Chapter 7

Disclaimer —PG-13—everything is owned by Tolkien enterprises; I’m just borrowing.

******

Return to Me, Chapter 7

Several days passed uneventfully. We saw no more of the dreaded Nazgûl, though several times we ran into wolves and giant spiders. We had taken to sleeping in the trees, after one particularly tense night when Tasarë was awakened by a rather small spider (a spy, we believed) who had sneaked past that evening’s watch to take a bite out of the unsuspecting warrior’s leg. It had taken Galenparth nearly the rest of the night to get the poison out of poor Tasarë’s system, using athelas and several other strange herbs. After that, Nurhoth and Legolas forbade sleeping on the ground—we took our bedrolls to the trees (after thoroughly inspecting them for more arachnids), who gladly welcomed us.

We made our way down through the wood, following the river, to the Old Forest Road, taking care to avoid wildmen and anyone else suspicious. It was dangerous now, but had served the wood-elves for so long that we felt we could handle ourselves. It was also the most direct route to the mountains and Imladris. Once again, the trees would help us. We would just blend into the leaves until whatever danger threatened had passed.

As a matter of fact, things were so easy and uneventful that Nurhoth and Legolas became nervous. The mood most of the time was fair, light-hearted even, and the captain and prince shared these feelings. But always in the back of my husband’s mind there lurked an apprehension, an unease that this was the calm before the storm, that something ill would befall us ere too long. This was partly due to his being Thranduil’s son and therefore a little paranoid by nature, but it also had to do with experience in the deep forests of Mirkwood. It was seldom that a journey went completely well. I suspected that Nurhoth, Menellion, and probably Fânwen felt it too; Legolas was an accomplished warrior but even he did not have the years of experience that the older elves did.

Fânwen herself had brightened considerably. She was still quiet and reserved, but now interacted with everyone in camp including Lalaithion. She and I had come to a congenial understanding that, I hoped, would with time develop into close friendship. Indeed, my heart filled with joy every time I heard the music of her silky laughter echoing through the camp. Laughter was very becoming to her; it made her cheeks rosy and enhanced her ageless beauty.

Menellion too relished the changes in his wife. He smiled constantly and was quick to jokingly tease her. He became much more of the light and amusing fellow that we had seen glimpses of previously when his wife was not present. He also frequently tried to steal a kiss from her, much to everyone else’s delight and Fânwen’s gigglish embarrassment. Happily, most of the time she let him. Though she had always loved him unconditionally, she had had trouble showing him or allowing others to see it. Now that she had finally opened up, it was easier for her to show her devotion to him and did not mind if any of us saw it. I daresay she took example from Legolas and me, as well.

Legolas and I had always been very open with our affection for each other, ever since we had confessed our feelings to Nana and Ada all those years earlier. Obviously we would never do anything inappropriate in front of the others (beyond our only slightly embarrassing incident the first evening), but we now felt close enough to them as to not feel uncomfortable giving each other a quick kiss or loving embrace if the impulse came upon us. Anything more intimate we saved for thoughts and dreams, though I must admit that there were a lot of these on that long, long road to Imladris.

Our growing closeness to the others brought me great joy, which in turn pleased Legolas to no end. I quickly got to know each of our companions and genuinely liked all of them. Legolas did as well, especially with the captain. He looked up to Nurhoth and greatly admired his leadership skills. Nurhoth was a wonderful leader, strict and reserved, yet quite personable and quick to smile. It was he who began to spar with me, slowly teaching me how to use my father’s sword in a capable manner. I was still a novice at sword-fighting, even as the days went on, but the captain promised that he would continue to teach me, even after we returned home to Mirkwood.

Our other companions were equally as congenial. Tasarë was very loyal to Mirkwood and seemed very trustworthy. I was told that he was a great fighter, though thankfully we had not yet had to see him in action. He also loved to tell us stories of old and sang great ballads in his clear, sweet voice.

Galenparth became Lalaithion’s partner-in-crime, both of them sources of constant laughter and good-natured frustration. Yet Galenparth was quite serious when it came to the needs of others, especially when someone was hurt, as was the case with Tasarë and the spider.

Gloriavas was quietest of all of us, yet when he did speak, whether it was to relay the weather or join Tasarë in telling us a story of the deep histories of Middle-earth, it was so eloquently that even the trees were moved. He was also a wonderful listener, genuinely concerned with what other people had to say. He gave the best advice of anyone I had ever met, save my brother Arahil.

Gloriavas, in fact, reminded me so much of Arahil, from his quiet personality to his dark, dark hair and even his slightly-crooked smile, that my heart ached with missing my brother. This was the longest we had ever been parted, as every time I had ever gone on a trip previously, he had been there. I missed my Ada as well, and even my standoffish brother Mellossë, who I continued to worry about. When these moments overwhelmed me, I sought out Lalaithion for a laugh, Tasarë for a story, or Gloriavas or Fânwen for a long talk.

I did miss my family, and despite the reason for our journey, I still managed to enjoy myself for most of the trip. Above all I enjoyed becoming closer to Fânwen and looked forward to seeing Arwen Undómiel. Legolas was quite pleased that I was becoming close to everyone, but I was especially thrilled with the prospect of female companionship. It was true that there were ladies at court and in the palace, but I never became close to any of them. This was another reason why I quite hoped that Arahil and Mellossë would marry, though I knew that this would not happen for a long time, as Arahil was too shy and Mellossë was a bit too fond of comely maidens to bond permanently with someone.

As much as I loved my husband, Adar, and brothers, I desperately missed both my birth naneth and Nana Aranel, who had raised me to maturity and helped mold me into the elleth I had become. There are times when a female needs another female to talk to, and I had wanted this desperately for a long time. Arwen and I were friends; we communicated often by letters, but I had not seen her in person for many years. Thus I was ecstatically intrigued at the prospect of a friendship with Lady Fânwen, and began to harbor much hope for the future.

*****

Such was the state of things when the day finally came that we finished crossing the Misty Mountains. Legolas, Nurhoth, and Tasarë were constantly on guard, forsaking sleep to be on alert for wildmen, orcs, or Nazgûl, who could come from anywhere in these treacherous rocks. It was also slow-going with the horses; several times we had to dismount and lead them through the particularly hard passages.

Finally one warm evening we came through the mountains and made camp in a small grove of trees, as Imladris was still another three days’ journey. Morale was high, boosted by the thought that the hard part was over, and the even better thought of the feasting that awaited us. Though the reason for the meetings in Imladris was grim, we could still count on the House of Elrond to feed everyone well. Lord Peredhil prided himself on the warmth and hospitality of the Last Homely House and always provided food fit for kings. As tired as we were all becoming of lembas, this was quite an incentive to travel quickly.

It was this feast we were speaking of when finally I dismounted and rubbed Dîndal’s tired legs. I did not hear the conversation for several moments, as I spoke to the horse and removed my supplies from her back. We elves used no saddles but we did place a blanket and bags over our horses’ backs. I also gave her the now customary nightly apple. She took it from me, knickering affectionately, and went to join the other horses

". . . And mashed potatoes, smothered in gravy," Galenparth was saying as he lit a fire. "Mmm, I can almost smell them."

"How about those candied yams they always have?" Lalaithion asked.

"I am quite looking forward to Lord Glorfindel’s apple pie," Fânwen said. "It has been years since I have tasted it. . . he uses the ripest apples and it is sooo very good."

"Are you sure it is his pie that you are looking forward to?" Lalaithion said with a smirk and a raised brow.

Fânwen flushed crimson and did not answer, causing all the males including Menellion to laugh out loud. "I do not know what you are talking about," she said haughtily, making them all laugh harder.

Her eyes narrowed and it looked as if she might yell at them when suddenly Tasarë turned serious and said, "I hear something."

He walked to the western side of the camp. "Someone is approaching, not far away." He shielded his eyes from the setting sun.

"Orcs?" Menellion asked, squinting to look himself.

"Nay," Tasarë replied. "They appear to be nogothrim ."

Lalaithion snorted. "They certainly sound like dwarves," he said.

Indeed, they did. I was surprised that every orc from Dol Guldur was not pursuing them, for the racket they made. We could hear two members of their party of twelve arguing with each other, much to the apparent amusement of the others.

"Ai!" Legolas suddenly exclaimed, from my left side. Everyone turned to look at him. His voice was full of dismay and even disgust, two emotions I did not normally associate with my husband, as he said, "Look who is their leader."

I turned back to the dwarf-party and squinted against the sun. Instantly I saw that the leader was one of the arguers. He was riding on a small brown, bow-legged pony who looked utterly bored. The dwarf himself was square and stout, as all dwarves were, with a full, graying beard and an enormous helmet over his head. His callused hands held the reigns tightly as he sat full and assured in the saddle. He had the most enormous axe I had ever seen strapped to his back; it went up over his head. I recognized him instantly.

"That cannot be Gloin," I said breathlessly, shocked to recognize one of the thirteen who among other things had traveled to Mirkwood with the hobbit Bilbo Baggins some years earlier.

"Indeed, it is," Nurhoth frowned, his voice sounding every bit as dismayed as Legolas’s had.

I felt it too. It was true that there was usually much animosity between elves and dwarves, but things would probably be uncomfortable and downright hostile in Imladris if we met up with Gloin. Though Ada had apologized (and even proclaimed Bilbo elf-friend) for imprisoning the dwarves and hobbit, I doubted sincerely that any of the dwarves had forgiven him. It had been rather hasty to imprison them, but in Ada’s defense, those were trying times when strangers usually were not to be trusted, least of all thirteen dwarves and an odd little perian . Luckily Mithrandir had arrived soon after their daring escape to explain them; eventually the dwarves had even united with the Mirkwood elves and a force of eagles and men in a rather serious battle. From my previous experiences with dwarves, however, I knew that they were slow to let go of a grudge. I knew for sure, at least, that those dwarves were part of the reason that Ada Thranduil was thought to have such a temper— part of the reason, at least.

"They are headed this way," Galenparth noted.

Legolas shook his head. "This is not going to be pleasant," he said.

"Yes, especially since he seems to be in such a foul mood," I replied. "I wonder why they are fighting?"

"I do not know," Fânwen said, squinting harder. "But does not the one with whom he is fighting look odd?"

I looked more closely. She was right; there was something strange about the dwarf who was fighting with Gloin. This dwarf was still stout and round, but seemed softer somehow, despite the heavy armor present. It looked somewhat younger as well, with long, bushy reddish hair and piercing eyes, and no beard.

I heard Fânwen’s sharp intake of breath as she also realized what I had just seen. The dwarf was beardless! I had never seen a dwarf without a beard, so this could only mean one thing.

"It is a female," Fânwen said softly, the surprise evident in her voice.

Everyone started in surprise. "I have always been told that even their women had beards," Lalaithion said with a small chuckle.

"I had heard that as well," Nurhoth said, placing a hand on Lalaithion’s shoulder. "Though I doubted it was true. I am surprised to see her though—even I have never seen a female dwarf, not in all my years of travels."

We all marveled at this, I think. Between us there were nearly one hundred thousand years of life, and none of us had ever seen or heard of a female dwarf. Of course, though I am ashamed to admit this now, I must say that none of us had ever had any concern for dwarves, other than suspicion and hostility, to even care about the females of their race.

They were getting closer. I heard what I thought was the female’s voice; it was very gruff and sounded so much like a male dwarf’s voice that it was hard to tell. "Why am I allowed no weapon, Gloin?" She was demanding. "You give me no straight answers. Do you wish me to be killed?"

"Of course not!" Gloin exclaimed, indignantly. He sounded utterly exasperated. "It is just not right for a woman to be so armed."

"Not right!" The female’s mouth dropped open. "And I suppose you would think it right for your wife to be felled by orcs?"

His wife? I thought.  I felt Legolas shrug; he had not known Gloin was married either.

"She is right," a younger dwarf said harshly, riding up alongside Gloin and his wife. His hair and beard were reddish like the woman’s and he had her piercing gaze; I assumed they were related somehow. "Even the elves allow their women to learn how to defend themselves."

"Did I ask for your opinion, Gimli?" Gloin said, glaring at the younger dwarf, who bowed his head and allowed his pony to fall back a few steps—nearly falling off of the beast in the process. He was quite obviously not a rider.

"Besides," Gloin continued. "What else would you expect from elves? They let their women run rampant and do as they please."

"You are an imbecile," The dwarf-woman said, glaring at her husband whilst voicing the opinion that we elves shared with her. I saw the one called Gimli stifle a smile.

Gloin did not answer but muttered something unintelligible under his breath. Suddenly a white-haired dwarf cleared his throat and said, "Speaking of elves. . . "

We had been seen. A huge scowl formed on Gloin’s face; Legolas frowned. We stepped forward to meet them as they closed the distance between us.

"Greetings, Master Dwarf," Legolas said to Gloin as all the dwarves dismounted. He tried his best to sound friendly as he said, "I am Legolas Thranduilion." He placed his right hand over his heart and bowed to the dwarf, whose scowl deepened.

"I know who you are," he said rudely. "Though I doubt that the elvenking’s son would remember that I am Gloin, son of Groin."

"He remembers," Nurhoth said coldly, before Gloin could further insult the prince of Mirkwood. "As do we all, Master Dwarf. Pray tell us, what brings you this way?"

"We have been invited to Rivendell to participate in Lord Elrond’s council," Gloin replied. There was a provocation in his voice, as if he was daring us to question or challenge him.

In his head, Legolas cursed, wanting to do just that. Out loud he said, "As are we. It is a grave business that I hope will end quickly."

"Aye," Gloin said, begrudgingly agreeing. He then looked up to notice two of the less discreet members of our party regarding the dwarf-woman with much interest. "Is something amusing about my wife?" Gloin asked angrily.

"No sir," I replied, glaring at Galenparth and Lalaithion. "Forgive them, they have had little interaction with your people, particularly your women."

He snorted. His wife said, "I might say the same thing of your people. I am Glís, Gloin’s wife and daughter of Oin."

"Greetings, Lady Glís," I said, curtsying to her. "I am Sorayaiel Thranduiliel, wife of Legolas."

Introductions were then made all around, whereupon we learned that Gimli was, in fact, Gloin and Glís’s son. Glís was somewhat more hospitable to us, though I think she was doing it to spite her husband. I could see why it was that most folk could not differentiate between dwarf-women and men. Other than her beardless face, there was nothing about her that said "female." Her voice was every bit as deep and gravelly as her husband’s. She was built the same and carried herself in a similar manner. Even her breasts were hidden by all of the bulky armor she was wearing, which I supposed was to make up for her lack of a weapon.

On that matter I certainly agreed with Glís and Gimli: the female dwarf needed to be able to defend herself. I did not know much about dwarf culture, but I found it difficult to believe that they would allow their women to travel unarmed and defenseless, especially in these troubled times. I suspected that this was Gloin’s own policy; I thought it extremely stupid and selfish, and from the attitudes of his wife and son, I knew they agreed. Gloin was going to get his wife killed if he kept up with this chauvinistic attitude.

Of course it was not my place to say anything, so I did not. Indeed, after introductions, there was a very awkward silence. After all, what did dwarves have to say to elves, really, especially since two of those elves were the children of one who had done them a great wrong? Nothing, usually, beyond hostilities and insults. We did not want to be antagonistic now, as we would probably have to spend some time with the dwarves in Imladris.

It was Nurhoth who broke the silence. "Have any of your party seen sign of orcs?"

"Nay," Gloin answered, his brow furrowed. "Not even one time. There is something odd about that."

"Indeed, there is," Nurhoth agreed. "It unsettles me very deeply. Have you seen any other odd creatures? Something flying perhaps?"

Gloin looked even more puzzled. "No, we have not seen anything that flies, other than an eagle occasionally. My son once thought he saw a creature similar to the Gollum that Master Bilbo encountered, but I told him that this could not be, as your people have him captive and would not be so careless as to let him escape."

Not one of we elves said a word, but inwardly Legolas flinched. I felt utter dismay overtake him, as well as anger at the dwarf for pointing out something that both of us had overlooked: the reactions of Imladris to our loss of the captive Gollum. Was that how Lord Elrond and Mithrandir would view our loss of the creature? Would they think we had been careless? Uncertainty washed over Legolas: would they even be angry? And if so, what would he, as representative of our kingdom, do about it? I did not know what to say to my husband. I smiled slightly with what I hoped was a reassuring look; he made no response.

Gloin broke the second awkward pause. "Yes, well, I suppose we should be on our way. We got a late start today so I want to travel a few more miles before we rest."

Legolas thought (probably correctly) that Gloin just wanted to distance his camp from ours, but that was fine with him as it was with me, and, I supposed, with the other members of our party.

"Well then, navaer Master Dwarf; my Lady," my husband said, nodding to them. "I bid you safe journey, and we will see you in Imladris."

"Safe journey to you as well, Master Elf; Mistress," Glis said, nodding to us. I nodded back. Gloin muttered a brief "thank you" as his son gave a nod. The dwarf-party quickly mounted their ponies and set off, opposite the setting sun. We saw them set up camp about four miles ahead of us in another pass. The smell of pipe-weed and their fires drifted quickly into our midst; we did our best to ignore it.

We went about our business into the night, setting up watches and telling stories in the fading light as we ate dinner. Legolas was very quiet and did not take much part in the good-natured mood of the evening. He was very deeply troubled with what to say about Gollum and I suspected that this would only deepen as we got closer to our destination.

Just as it got fully dark I sat next to him on a log away from the fire, just outside the circle of our companions. I handed him a cup of tea and lay my head on his shoulder. "Do not worry, caun nîn ," I said softly.

He said nothing but his thoughts were tired and varied. We sat there for a few moments in silence; eventually his fingers became intertwined in my hair as he quietly pondered. I was used to this, for he often became pensive when he was upset. Usually we ended up in a similar position.

The great shout that interrupted our reverie was not usual, however—both of us jumped off of the log as if we had just been shocked. We turned to see the others as equally surprised as we were.

"What was that?" Lalaithion asked.

"It came from the direction of the dwarves," Tasarë replied, quickly climbing to the top of the nearest tree to see what it was.

A blood-curdling feminine scream and a heavy crash of metal and smoke resounded through the air as Tasarë gave a gasp. "They are under attack!" he said as he scrambled down out of the tree. "At least two hundred orcs, perhaps more!"

"What? Where did they come from all of a sudden?" Menellion demanded.

Nurhoth sheathed his sword. "I do not know. Douse the fire and let us go. Quietly now, we must make haste. Stealth shall be our advantage."

I pulled my bow from behind my quiver and fell into line behind Nurhoth, Legolas, Tasarë, and Menellion. Fânwen was behind me with Galenparth, Lalaithion, and Gloriavas bringing up the rear. We quietly sneaked into the darkness to aid the dwarves. I found myself hoping in my heart that the second panicked scream I had heard had not been that of the unarmed and unprepared dwarf-Lady Glís.

*****

Adar/Ada --father/daddy

Naneth/nana --mother/mom

elleth --elf-maiden

nogothrim --dwarves, dwarf-folk

perian --hobbit

navaer --good bye

Caun nîn --my prince

So it seems that Gloin is a bit of a misogynist, lol. This was where the AU came into play. Gimli makes the comment about few dwarf women and the movie Aragorn says that thing about "beards" but I figured that maybe those statements could be taken as a myth, considering that no one knows much about lady dwarves.

Also I didn’t know much of what elves would want in a feast. There was another thing that maybe no one caught that I still thought I should explain. Everyone in Middle-earth always says, "I’m so-and-so, son of so-and-so" so I figured it was appropriate for the women to do it, as well. So in Sorayaiel’s case it’s a bit complex. She wouldn’t go through the whole sordid family history, so to make things easier she would just say "Thranduiliel" which might confuse people because Legolas is "Thranduilion". It confused my roommate anyway. But my reasoning is that since they are married anyway, Thranduil is, in effect, her Adar, and it would be appropriate for her to say this without people who don’t know the whole history saying "Wait a minute, you are married to your brother?" Okay glad I explained that just in case.