Chapter 9 - “Curiouser and Curiouser”

The ground rose steeply for a mile or two until, at last, they came to a ridge below which was spread a plain. Penny could see how close they were to the mountains now. Her heart trembled. She knew this scene. She had read it so many times since she was a child: Bilbo and the dwarves being led by Gandalf on the first part of their journey.

She had a mixture of terror, wonder and incredulity within her still. She could not shake off the desperation she had felt at the ford born from the knowledge that she was either insane or in the middle of something terrifying. Neither possibility filled her with hope or comfort, yet they were they only two possibilities left to her and, worryingly, she really, really doubted now that she was mad.

In a strange way the constant of Halbarad, his smelly tunic and his broad, strong back was the one thing she found comforting. She let her head rest between his shoulders, the slow and silent tears wetting into the fabric, as she watched the foothills pass her by.

They travelled all day. The ground rose slowly as they climbed one hill then another. They were getting steadily higher and ever closer to the mountains, which now loomed huge and ominous ahead.

Every now and then Halbarad would slow or stop the horse completely, look around him as if checking his bearings and then spur the horse into a canter once more. Her words at the ford had perturbed him and he was reminded once more of her mention of Aragorn and his lineage back in Bree. He could feel her hold on him still tense around him, knew she was weeping every now and then. He wanted to reach Rivendell as soon as he could now. Something was not right. Not right at all.

At long last they were among trees and the ground was rising without end, it seemed to Penny. Halbarad had slowed the horse to a trot, and then to a walk and was looking from side to side as if for signs of the path.

“Just as Gandalf did,” she muttered, remembering her mother reading to her late at night when she was small, over and over again.

She shook her head. This was craziness. This was... for God’s sake she was at the foot of the Misty Mountains and probably about to meet Elrond himself as well as the entire Fellowship! Words failed her. She was still in shock. Her mind reeling. She was surprised by how cold and numb she felt. Her screaming and railing against her predicament had been only when she felt she had some kind of near logical story for what was happening to her, but this... THIS! She had absolutely no adequate response to this. She just wanted to curl up into a ball and hide. Forever.

Suddenly they came to the top of steep downward slope. Halbarad said something and turned his head to Penny. She looked up and realised he was pointing ahead, down into a valley. She could see twinkling lights below. She was blinded with tears once more.

Halbarad heard her sob. He shook his head and started the horse down the zigzagging path.

When they reached level ground, Penny noticed there were no laughing or singing voices above them in the trees as there had been for Bilbo and his companions. After an hour they came to the meadows on either side of the river and ahead Penny could see a bridge. Suddenly Halbarad stopped the horse and greeted someone ahead of them. Penny, peering round his shoulder, gasped.

The dark-haired elf, dressed in greens and greys, looked at her and inclined his head.

“Mae govannen, hiril nin.”

She nodded. “Mae govannen.” She stared. She couldn’t help herself. He, too, was beautiful in a way that was utterly unimaginable. His voice was soft and lilting like honeyed wine.

“You are expected, Halbarad. And your companion. You should know Aragorn has returned safely and with his charges.”

“Yes, I guessed as much at the ford.”

The elf nodded. “They will tell you more, no doubt. Navaer”

“Navaer, Narion.”

“Navaer,” said Penny as they passed the elf by.

He inclined his head in response with a wry smile on his face as he watched the mortal woman stare at him with what was clearly astonishment and not a little fear in her eyes. She even craned her neck right round so she could keep him in sight as long as possible. Narion laughed softly as he wondered what her reaction would be within the walls of Imladris itself. He chuckled and headed off into the trees.

‘And here we are. Of course. The bridge with no parapet, so narrow that...’

She couldn’t help but smile then when Halbarad stopped before the bridge, got off the horse and held his hand to her to help her down. He then urged her to go first while he led the horse across the bridge behind her. He could hear her muttering to herself once more, staring about her as if in wonderment.

Ahead were more trees, nestling up against one side of the steep valley, and through them Penny could now make out buildings in the darkness, and the twinkle of lights.

Once over the bridge they mounted his horse again and trotted in their direction. Now she heard singing, laughing, and chattering. All around it seemed. She turned her head this way and that, trying to determine where it was coming from. Above her. Always above her. She could feel tears in her eyes yet again.

A wall loomed before them suddenly in which was set a huge gate, wooden but with silver inlay in the shape of two trees. As they approached they swung open and Penny could see two elves, one on either side, first pulling them back and then pushing them to allow their horse passage through. They greeted Halbarad smilingly, as if he were well known to them, and he returned their greeting. Penny was too stunned to say anything at all.

She was staring at the building ahead of her now, trying to take it in. Halbarad was slowing his animal and then stopping. He jumped down and helped Penny descend, then turned to start untying his pack. Even as he did so four or five elves seemingly appeared from nowhere to greet him and take his things from him.

Penny’s stomach was a bundle of nerves, she felt dizzy, her head swimming as she stared at them. The sight of Elladan had thrown her completely but to see so many elves all together was nearly as shocking for her.

They murmured greetings to her, seeing she was unused to elves by the expression on her face, smiling gently at her. Halbarad turned as an elf took his pack and another led away his horse to see Penny white and trembling and... whimpering slightly.

She was finding all this very hard to deal with. Very. He came to her and she gripped hold of his arm. Tightly. Still staring fixedly at the elves and feeling the hysteria rising.

She wasn’t sure if she was about to start crying, laughing or screaming.

“Pen-ii, do not fear,” Halbarad said gently. “They will not harm you, you have my word. They are a gentle and loving people. Come, Pen-ii. Come with me.”

He gently led her up the stairs, two elves coming with them. One, with his pack, was saying that Elrond had been informed of his arrival, and that chambers had been made ready for them both. Halbarad nodded.

“See she is taken care of. She does not speak our languages. Any of them. She is very nervous and frightened and unused to elves. I must see Elrond immediately. And Aragorn. Where is he?”

They were led down corridors and up stairs. Penny kept hearing snatches of chatter and song echoing to her through the hallways, muffled as if coming through several closed doors.

Penny was walking slower and slower as she looked around her in amazement. The floors were decorated with mosaics and tiles, the walls with paintings and tapestries. She wanted to stop and stare at each one. She knew she could never invent something like this in a million years. No bloody way. It couldn’t be illusion or hallucination. It was truly stunning. The craftsmanship and delicate beauty of everything just astounded her. Halbarad, with some impatience, had to call her several times to catch up with them. She would apologise and hurry to them only for something else to then catch her eye. At last Halbarad stopped and turned to her.

“This elleth will take you to your chambers. I will come for you later. I have to speak to Elrond. Elrond? Lord Elrond?”

She nodded. Was he going to take her to him now? He didn’t move, though, and instead looked beside her to one of the elves walking with them.

She turned to see the female elf was smiling at her kindly. She beckoned to her and began to walk down the corridor. Penny looked at Halbarad.

He could see the panic in her eyes once more. She said his name questioningly and hesitantly obviously unsure that she wanted to leave him. He smiled and nodded and gestured towards the elf.

“Go, Pen-ii. You will be well looked after I assure you.”

She slowly started to follow the elf. She stopped, looked back at him, saw him smiling and gesturing for her to continue, and turned to follow the elf once more.

She didn’t know why she felt so ill at ease now without him about. Ridiculous. Especially given what a pain in the backside he’d been. She stopped herself. That was hardly his fault, though, was it? How else would a warrior from six thousand years ago react to some screaming banshee from the twenty-first century?

She felt the knots in her stomach once more and shook her head. Six thousand years ago! Or more! This was utterly ridiculous. How the bloody hell did she get here? What was going on?

The elf led her up another flight of stairs and down another corridor where Penny could see a door was open and one or two elves were busy coming in and out. The elf stopped and gestured for Penny to enter. She did. Her breath caught in her throat.

There was a huge double bed between two large windows, one of which seemed to have a balcony. There was a fire lit and a tub with steam coming from it, which was clearly what the elves had been busying themselves with as she had come down the corridor.

She stood in the middle of the room and spun slowly, taking it all in. The walls were painted with woodland scenes: waterfalls, trees, flowers, vistas of valleys and hills. On one the sea could be seen in the distance and swan shaped boats ploughed the waves. It was extraordinary and wonderful.

The elf was talking to her. She turned. The elleth indicated a dress and undershift laid out on the bed. There were a pair of slippers at the foot of the bed.

“For me?” Penny pointed to herself, in some astonishment. The elf nodded. Penny gasped. “Le hannon.” The elf smiled and inclined her head.

Then Penny noticed that on a chest of drawers some towels, a comb, a scrubbing brush, soap and some jars had been placed. She went over to them.

“What are these?” she asked, pointing at the jars. There were three of them.

The elf smiled. She picked up the first, the smallest of the three, and pointed at the bath. She pulled the cork out of the neck and offered it to Penny who sniffed. It was lavender. Lavender oil. The elf then pointed at the bath. Penny went over to it and realised the scent of lavender was coming from the steam.

She grinned. MUCH better than The Prancing Pony.

“And the other two?” she asked, indicating them.

She hoped. She prayed. Please let it be. Please.

The elf pointed to her hair.

Thank God. Thank you, thank you God!

“YES!” she gasped, her fist curled in triumph.

The elf laughed. She pointed at one bottle and held up one finger, then to the other and held up two fingers.

Penny nodded. THAT she understood. She grinned. “Le hannon! Le hannon, le hannon, le hannon. Le hannon SO bloody much! I can’t even TELL you how much!” She said ‘le hannon’ once more just for good measure till the elf was giggling.

There was one item which puzzled her, though. It looked like a twig. One end had been cut, the bark or outer layer stripped away to the length of half an inch, and then the ‘inside’ of the twig frayed almost like a brush. Penny sniffed at it. It seemed scented. Spicey. Like cinnamon or nutmeg. She looked quizzically at the elf and held it up to her.

“What is this?”

The elf smiled and tapped her teeth.

Penny gasped, in wonder and delight. “You are joking! You mean.. Dear God! I can finally brush my teeth! Oh, thank you! Le hannon!”

The elf beamed, amused and pleased at Penny’s enthusiasm. So unusual for a mortal. They normally enjoyed stinking and regarded all such things with deep suspicion.

Penny wondered how dreadful she looked. She had noticed a mirror with all the other things laid out for her but had not dared look in it yet. The elf was talking to her again, smiling, and was heading for the door.

“Wait. I’m Penny,” she pointed at herself. “Penny. You?” she pointed at the elf.

The elf just smiled in incomprehension and left.

Penny sighed. Well at least she could get CLEAN! Finally! Joy of joys! Wonder of wonders! She did a little skip in the room. Only now did she venture over to the mirror and hold it up.

Oh my GOD! What did she look like! She almost forgave Elladan his behaviour over the comb. Not quite. But almost. She was filthy! Absolutely filthy. She knew she stank too. Now she could see the state of herself she felt desperately embarrassed somehow, especially given the beauty of the elves. Whatever must they have thought!

The linen to dry herself with was softer and more absorbant than had been the case in Bree. The scrubbing brush was softer also, not likely to take off layers of skin with the dirt, and in addition there was also a kind of flannel made of a rougher material than the towels. The soap was scented with rose as far as Penny could tell, and the shampoo, as well as what she presumed to be conditioner, smelt of herbs and honey. Penny beamed. She was going to THOROUGHLY enjoy this.

She bolted the door, undressed and sank back into the warm water with a sigh.

A little later, as she dressed she tried not to think about where she was, what she was doing, or who she was likely to meet in the next few days if not this very evening. She admired the dress, a pale green, in the light of the candles and lanterns ranged round the room. The slippers were made of brown suede or something similar. The dress fitted her very well, much better than the one from Bree had.

‘Clearly elves don’t have such big boobs,’ she smirked. Again it was shaped, but not tight, and reached to the ankle.

As she towel dried her wet hair and combed it, delighted at how easily the comb slipped through her tresses now she had conditioned it, there was a knock on the door. She stood, opened it and was actually quite pleased to find the familiar face on the other side of it. A familiar face who was, at last, wearing a clean tunic rather than the ill-smelling one the back of which she had got to know so intimately over the last week.

“Halbarad!”

He grinned. It made a change for her to not be weeping or snarling at him.

“Are you ready? They have laid some food out for us if you are hungry. Then there are some people who you must meet. As a matter of urgency.”

He did not know why he was telling her all this since she would not understand a word but he felt in fairness and honour he had to keep her informed.

He had been pleased to discover Gandalf here, though his news had been black indeed. He, Aragorn and Elrond had been deep in conversation with Glorfindel in Elrond’s private study when he had found them all. He had given them only the barest facts of Penny but even the little he had said had intrigued and worried them all.

“She named me? And two of my titles!” Aragorn could scarcely believe it.

Halbarad nodded. “I hope she may have a message for you from someone who knows you well but my heart tells me that is not the case. She said ‘Aragorn’, ‘Estel’, ‘Elessar’ and then near enough in the next breath said ‘Gondor’ and ‘Arnor’.”

Aragorn shook his head and looked dark. Gandalf, sucking at his pipe, took this all in in silence.

Elrond was speaking, “And you say she had heard of Elladan and his lineage?”

Halbarad nodded, “As soon as I said his name she mentioned you, Celebrian, Arwen and Elrohir. It is all very strange.”

“It is indeed,” grumbled Gandalf. “A matter that must be looked into, without a doubt. An intriguing one. Most intriguing.”

Halbarad turned to Glorfindel. “Tell me what part you played at the ford? With the Nine?”

There was an uneasy glance between them all. Glorfindel, with help from Aragorn, explained what had happened.

“Why?” asked Aragorn, seeing his friend’s face grow stern, “What is it?”

Halbarad was shaking his head. “It is not possible.” He looked at them, “I could see the tracks: hobbits, a man, a pony and horses. Many horses. I worked out that you had crossed the ford and the Nazgul had also attempted to do so and been foiled in that attempt. She did not get off the horse. She could not have known anything from the tracks since she never saw them. Yet not only did she know,” he paused and looked at Glorfindel now, “She also mentioned you and Asfaloth. It was as if she knew exactly what had happened. Exactly as you have described it to me.”

There was a collective gasp.

“But that’s impossible! How could she have known? Even if you had been able to make out that Maura crossed the ford on a horse, you could not have been certain of its name or rider!” Aragorn was stunned.

“Exactly,” Halbarad nodded. “This is the very reason I brought her with me. She knows much. Knows more than seems possible. And yet...”

“And yet she knows nothing and behaves strangely, as you said,” interrupted Gandalf. “Very interesting indeed. We must meet her. Immediately.”

Halbarad nodded, “Of course, Mithrandir. But we must have a bite to eat first. She is also... How shall I put it? Distressed. There is something very wrong, though I know not what. We must question her, and as soon as possible, but we must do so gently.”

The others agreed.

Halbarad lead Penny down stairs and through corridors once more. This place was huge! She knew she would get hopelessly lost if left to herself. She tried to keep pace with Halbarad (who, being tall, was striding out at quite a rate through the hallways) since she was terrified that if she lost him she’d never find him again. Eventually he stopped and motioned her through a door. There was a small antechamber with a fire, a table with food laid out on it and lit torches in the wall brackets.

There was soup, bread, wine, cheese, cold meats, fruit and it was delightful. The soup was vegetable; the bread clearly freshly made; the cheese was not dissimilar to feta: a crisp salty taste and white and crumbly. The wine was fantastic!

And she needed a drink. A large drink. Gin would have been better but wine would just have to do for the time being. She wondered briefly if elves made hooch, moonshine or anything similar. She could do with getting absolutely hammered right now. Might make everything so far seem FAR more sensible if she was as pissed as a fart. She’d probably be able to ignore it all much more successfully. She sighed and downed her cup in one.

Halbarad stared at her in astonishment as she then held out her cup to him asking for a second. He shook his head. “No, Pen-ii. You are about to meet Lord Elrond. This is strong stuff and you cannot meet him drunk.”

She scowled at him. He had been so nice to her the last few days and now he was being his old pig-headed arsewipe self.

“Halbarad! I need a drink. I am in the maddest possible situation and you cannot even BEGIN to imagine what I am going through. If I AM going to lose my sanity I’d prefer to do it while completely blotto if you don’t mind. Now give me some bloody wine!”

He shook his head.

She slammed down her cup and made a lunge to grab the bottle from him. “Give me that, you PIG!”

He narrowed his eyes at her as he pulled it out of her reach. “No!” he snarled. Then he pointedly picked up a jug of water and poured that into her cup instead.

She nearly threw it at him. Seriously considered it. It was only because she remembered he still had his sword on his belt that she stopped herself.

Halbarad saw her hand twitch towards the cup as her face twisted in anger and then her eyes flick to his sword as she drew her hand back.

‘Sensible woman,’ he thought to himself.

He would have had to show ENORMOUS self-restraint if she had hit him with that cup. And from such close range. She glared at him and he glowered back.

“No, Pen-ii. Elrond. You. You drunk is NOT a good idea.”

She was still standing. He scowled, raising an eyebrow at her, and said threateningly, “Pen-ii...!”

She slowly lowered herself back into her seat. She wasn’t going to win this, she knew.

“Who the bloody hell does he think he is! My father! Probably old enough to be, but that’s not the sodding point. Bastard!”

She was grumbling and muttering to herself. Halbarad watched her as he pulled a grape or two from the bunch in front of him. He sighed and shook his head. Well, better her grumbling than thinking about hitting him in the head with a terracotta cup, he supposed.

Once they had finished eating he motioned for her to follow him once more. Once or twice they passed an elf or two in the corridors. Penny still found it all very strange and pressed herself close to Halbarad every time.

He smiled at her nervousness and let her cling onto his arm.

At last he stopped before a heavy wooden door. He knocked. Penny suddenly felt very nervous and Halbarad felt her grip on his elbow tighten. There was a muffled response from inside the room and Halbarad pushed open the door and led her in.

She followed him, tentatively, not daring to breathe at what she suspected may be in front of her.

The figure seated to one side of the desk she knew immediately to be Gandalf. It couldn’t be anyone else with the long white hair and beard, the enormous eyebrows and the long grey robes. A staff was leaning against the arm of his chair.

Beside him, seated at the desk itself, was an elf leaning to one side slightly with one elbow on the desk and his hand in front of his mouth as he watched her. He had long dark hair, a circlet around his head that shone brilliantly in the firelight and jewels glinted at his throat from the collar on his tunic, which, even from here, she could see was intricately embroidered with silk and golden threads. Looking at him she immediately was reminded of Elladan. Elrond, like his son, was stunningly beautiful. His skin near shone in its paleness, and his tall frame screamed elegance and poise with an underlying strength. He looked very relaxed, very at ease, and yet she could tell those eyes were sharp in their assessment of her, watching her every move, and his face was cold and impassive. She felt even more nervous as soon as she saw him.

The third figure was a man standing and leaning against a huge bookcase that spanned the entire wall through which the doorway was cut. He had a cup in one hand and was sipping from it slowly as she walked towards them. She guessed immediately who it had to be. He looked very like Halbarad, was easily as tall as him perhaps even more so, and had the same dark hair and grey eyes. He too was watching her intently.

She felt utterly overwhelmed at the thought of exactly WHO she was in the presence of as she looked at first one, then another of the four males in the room. She had stopped, was standing absolutely still, trying not to think about it and yet unable to stop her brain shouting their names at her over and over again.

She shook her head and muttered, “Get a grip, Pen, get a bloody grip. This is weird, this is insane, but there’s not a lot you can do about it. Just go with the flow, love, just go with the flow.”

Her pep talk wasn’t helping much she had to admit. She was losing it. She could feel it. This was mad. Madder than a seriously mad thing. So insane in fact that she could feel the giggling rising within her. She fought it. She had to. It would not go down well, she knew, if she started roaring with laughter at a Maia, a future king, and one of the most famous and noble elves in Middle Earth. But even THAT thought just made the laughter build even more.

She glanced at Halbarad. She snorted, trying to keep it in, and brought her hand to her mouth, desperately trying to keep herself under control.

Halbarad was shaking his head at her. Aragorn was looking bemused. Elrond was less than impressed and had an eyebrow raised in astonishment. But Gandalf had a soft smile on his face though he said nothing.

Halbarad, exchanging a glance with the others, had stopped to let her recover herself. He said her name quietly and eventually managed to steer her to a chair in front of the desk and gestured her to sit while he sat next to her.

She felt the laughter subsiding to be replaced once more by nerves and a desperate panic rising within her as her heart sank. She could feel herself trembling, breaking out into a cold sweat. They were going to want answers, explanations, and, frankly, she was the last person who could give them to them.

‘Though, if anyone might be able to explain..,’ she thought, glancing at Gandalf.

There was a moment of silence as the four regarded her for a moment, taking in her obvious fear and discomfort. They all sensed that she somehow knew them all to be important people and that that was affecting her also.

Penny felt desperately uncomfortable and stared at her knees, hoping the ground would open up and swallow her.

‘Now would be a good time to wake up. Now. Wake up, Pen! Now! NOW! WAKE UP!’

She clutched her fingers into her palms, the nails digging in. No, the pain was real. She WAS here. This WAS happening.

She hadn’t realised they were watching her, watching her dig her nails into her hands, watching as she muttered to herself under her breath, squeezing her eyes tight shut as if willing herself to do something. They all exchanged a glance.

Halbarad spoke, “Did I not warn you? All this behaviour started some days ago and has not lessened, except in its severity perhaps.” He lifted her hand and showed them the healing cuts, “This she did to herself against the bridge. I have no idea why.”

Gandalf had been staring at her intently, chewing on the end of his pipe. “She is frightened. Very frightened. Confused. Bewildered even. She is... she is lost.”

Elrond nodded, “Yes, I sense that from her too.”

Gandalf nodded, “But there is something else. I cannot fathom it. Not yet.”

Penny shook her head and sighed. Her embarrassment at Halbarad showing them her hand and no doubt explaining what had happened was acute. They wouldn’t understand. She didn’t understand, for God’s sake.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Really. Goheno. Goheno.” She burst into tears.

“What is this? Is she mad?” asked Elrond.

Halbarad looked at him, “I have wondered exactly that on more than one occasion, my lord.”

“No, I do not think she is mad,” said Gandalf shaking his head. “There is a reason for all this, I can sense it. I think we just need to give her time.”

“Pen-ii? Pen-ii.” She looked at Halbarad as he said her name, wiping at her eyes, her nerves and confusion evident in her face. He gestured to the other three, Aragorn now having come to sit in the empty chair between Elrond and Halbarad so the five formed a circle. “Pen-ii. Let me introduce you. This is..”

Penny held up her hand to his arm and forced him to lower it. She suspected he was going to introduce her. She looked at him and shook her head.

“I know who they are, Halbarad.”

He looked at her questioningly.

She stood, bowed as well as she could given how much she was trembling, and said, “Mae govannen. I am Penny. Penelope Baker. Penny. It is an honour to meet you all.”

She knew they wouldn’t understand her, but she felt it needed to be said. She turned to each of them, saying ‘mae govannen’ and their names. Then she sat down, nervously, waiting to see what would happen next.

There was a stunned silence for a few seconds.

The three she had addressed had looked startled as she said each of their names but recovered themselves very quickly, nodded and murmured their greetings in return. Then there was hurried chatter between the four males in Sindarin.

Then came the questions.

One after another from all four of them.

She did not understand any one of them. Aragorn tried talking to her in every language he knew, as did Gandalf. Nothing. Not even the various dialects of Westron they knew, not any of the languages of the East or the South, from Harad or further.

She just sat there looking more and more bewildered, more and more distressed and frustrated, till at last she cried out, “Please! I can’t cope with this! No more, I beg you! I don’t understand you! Can’t you see that? I.. I don’t... I don’t bloody understand!” She collapsed, weeping, back into her chair.

It was late. She was tired and it was clear nothing further could be done that night. They had pushed her as hard as they dared for now.

After talking together briefly once more they agreed that this was enough for now. It was clear she spoke no language that they knew. That in itself was a very great mystery and more than enough to chew over for the time being.

Halbarad turned to her and spoke gently, telling her she could go to her chambers and making gestures to indicate sleeping. She got the gist of it, nodded and stood.

It was only as she did so that she spotted her PJs on Elrond’s desk, pushed to one side. Halbarad had brought them to show them her strange attire when he had found her: not only strange in its design, and that a female should be wearing it, but also the material and the stitching, which was the most even and perfect stitching he, or the others, had ever seen.

She gasped, the mortification and embarrassment clear on her face to Aragorn, Elrond and Gandalf who were facing her. She snatched them from the desk and rounded on Halbarad.

“What the bloody hell is this! How DARE you! It’s bad enough YOU saw me in my pyjamas, let alone showing them to every bloody male in the building! Thank God I didn’t have underwear with me, otherwise no doubt you’d be waving my bras around too! It’s a bloody liberty, Halbarad! NOT ON!”

She stood there, glowering at him. Aragorn and Gandalf exchanged a look and smirked. Elrond, shocked that she had behaved in such a manner in his presence, nevertheless found it amusing to see her berating Halbarad, a brave and noble man to whom no-one would normally dare speak in such a manner.

Halbarad glared at her. How DARE she speak to him like this in front of others and ones such as these!

“Pen-ii, I warned you at the inn to keep a civil tongue in your head,” he growled.

She could tell he was angry, but so was she. She realised her clothes were strange to them, but that wasn’t the point. She was tired and fed up and very emotional right now.

“I know I’m just some freak to you all. But.. but.. you could have asked, or done it while I was here, or something. You didn’t have to just wave my pyjamas about to all and sundry, Halbarad. That’s just rude.” She sobbed pathetically.

Gandalf spoke, “I think you have embarrassed her. I feel she is ashamed that we have seen these clothes. Perhaps they are not meant for public show.”

“Then why was she wandering about in them?” Halbarad muttered angrily.

Gandalf shook his head as he replied, “But why was she wandering about barefoot? How did she get to a place where she knows neither the customs nor the language without more damage to her feet? There are many questions. She is upset. It may be well for you to apologise.”

“WHAT!” Halbarad exploded. “You have to be joking, Mithrandir!”

Gandalf remained impassive. “Not at all, Halbarad.”

Halbarad looked at Gandalf; then at Elrond who shrugged his shoulders trying to stay aloof and neutral; then at Aragorn who was snorting into his cup.

“It’s NOT funny,” Halbarad growled.

Aragorn muttered an apology, coughed and bit his lip in an effort to control himself.

Only now, as Halbarad turned to her to apologise, did they realise that Penny had moved. She was staring at the wall opposite Elrond’s desk where there hung a large tapestry that covered the entire wall. She was clearly transfixed by it and was walking towards it slowly, clutching her PJs tightly to her chest.

As she neared, she could see the detail clearly in the flickering candlelight. It was exquisite. It was a woodland scene in the centre of which stood two figures: a male and female. The female, an elf, was beautiful. Though, in truth, that word could not truly do her justice. It brought tears to Penny’s eyes just to see her. She had dark hair flowing about her shoulders, her skin the palest white and round her neck was a necklace the like of which Penny had never seen. At its centre shone a single jewel whose light seemed to fill the entire picture. The male was human, also dark haired. He reminded her of both Halbarad and Aragorn, though there was something about the jaw that she had seen in both Elladan and his father, like a family resemblance. She gasped as she saw the figure was one-handed.

The four were watching her. Halbarad looked at Gandalf.

“What do you think? She recognises the figures?”

Aragorn shook his head, “How could she? Who outside of the elves or Dúnedain and one or two learned peoples in Gondor remember such tales?”

Gandalf rose and walked over to Penny. She heard his footfall and turned to him. He saw her cheeks wet with tears.

“It is beautiful. Truly.”

He somehow guessed her meaning and nodded. He turned to the other three, “She weeps at its beauty.”

Elrond nodded and smiled. He had placed it opposite his desk for a very good reason and delighted in taking a break from his work or reading now and then and being able to look up and study it for a while.

“Do you know who they are, my child?” Gandalf was asking her. She furrowed her brows, but he asked her again and gestured at the tapestry.

She nodded, guessing what he was asking. She pointed to the female. “This is Luthien. She is wearing the Nauglamir with the Silmaril.” She did not notice the stunned intake of breath behind her from the other end of the room. “And this is Beren. Beren One-Hand.”

She turned to Gandalf and, being sideways on to the other three they could all see her gesture clearly as she said ‘Silmaril’ and pointed to the palm of her hand and closed her hand into a fist. Then she said, ‘Carcharoth’ and clamped her other hand over the fist as if a mouth were biting it. Gandalf nodded, smiling, and glanced back to the others who were in shock.

Penny looked at the kindly eyes under those bushy eyebrows. A tear fell.

“Mithrandir... Do you really not understand me? I had hoped you, you of all of them, might.”

He had one eyebrow raised at her. Clearly she had some hope of him, though what it was he could not guess.

She was pleading now. “Mithrandir! Please! Can’t you understand me?” He smiled kindly at her but gave no answer. She sighed, the tears falling faster. “After all aren’t you...?”

She hesitated and glanced to the other three. She did not know if they would know who Gandalf truly was. She suspected Elrond might, possibly Aragorn also. But she could not know for sure. She looked at Gandalf.

He was watching her closely, wondering what it was she wanted to say that she seemed worried to say in front of the others. They watched also.

She leant forward, put one hand on his shoulder and whispered in his ear. “I know you are Olorin. A Maia. Do you really not understand me?” She stood back. The shock in his face was evident, but he showed no sign of understanding her question. “You don’t do you?” The tears were falling fast. “You really don’t! Oh God. Oh my God! This... How? How can I even begin to explain this?”

She turned to them all now, weeping in her distress and confusion, her breath coming short and fast. “How? Tell me!”

Her words caught in her throat. She could feel her knees buckling, the room spinning, as it all overwhelmed her once again.

Halbarad, seeing her going, ran to her as Aragorn and Elrond leapt up from their chairs with a cry. Gandalf caught her just as Halbarad reached her and together they laid her gently on the floor. Halbarad looked up at Aragorn and Elrond as they came over to them.

“Do you have some understanding now? You understand both why I brought her and why I am concerned – both by her behaviour and the knowledge she shows?”

All three nodded.

Gandalf was pale, his jaw set, and his eyes dark. His voice was thick as he said, “Halbarad, I think you had better take her to her chambers. We will deal with this tomorrow.”

Halbarad nodded, lifted her into his arms and, as Aragorn held the door open for him, he walked down the corridor with her.

As Aragorn closed the door and turned back into the room he saw Gandalf’s expression was grim, his eyes showing his confusion and concern. Gandalf looked from Aragorn to Elrond.

“Do you know what she whispered to me just now?”

As he told them both they gasped and stared at Gandalf in disbelief.

The Arabs still use such things to clean the teeth: it’s called a ‘siwak’ and it is in fact a kind of root.

‘Maura’ is Frodo’s real name (in Westron).

It is not an inconceivable assumption (Gandalf being so close to Aragorn as well as Aragorn having grown up in Rivendell under Elrond’s tutelage and care) that Aragorn would know of Gandalf’s origin and true nature. He might, he might not – and both positions could be validly held and argued for. Please allow me this poetic licence. :) Galadriel certainly knew (as is clear from Unfinished Tales) and, one assumes therefore, the rest of the White Council and hence Elrond.