with her and clearly preoccupied in her lesson the following morning. She did not blame him and knew it was not directed at her.

Halbarad came to watch her as she rode round the paddock, and she was pleased to see him. He puffed away on his pipe, nodding every now and then as she cantered, trotted and walked the horse, turning this way and that as Lindir directed her.

After only a little while Halbarad said something to Lindir, who nodded in response. Halbarad then disappeared up the path, returning a short while later astride his stallion. Lindir called for Penny to stop what she was doing and indicated Halbarad waiting patiently for her at the paddock gate.

“You will finish your lesson with Halbarad, Pen-ii. I will see you back at the stables.”

She nodded and made her way to join Halbarad, who turned his steed to lead her on the path that meandered down the valley.

She had done this a few times now with Lindir – left the paddock for a short, slow ride on horses through the trees – but this was the first time with anyone else. She was both pleased and nervous that it was Halbarad.

“Your riding is improving, Pen-ii. Well done. Admittedly it is easy enough with elvish trained horses, but even so, you are learning a useful skill and doing so well. I am impressed.”

She understood enough to realise he was complimenting her and murmured her thanks.

They continued in silence for a little while. She wondered if he was going to mention last night at all, or just try and pretend it had never happened. He must be thinking about it, now as preoccupied with it as she had been all this time.

He was murmuring something and shaking his head as if in disbelief. He looked at her. “That was quite something you told us last night, Pen-ii. I do not disbelieve you, but it was a lot to take in.” He shook his head once more as he muttered, “May Elbereth protect them all.”

She could guess what he was talking about.

He continued, “It is hard not to act on this. Very hard. Elrond had to do a lot of talking last night to stop Erestor and myself gathering people together to ride out there. I understand, but it breaks my heart not to defend my friends, to help them. I just hope they are safe. You said they are in Lothlorien now?”

She nodded.

“Well, that is something at least.”

Silence once more. Penny was not sure she was comfortable with all this, but she held her tongue.

He stopped the horse and looked at her. “Pen-ii? Will you tell Elrond about Boromir?”

She gasped slightly, managing to maintain her presence of mind enough to stop her horse also and glance back to him.

“I think you should. I think you should tell him everything you know. What you said last night - Moria, the wolves, the Balrog - that is only a small part, is it not? There is a lot more knowledge you have, a lot more - and a lot more evil, is that not so?”

She was staring at him, wide-eyed, understanding enough of what he was saying to know what he was asking her. She nodded slowly.

“Then tell him, Pen-ii. Tell him all you know. Even if you do it slowly, you must still tell him. It is too much for you, too difficult. He will understand, and better than you might think. Promise me, Pen-ii. Promise me you will tell Elrond everything.”

She nodded. “I will talk,” she said in Sindarin. “I will talk all I know. Not now. Soon maybe. Not now but I will talk, Halbarad.”

He nodded, his smile grim. “Good.” He started his horse walking once more and Penny joined him.

The long silence that followed was a brooding one, full of unspoken thoughts and questions.

To break the mood Halbarad turned to her, trying to sound bright and inconsequential in his tone. “Tell me about yourself, Pen-ii. I know little of you, of your family. Do you have brothers? Sisters?”

She smiled a little. “I have one brother only. He small. Smaller.”

Halbarad nodded, smiling also.

“My mother she work. I not live with my mother. I live alone.”

Halbarad raised his eyebrows a little. “You are not married?”

She shook her head, laughing. “No! No, no, no. Mithrandir he not told you?”

“No, he said nothing. So I take it you have had this conversation before?” He could see she hadn’t understood him. “You told Mithrandir this? About your family?”

She nodded. “A little.”

“And your father?”

Her face clouded then. Halbarad wondered what he had said to upset her.

“I not know my father.”

“He died? I am sorry, Penny.”

She repeated ‘died,’ not knowing the word. With hand gestures and explanations Halbarad made himself understood.

“Oh. No. He walked. My mother,” she made a sign to indicate a large stomach, “with my brother. Me, small. He left, went out of house. She not see him again.”

Halbarad stopped his horse. She did the same and saw his eyes were blazing in rage. “What? He left your mother pregnant and with a small child! What kind of man is this? Elbereth! I would gladly wring his neck!”

She was not quite sure what he had said, but she was very touched by the clear sentiment expressed and smiled sadly. “Long ago, Halbarad. Many years.”

He had started the horse walking again, but she could see he was still livid.

“What about you, Halbarad?” she said. Then in Sindarin, “You? Family?”

He nodded, smiling a little now. “Three sons.”

Penny smiled broadly. That pleased her, though she knew not why. She could see him as a father. “Really?” she beamed.

“They are quite full grown, Pen-ii. All older then you, though they look nearer your age, the youngest particularly.” He could see her brows were furrowed slightly as she tried to follow what he was saying. “All three big. Older than you.”

She grinned. “I bet they are.” In Sindarin she asked, “You, how many years, Halbarad?”

He grinned at her. “Ah, now that would be telling, Pen-ii.”

“I know you old man, Halbarad.”

He laughed out loud at that.

“Sixty? Seventy? Same as Aragorn maybe?”

He smirked at her. “No, Pen-ii. Aragorn is an old man.”

She giggled.

“Almost seventy.”

She nodded. So she had been right, then. Old enough to be her grandfather. She looked at him, at how he looked little more than forty if not less. So bloody strange.

He could guess what she was thinking and laughed softly.

After they had gone a little further she said, “So you are married, Halbarad?” She repeated it in Sindarin, but as soon as she saw his face, she realised she had said the wrong thing. His jaw tightened and his face grew dark.

“She died, Pen-ii,” was all he said, his voice quiet suddenly.

“I’m... I’m sorry, Halbarad. Goheno nin. Saes. Goheno nin.”

“Please,” he held up his hand, trying to smile a little, “it’s perfectly all right, Pen-ii. You were not to know. It was a few years ago now. Do not concern yourself.”

They talked little after that, but they had a pleasant ride nonetheless. Halbarad even took her to some more open ground where she could trot and then canter a little, which she enjoyed. He seemed pleased by her progress, which helped to break the mood once more.

After they had taken the horses back to the stables and then had lunch, Halbarad was explaining he needed to leave once more.

“But you’ve only just got here! You can’t, Halbarad, please!”

He understood her well enough.

“Pen-ii, I came just to see how you were coping, how you were. Otherwise I would not be here at all. I am needed, out there.” He pointed out towards the entrance to the valley. “Many wolves, Pen-ii.” He knew she knew the word now. “Many wolves, and worse. You know the work I do, that all the Dúnedain do. I know you understand. I must go.”

She nodded and tried not to sound like a sulky little girl. “I know, but it’s not fair. You haven’t even been here hardly two minutes, and you’re rushing off again.”

“Much work to be done, Pen-ii. Glorfindel, Elladan and Elrohir are not here either. Many other ellyn also are out there, protecting Imladris, helping the Dúnedain. We cannot afford to sit by and let the wolves attack or congregate in big numbers. I have to go. My sons are out there also. What father would I be to them if I let them work alone?”

He smiled, hoping she had understood him. She had. She returned his smile.

“I know. Forgive me. You go. Go help your sons.”

He nodded.

“Will you come and help me saddle up? You are now an expert!” he grinned at her.

She had no idea what he had just said, other than asking her to help with his horse. She suspected the rest was a joke at her expense, so she stuck her tongue out at him, making him laugh.

She was going to miss him.

She quickly shut that thought out of her head as they walked slowly across the snow to the stables.

Halbarad was pleased he had come to see her and pleased beyond measure she had finally spoken a little of what she knew, even if what she had had to say had shaken them terribly. He was glad also they had had their ride this morning. It had brought them a little closer, he felt. To learn of her father’s treatment of his family made him all the more determined to stand by her from now on. He had never had a daughter. He smiled sadly.

Penny was crossing the yard, leading his horse to him. He was delighted by the progress she had made with her riding and horses in general. He remembered how terrified and skittish she had been around his own when they had first met.

Elbereth, that seemed so long ago now. She had changed utterly. He much preferred this Pen-ii, and not just because she was no longer screaming and cursing at him. She seemed more relaxed, more herself, more rounded as a personality. He wondered if she was not, in fact, different from the woman she would be back home. He suspected so.

He mounted quickly and turned the horse to face the path out of the yard. He held out his hand to her. “I will return when I can, I promise. You remember the promise you made to me, Pen-ii: tell Elrond. Talk to him. Remember?”

She nodded. “I will, Halbarad.”

He smiled, squeezed her hand and murmured, “Navaer.”

She returned his farewell and watched him leave.

A little over two weeks later, he was back and Elladan was with him. Halbarad was a little concerned she still had not talked to Elrond in that time, and told her so, in front of Elrond and his son. She was a little peeved.

“In my own time, Halbarad, don’t push me!” She switched to Sindarin. “Not now. After Galadhrim come. Not before. Nothing to tell. They all in Lothlorien now. They stop there one month. Do not make me speak when I do not want to.”

Halbarad nodded, but she could see he was still worried. “Honestly, Halbarad, I am fine. Really. I promised you I would talk to Lord Elrond, and I will.”

“If she promised you, Halbarad, leave it at that. Do not push her or we may never know,” Lord Elrond said to him quietly.

The next day at breakfast, Penny’s heart leapt to her mouth when she saw two blond elves eating with the rest. She let her gaze flick up towards them time and again. Bilbo dug her in the ribs, swallowing a mouth full of bread and jam as he pointed the butter-knife at them and mumbled, “Galadhrim. From Lothlorien.”

She had not needed Bilbo to tell her. She had already guessed.

Like the scouts who came back every now and then, they looked dishevelled and a little dirty, but their hair, as ever, was well combed. She giggled a little, in spite of herself. At Bilbo’s raised eyebrow she said, “Always ellyn nice hair. Neat. Even after long travel, neat hair.”

Bilbo chuckled and nodded. When he had finally swallowed his mouthful he flapped his hand at her to hand over her Sindarin reader, and then he started to test her in advance of her lesson.

She wondered if the lesson might be cancelled, though, and she arrived at Erestor’s study to find he was leaving as she had suspected. She knew where he was going.

“Forgive me, Pen-ii. No lesson today. As you are no doubt aware, Galadhrim have arrived, as you told us they would. They will have news, and I must go.”

She nodded. “Yes, Erestor.”

As she stood to one side to let him past her she touched his arm and he turned to her.

“Yes, Pen-ii?”

“Erestor...” She hesitated.

“What is it?” His voice showed his concern as he saw the anxiety on her face.

“Erestor, the Galadhrim... They will say... they will have big knowledge. Forgive me I not say before. Maybe you will understand why when you listen. I not wanted you to listen that knowledge from me. Better from them. Forgive me.”

Erestor looked at her, his brows furrowed even more deeply. She had said to them there was more that she knew and she had refused to say what it would be, that Galadhrim would come and tell them instead. It was clearly quite serious, though, judging from her present demeanour. As serious as a Balrog? Perhaps more serious? Erestor was quite worried now.

He nodded at her. “Very well, Pen-ii. I shall hear what they have to say. I realise you made a decision not to tell us. Do not worry, I am sure you had your reasons. I will see you later, no doubt.” With that he left, marching down the corridor towards Elrond’s study.

She went to find Arwen and sat with her in a small antechamber doing some sewing. Arwen noticed she was quiet and knew it would be about whatever news the Galadhrim had brought.

An hour or so later there was a knock on the door. Elrond entered.

Arwen took one look at her father, at his pale face, eyes still bright with tears and his jaw clenched and she gasped a little.

“Father, what is it? What has happened?”

For a moment he could not speak. Then he looked straight at Penny, “I think Pen-ii could tell you better than I.” His voice was quiet, calm, but there was an edge to it that made Penny feel suddenly very nervous. “You knew, Pen-ii, did you not? You knew and you refused to tell us, to tell me. How could you? How could you keep something like that from me! Do you realise how much jeopardy you put them in! The entire quest is teetering on failure!”

Penny had not understood him, but she realised he was angry. She had not quite expected this reaction, but then she had not really thought through what reaction they would have. She had only known she did not want to be the one to tell them.

“Forgive me, Lord Elrond,” she whispered, her throat tight. “Forgive me, I thought better they tell you. Better you hear this from them, not me. This big knowledge. Not right that I tell you.”

“You stupid woman! Mithrandir is dead, and you are worrying about hurting my feelings! Elbereth, Pen-ii!”

Arwen was white with shock. “What! Mithrandir...!” She turned to Penny. “You knew?”

Penny nodded, close to tears now. “Balrog. He fight Balrog. Balrog fall at bridge, but pull Mithrandir also.”

“And he died, Pen-ii!” Elrond was a little calmer, but his eyes still flashed. “Now there are decisions to be made. I thank Eru we had Halbarad here when we found out about this. You should have told us.”

Before Penny could say a word he had stormed back out of the room.

There was a brief silence filled with the sound of Arwen’s quiet sobs.

“Why did you not tell him?” Arwen said quietly at last, not able to look at Penny.

“He is not dead.”

Arwen stared at her through her tears. “What?”

“He dies. Then he lives. He returns. I knew it was big knowledge, but not what you believe. He will come back.”

Arwen’s mouth was open in astonishment. Then she recovered herself. “You must tell him, Pen-ii. You must tell him this.”

“I think he should choose his action first, Lady Arwen.”

Arwen stopped, looking at her. “Something will be decided because of this? A decision will be made?”

Penny nodded.

“That’s why you said nothing. You did not want that decision changed, nor when it took place. I understand. I still think you need to tell them this. Come, come with me, and we will see what they have decided. They have been there some time already. It may be they know what they will do already.”

Penny reluctantly took the hand Arwen was holding out to her and let her lead her to Elrond’s study chamber. As they neared it they passed by the two Galadhrim, clearly having just left there. They bowed to Arwen, obviously recognising her, and greeted Penny also before hurrying off. Both had looked very uncomfortable, as anyone who has had to relay terrible news would do.

Arwen knocked and there was a brief silence before they heard Elrond say, “Come in.”

As they entered Penny could feel the atmosphere directed towards her.

Elrond’s eyes were narrowed as he sat behind his desk. To one side stood Erestor, his face pale and his jaw tight, and upon seeing Penny he shook his head sadly as if disappointed in her. Halbarad looked furious, but he alone looked at Penny with some compassion in his eyes. Elladan’s eyes were still wet with tears, and there were tracks on his cheeks where one or two had fallen. He positively glared at Penny as she came towards them.

“Has a decision been made as to what you will do in the light of this new information?” Arwen’s voice was surprisingly calm and the males looked in wonder at her.

“We believe so. The request from Lothlorien is very clear. We have no other options, I do not think, bar that one,” answered Elrond.

Arwen turned to Penny. “Tell them,” she said kindly.

All eyes focused on Penny. She swallowed.

“Mithrandir is not dead.”

Gasps and murmurs.

“Pen-ii, I can assure you he is,” said Erestor quietly. “One of the Galadhrim spoke with Aragorn and Legolas. They saw him fall. He fell in Moria.”

“I know, my lord, but Mithrandir not die when he fell.”

Elrond looked at Penny levelly. “Go on, Pen-ii. Tell us what you know and chose to keep from us till now.”

“Balrog and Mithrandir fight while fall. Sword,” she said for good measure, “Glamdring.” They nodded. “Into water. Balrog not Balrog now. Now like snake.” It was the nearest thing she could think of though it was not strictly accurate. “Balrog and Mithrandir down under mountains. They fight. Many evil things under mountains. Balrog and Mithrandir climb stairs up mountains. Still they fight. On top of mountain, Balrog died.”

They understood and nodded.

“That’s why she stopped us sending people after them to deal with this,” said Halbarad quietly.

“Mithrandir he... he... died... on top mountain.”

Everyone stiffened slightly. Some let their heads drop in grief and disbelief. Elrond sat silent and stony faced.

“Mithrandir,” she made a motion moving away with her hand. “Went not to Valinor, beyond Valinor. Eru maybe.”

Elrond’s eyes were wide with astonishment and all the others were looking at her.

Elladan was murmuring. “Eru? Eru Himself? It’s not possible that she could know that...”

“‘Not you finished Mithrandir. You go back.’” She made another ‘going’ motion with her hand. “Mithrandir he returned.” She made a beckoning or returning motion with her hand.

She was not sure they were following her, though they must have guessed some of it, judging by their open mouths and bewildered faces.

“Pen-ii, what are you saying?” Elrond could barely form the words.

“Mithrandir not grey now. Mithrandir white.”

They all looked at each other.

“Before Saruman white. Today, tomorrow Mithrandir white.”

They had understood her correctly.

“White? Mithrandir will be the White? The head of his order?” Elrond was asking her. She nodded.

None of them could quite get their heads round Mithrandir dying and coming back again.

Erestor shook his head, “Eru indeed moves in mysterious ways. This... this is...” Words utterly failed him at that point.

They looked stunned.

At last Elrond spoke, the astonishment clear in his tone of voice. “I feel I owe you an apology, Pen-ii. I understand why you did not tell us. Mithrandir will...” he hesitated before saying it since he could still scarcely believe it, “return.”

Penny nodded.

“He joins the eight at Lothlorien?”

“No. After they leave he comes to Lothlorien. The nine are not nine. The nine are now eight.”

Elrond’s face showed his concern.

“We have been asked to help, Pen-ii. And we shall help. If Mithrandir does not join them, then the request for help still stands.”

She nodded. “I not wanted to tell you before you decided. You have decided?” Penny was trying to maintain her composure.

“Yes, we have, Pen-ii. The Dúnedain will ride south, as many of them as can be mustered in the little time we have available to us. Elladan and Halbarad will leave now, as will as many scouts as we can spare. Then they will meet here in a week. We have to move fast. Time is precious.”

Penny surprised herself. She did not break down, nor feel an overwhelming urge to flee the room.

Instead she nodded and, murmuring apologies, she left with Arwen and then made her way to her chambers, where she sat for some time in absolute silence, staring out of her window at nothing in particular.

Elrond, however, had felt a tremor in her as he had said what their decision was. It was immediately clear that she had known what he would say, but just for a brief instant he had seen the deepest sadness in her eyes.

Chapter 27 - “The Final Curtain”

Halbarad and Elladan left within the hour. Penny was still sitting at her window, and she watched them leave. She could not bring herself to go down and say farewell, knowing that now was not the time for prolonged conversation.

She was utterly numb: in shock, in some ways. For all this time she had tried not to think about it, had literally shoved it out of the way in her mind, tried to not focus on it or bring it to the fore. Yet it had sat there in the back of her head, gnawing away at her.

What could she do?

What on EARTH could she do?

If she told Elrond, even if she told Halbarad, would that stop them? Of course not! He rode to his potential death every day. Every time he faced an orc or troll or wolf, he knew he could die at any second. All she knew, or vaguely remembered, since she could not even be sure, was that he died at the Pelennor. She did not know how or even when exactly: the battle was a long one.

‘You will die at this battle, but I can’t tell you by what creature, weapon or when precisely it will happen.’ How was that of any use to anyone?!

It was some time before she began to cry, and when it happened they were hot tears of blind fury and frustration.

There was absolutely nothing she could do about this. Nothing. She was a bystander, a mere watcher as people fell. This was horrific... nightmarish. She thought of this good, kind man, who had done so much for her, had shown her so much friendship and gentlemanly honour even when she was swearing up a storm at him. She thought of his sons...

A gentle knock disturbed her.

“Pen-ii? Are you quite well? No one has seen you for a little while and you were not at lunch, so I thought I should come and check on you. May I come in?”

She wiped her eyes, doing her best to make herself look presentable as she crossed to the door.

“Lady Arwen. Please, come in.”

Arwen took one look at her and knew she had been crying. Like her father, she had also sensed something from Penny, which had passed as quickly as it had arrived, when he had spoken of the decision that had been made.

She smiled at her sadly. “I see you are thinking of yet more of what you know. Do you wish to talk? I understand if you do not. Or not yet, at least.”

Penny shook her head. “I thank you, Lady Arwen, but no. I not think I talk. Perhaps to your father. I do not know. I... I...” She stopped herself in a sob, but stood for a little moment, struggling to push it all down inside her, to maintain her composure. She continued, “I am well. I thank you. I am well.”

Arwen nodded, realising full well Penny was trying to put a brave face on something, but knowing that she had to respect her decision. She wondered what it might be, and if it was any worse or more extraordinary than Balrogs or Mithrandir’s death and return.

“Very well, Pen-ii. Should I leave you to your thoughts? Or can I perhaps distract you for a while?” Penny had only caught some of what she said and was a little confused, so Arwen explained, “Shall I leave you alone? Or will you come with me? I hear you have nearly finished your weaving. Will you show me?”

“Yes, Lady Arwen. Please.” Penny was glad to have a diversion, though she dreaded to think what Arwen would make of her fairly scrappy attempt at a rag rug.

Arwen did her best to keep Penny busy over the next day or two. Mireth and Eleniel did the same, indeed had been doing so ever since the Fellowship had left. Now that the weather was warming a little, though not by much, there was plenty of digging and sowing to be done in the gardens, which kept Penny very busy indeed. She threw herself into such work with abandon since several hours, if not an entire afternoon, could be lost in such a way.

The nights were the worst. When she was alone in the darkness, with nothing to distract her, she had a hard time not thinking about it and worrying about what, if anything, she could do.

The third night after Halbarad had left, Penny was lying in bed, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling once more till she could bear it no longer. There seemed little point in even trying to sleep. She got up, pulling on one of the heavier dresses she had and then wrapping her shawl about her. She quietly crept along the corridors and down staircases till she reached one of the many little doors that led out into the night. She lit a lantern and headed off into the dark.

She walked slowly, not really heeding where she was going, and not really minding to go anywhere in particular. She just needed some way of filling the hours, perhaps making herself tired enough that she could sleep in spite of herself. It was cold, admittedly, but she just hugged her shawl a bit tighter around herself and headed on under the trees.

At last she came to the spot she and Halbarad had been to on many an occasion: a clearing with a central fountain covered with a gazebo affair of a roof on four tall, slender pillars. She sat on one of the benches there, resting her lamp on the seat beside her, and stared into the night sky above her.

“Why?” she was muttering to herself. “Why... why is this happening to me? How can I just sit still and let this happen?” There was a long silence before she whispered, “But what can I do about it?”

She heard and sensed a movement behind her and spun round on her seat with a gasp. Lord Elrond stepped forward with his hand held up to her by way of an apology.

“Forgive me, Pen-ii. I did not mean to startle you. I saw you walking with a lantern, and wondered what you were up to so late. It is late for you to be walking at night. Very late. You can not sleep?”

She shook her head.

“May I join you?”

“Yes. Please, Lord Elrond.”

She was suddenly aware that they had never really sat and talked alone together.

He came to sit beside her on her bench and said nothing for quite some time. The two simply stared up at the stars shining bright above them, the still night air enveloping them both.

At last Elrond stirred a little. “Your candle is burning low, Pen-ii. I think you should return inside. It is too cold for you to be sitting here.”

She understood enough to be able to nod and thank him and agree he was perhaps right.

“Pen-ii...” Elrond hesitated. “Pen-ii, you should talk to me. I know Mithrandir told you to do so. I understand why you waited to tell me of his fall, but do not forget I am here, Pen-ii.”

He turned to her slightly, and by the glow of her lantern she could see his face clearly enough to tell how kindly he was looking at her. His eyes were full of concern, his brow furrowed gently as he looked at her. He softly placed a hand on her shoulder as he continued, “You carry a great burden. Your knowledge is difficult for you. I understand this. Truly I do. I know there is something about the decision we made that is hard for you. I feel it. Can you talk to me of it? Or not yet?”

Penny understood him, could feel the tears pricking her eyes. “No, Lord Elrond. Forgive me. I have not decided if I talk or if I not talk.”

He nodded. “Very good, Pen-ii.” He glanced at her, and she could tell that he was studying her, as if assessing whether she was making the right decision, as if wondering how burdened she was. “I will not press you on this,” he murmured. “Now go, please. Go into the warm. Go and sleep, Pen- ii.”

She thanked him as he walked with her back to the halls and then left her at the foot of the stairs that led up to her bedchamber.

There was something about his demeanour with her that night that meant that, two days later, she made her decision. It was clear to Erestor she was barely concentrating in her Sindarin lesson that morning and he was mildly irritated with her.

“Pen-ii, what is the matter with you? I have explained this three times now; you are barely listening to me!”

She murmured her apologies, furrowed her brow in concentration and tried to give him her full attention.

As soon as her lesson was over and she had taken her books and papers to her room, she made her way back downstairs to Elrond’s study. She hesitated a moment, steadying herself, before she knocked tentatively on the door.

“Come in,” said the low musical voice from within.

Elrond looked up from his desk as she entered and could not help his eyebrows rising a little in surprise to see her.

“Pen-ii? You wished to see me?”

She nodded. “Are you busy? I want to talk. A little. If now is not good, then later.”

“No, no, now is good.” Elrond smiled a little to hear himself using her own idiomatic fractured Sindarin. “Now is very good. Do, come in and sit.” Indicating one of the more comfortable chairs beside the fireplace, he crossed over to join her.

“Do you wish Erestor or Arwen to be here also? To talk to them as well?”

Penny shook her head vigorously. “No, I thank you. No. Only you. Please.”

Elrond nodded. “Very good, Pen-ii.” He looked at her for a moment, his face serious but his eyes kind. “Well, what did you want to tell me?”

Penny did not really know where to begin. She stared at her hands for a while, trying to think of what to say and how to say it. Elrond watched her patiently, realising this was hard for her, and letting her come to it in her own time.

At last she looked up at him, her eyes bright with tears. Her voice was thick as she tried not to break down completely. “Halbarad. You must not let Halbarad ride south with the Dúnedain.”

Elrond looked at her with a little surprise and concern. “Why?” was all he said, though he guessed rightly enough.

“Please, Lord Elrond. You cannot allow him to ride. Please.” A tear rolled down her cheek.

Elrond shifted forward in his seat and took one of her hands in his. “Pen- ii. Will he die?”

Her entire body stiffened. She nodded slowly, struggling to not collapse into a weeping heap.

“Pen-ii, do you know how? When? Where?”

She realised the futility of her request of him, and knew Elrond was about to point it out to her. “There were be a great battle. He will fall. I do not know how. I do not know when exactly. I know... he will fall.” She could not bring herself to say ‘die.’

“Pen-ii,” Elrond began, his voice as gentle as a summer breeze, and the warmth and understanding in it were near enough in themselves to make her weep, “what would you have me do? Or say? I cannot stop Halbarad. Even were you able to tell me the details, he would not let me. His friend, one who is like a brother to him, is in need. Aragorn needs help. Halbarad cannot stand by and do nothing, nor will he, nor would I ask him to.”

He was not sure how much of what he was saying she was understanding, but he was trying to keep his Sindarin as simple as possible for her. “Pen-ii, you have to understand. Do you think if he knew he would not ride? No, he would ride south whether he knew or not. He is a soldier, Pen-ii. One used to fighting and battles. He faces death all the time. He is not afraid.”

Penny was understanding enough of what he said, and could easily fill in any gaps, since this was all the same argument she had told herself often over the past few days. It was all things that Mithrandir himself had said to her.

There was a silence as they looked at each other: the elf-lord with the wisdom of millennia in his eyes, and the weeping human woman utterly lost and bereft of hope.

Elrond’s voice came quiet as he asked, “Pen-ii, does Sauron fall?”

She stared at him wide-eyed. He could not be asking her that. He could not!

Elrond insisted gently, “Pen-ii, does Sauron fall? This story you know, this book you have read, I presume has survived, lasted all that time, for a reason. I only hope and pray it was because it was worth the telling. I hope you know our story because it was a good story, a big story: the story of the fall of Sauron.” He hesitated. “Do you understand what I am saying to you?”

She nodded. She did. And she knew where he was going with this as well. Her tears fell all the faster.

“Pen-ii, does he fall? Does Sauron fall?”

She looked into his deep grey eyes and knew. She knew he knew: that he had guessed or perhaps had already sensed it. Whether from her or something else she could not know.

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Elrond’s eyes closed for the briefest of moments and he took a breath. Then he nodded slightly, his face filled with sadness as he looked at her once more. “Then, Pen-ii, I cannot change what has been decided. You know that. You should not ask me to do so. I...” and Penny saw his eyes were wet with tears of his own now. “I have know Halbarad since he was a child. I have known many men, and women, who lie in the cold earth now. We elves have to learn to live with your mortality. You die. We do not. This is the way of it. But, Pen-ii,” his voice became more urgent now, and he brought his other hand to clasp hers now as well, “nothing is more important than the fall of Sauron. I know that Halbarad would say the same were he here and even if you told him what you know. Do you understand me?”

She nodded, the tears streaming down her face. “Yes, I understand. I did understand. It is why I decided not to talk. Then it was too big, too hard for me. Halbarad is my friend. He is very kind.” She was frustrated by not knowing enough Sindarin to be able to truly express what he meant to her, how much this was hurting her. “I do not have the language to say,” she faltered.

Elrond lifted a hand to her cheek. “I know,” he whispered. “I understand, Pen-ii. Believe me, I understand.”

She broke then, sobbing uncontrollably, and Elrond held her till the weeping passed. She felt very foolish and was very apologetic for having lost it so completely in front of him like that but Elrond was very kind and understanding. He even produced a handkerchief from somewhere for her.

“There is little I can say to comfort you, Pen-ii. Do not think I am not greatly saddened and troubled by what you have told me. But there is nothing we can do, nor should we do anything even were we able to. Go. Go and keep yourself busy.”

They were standing in front of the open door of his study now, and he held out his hand for hers. He looked her in the eye and said, “Stay strong, Pen-ii. You must. Talk to me, also, whenever you wish to. I am always here. You may come and see me, any time of night or day, you understand?”

She nodded, having got the gist of it. She looked at him. “Lord Elrond. I not know if I should talk what Aragorn do, the eight. If I talk before Dúnedain ride south. Do I talk to you now or after?”

She had given up trying to make sense of this, trying to eke out the information given little by little. Halbarad’s imminent departure was too overwhelming for her to see any coherent way through this now or how she should behave with the information she had.

Elrond studied her for a moment. “What did Mithrandir tell you to do?”

“He said when I had the language, the Sindarin, to talk to you.”

“Well, you have the language now, do you not? Or enough of it, at least?”

She paused, looking at him for a moment before nodding slowly.

Elrond stood back, spreading his arm into the room in a gesture to invite her to step away from the door while he closed it once more.

“Then, come and talk to me, Pen-ii. If that is what Mithrandir told you to do, we must trust in his wisdom. Come back in and sit and tell me what you know.”

So the entire morning till lunch was spent with Penny relating as best she could what the Fellowship went through as they travelled down the Anduin. As she spoke of Boromir she wept once more and Elrond then finally understood her behaviour with him. She did not tell Elrond that Boromir tried to take the Ring, and Elrond sensed she was keeping something from him at that point, but did not press her. Penny was not sure why she did so. She felt... it would be dishonourable in some way to tarnish Boromir’s name. He was such a good and noble man. Elrond would no doubt find out from Aragorn, but right now there was no need for him to know. So she kept the details of Amon Hen sketchy, talking of the attack of the Uruk-hai and nothing else.

After an hour there was a knock on Elrond’s door. He went to see who it was, and there was a murmured conversation, though with whom Penny could not hear or see. After a few moments Elrond returned to her and bade her continue.

The bell for lunch had rung some while before she finished. The fall of Isengard, the Ents’ decision, as well as the great victory at Helm’s Deep had near moved Elrond to tears. He still could not get over how much she knew, how detailed it all was.

“You will stop there?” he was now asking.

She nodded. “Then Aragorn find the Dúnedain and your sons. I will stop now. Tell more after they ride south.”

Elrond nodded. “Where do they meet? Where should I tell them to look for him?”

Penny looked at him, not sure if this was a question she should answer. “Talk with Halbarad and your sons. Tell me what they say, what you decide. If wrong I tell.”

Elrond nodded. “Very well. Now, Pen-ii, we must eat. We are late for lunch.” He motioned her to the door.

Penny felt much better than she had done in a long while. It had helped to get it out, even if not all the tale was told. Elrond had been most understanding, listening quietly and kindly, murmuring at some of the more surprising parts of the tale, beaming at Aragorn’s heroism or the feats of kuduk in persuading the Ents. His cheeks had been wet with her news of Boromir’s fall.

“A noble man,” he had muttered. “A great loss for Gondor.”

As Elrond opened the door for her and ushered her through, Penny gasped. In the corridor were four Dúnedain, one of them with his back to her, though she could guess who it was immediately. Glorfindel and Elrohir were also with them. All showed signs of long travel still and were leaning up against the painted walls, chattering and muttering quietly, clearly waiting for Elrond to finish whatever it was that was more important than their news.

They fell quiet as they saw her and Halbarad turned, his expression changing from one of surprise to see it was her who had kept them waiting for well over an hour in the corridor to delight at seeing her once again and guessing what she had been doing with Elrond all this time.

“Pen-ii, I am pleased to see you,” he beamed.

“Well met, Halbarad. Well met, my lords.”

Nods and murmurs from the assembled company. The reek of unwashed bodies was near overpowering. She tried not to wrinkle her nose but Halbarad saw her and laughed.

“I believe we are offensively smelly, my lords,” he smirked. “Forgive us, Pen-ii, for not washing first.” There were chuckles around him.

“Indeed you are,” said Elrond. “Why did you not go to lunch? This could have waited till after you had eaten, surely?”

“We were not sure how long you would be, Adar,” said Elrohir. “You weren’t terribly specific when I spoke to you, so we thought it best to wait.”

“Well, is there anything I need to know urgently, or can we discuss it as we go to eat something?”

Elrond was already walking down the corridor, his son now at his side and explaining whom had been contacted, where word had been taken, who was expected to meet them at Imladris, and who was congregating further south.

Penny, immediately forgotten, ambled along behind them unable to help but gawk slightly at the tall, powerful figures walking ahead of her.

Halbarad hung back a little and fell into step alongside her. “So you have told him? Spoken to him?”

She nodded, immediately feeling uncomfortable as she was reminded of her primary purpose in going to Elrond that morning.

“Good. I am glad, Pen-ii.”

He did not press her further. Something on the expressions of both Penny and Elrond as they had come out of his study had been enough to tell him that she had related much, and much that was serious.

That Elrond had kept them waiting in the corridor while she spoke to him spoke volumes.

Already a few Dúnedain had come to Imladris over the last day or two. They were heartily greeted by Halbarad and his companions, and were all introduced to Penny. It was pleasant to be surrounded by human company, somehow, and to finally meet more Rangers face to face. Penny could not stop beaming through most of lunch.

At supper there were yet more seated at the tables, and Elladan had also returned. By the following day a steady stream of Dúnedain were arriving in ones and twos throughout the day.

After lunch she was summoned to Elrond’s study once more. His sons were with him, as well as Halbarad, Erestor and Glorfindel. Only those who knew of her and her situation, she noted.

Elrond did not beat about the bush, but got straight to the point. “Pen- ii, they will head south to the Gap of Rohan. They will make their way to Edoras in the hope they might find Aragorn there. I have told them nothing of what you told me, I hasten to add - other than the main events leading up to Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and Mithrandir being in Rohan in the first place. Can you help us further?”

He repeated himself more simply to make it clear to Penny what he was asking.

She moved forward, seeing they had a map spread out on the table. “Did you speak of the battle? Of Isengard?”

“No. Not yet.”

The others were looking from one to the other, intrigued at what she had said but knowing better than to interrupt Elrond or insist he tell them anything.

“Should they be going through the Gap of Rohan? It is the only way with horses, and to get to Rohan with speed,” Elrond was saying.

She nodded. She pointed on the map. “Look for Aragorn here.” She drew a circle with her finger just south of Isengard.

She glanced at Halbarad, and saw he was looking at her keenly, a soft smile on his lips and a knowing expression on his face.

“Do not ask more, Halbarad. Maybe even this too much.”

He nodded. “I understand, Pen-ii.”

And that was that.

Penny had had little time to think about it all. In a strange way, speaking to Elrond had helped quite considerably. She had seen the depth of emotion he had shown in learning her news, and yet he was able to carry on, to deal with Halbarad quite normally. Above all else, she did not want to give Halbarad any reason for suspecting something was wrong. That alone was enough to make her keep going, to push it away from her and try to not think about what lay ahead.

She felt like a pressure cooker about to explode, but she would not allow herself to, or at least not before he left.

She let her thoughts drift back over her time here, the mad situation she was in. So much had changed. She had changed. She was not the same girl she was. She would never be the same. Even if she woke up tomorrow back in her little London flat, she would not be the same Penny Baker she had been.

The night before they left, she was sitting with Halbarad, Elrond and his sons and daughter in a small antechamber. Glorfindel and several other Dúnedain were there also. Penny took the opportunity of some lengthy discussion being held between Elladan and his father to lean towards Halbarad a bit.

“Halbarad?”

He looked at her.

“Tomorrow, when you leave...” She was hesitant, unsure of quite what to say.

He smiled sadly. “I am off to war, Pen-ii. It will be dangerous, difficult.”

She nodded, feeling her throat constrict a little.

Halbarad took her hand in his. “Pen-ii, come, I want to talk to you.” He stood and led her out of the antechamber and down a few corridors till they were alone. The only light was the flickering torches in the walls.

“Pen-ii, you have to realise I may never see you again,” he said quietly. “Perhaps some of the men you have met in the last few days will not return. Do you understand me?”

She nodded. She was keeping her gaze firmly on the floor, desperately trying not to break down.

“I want you to promise me you will stay strong, Pen-ii. That you will carry on what you have learnt here: learning Sindarin, horse-riding, the many skills. You have changed so much, Pen-ii. It pleases me to see it.”

She smiled a little and whispered a thank you.

“Pen-ii, I know you know something of who may die in this. It may be you know what my fate is.”

Oh God. Her heart was in her throat as she guessed his meaning. Her entire body stiffened in spite of herself and it took all her strength of will to not burst into tears or throw herself into his arms.

“But know this, Pen-ii. I would ride south even if I knew with certainty I would die. So would Elladan and Elrohir. So would all those who ride with us. We are needed. Even with our help, the numbers we will have will be small compared to those of Mordor. It may be we will not win, but we cannot do nothing. It would be shameful and terribly wrong to not try and fight this evil: unthinkable. I know you have not known war, and I know you are not used to men being soldiers and warriors. This is our way of life, so I felt I needed to talk to you a little, to help explain.”

She was catching most of it, could guess the rest.

“Pen-ii, do not fear. I know what I face. We all know. If it is death, then so be it. But I would rather die in battle, fighting a great evil, than sit here doing nothing, knowing my friend, my brother, is in need: that he asked for me and I did not go to him. Can you understand this? I know it is hard for the women when they wait at home. Too often I have seen their grief when their men do not return – their fathers, brothers, husbands and sons. We are friends, Pen-ii, and it will be difficult for you if I do not come back. I know this. If that happens, know I would not have changed my going, but that also does not mean I do not care what happens to you.”

She had silent tears on her cheeks and he pulled her to him to embrace her. They stayed like that for several minutes. Penny’s eyes were wide open as she stared ahead into the dark corridor, her heart breaking and yet unable to say a word to him.

What could she say?

At last he stood back from her a little and looked down at her, a gentle smile on his face.

“I understand, Halbarad,” was all she could find to say. “May Elbereth protect you. May Eru guide you all in this.”

He nodded, his smile widening a little. “I thank you, Pen-ii.”

The next morning they were to leave early. Penny was there, watching the horses as they snorted and champed their bits. Halbarad was astride his stallion already when Arwen came out of the Halls, bearing a furled banner. Halbarad nodded as he took it from her, murmuring a few words to her.

As they all readied themselves and turned their horses to face towards the gates, Halbarad urged his steed towards where Penny was standing. He reached down his hand for hers.

She took it, her eyes filled with tears, and her throat too tight to speak.

He said nothing, just held her gaze for a few moments, and smiled slowly. Then he squeezed her hand and murmured, “Navaer,” before turning his horse to join the others.

Penny had not noticed that Elrond had moved to stand beside her, and Arwen on her other side. She also did not notice the glance that was shared between them, as if Elrond had imparted to his daughter what Penny had told him.

As Penny watch them leave, her vision blurring with her tears, her throat so tight it was hurting her, she felt Elrond take her hand in his and squeeze it slightly.

As Halbarad reached the gate, leading the Dúnedain riding with him, he glanced behind him and raised his hand to them, smiling as he did so. Penny managed to force a smile through her tears and raised her hand in reply, though her grip on Elrond’s hand tightened at the same time.

She stood there, frozen, her hand in the air and the tears running down her face as she watched him disappear from sight.

She faced the long wait of war ahead of her and then would have to try to make a life for herself, here in Middle-earth for as long as she stayed. But at this moment Halbarad of the Dúnedain was riding south, and Penny knew she would never see him again.

THE END

I would like to thank my betas - bodldops and Mumstheword - as well as my ‘canon beta’ NL. Without you I would have been sunk. BIG hugs for you all.

Thanks also to those others who have spotted mistakes and helped with corrections – in particular Lippy, Hellga & NancyBrooke.

There is a sequel continuing Penny’s tale from the end of the War onwards. She joins the wedding party when it leaves Imladris to go to Minas Tirith. It is called “Okay, NOW Panic” and will be posted here in due course. It is a WIP at the moment (up to 15 chapters so far).
Thank you for taking the time to read this. If you choose to do so, then I hope you enjoy the sequel.

~Boz4PM~