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Okay, NOW Panic!  by Boz4PM

Chapter 7“She’ll Be Coming Round The Mountain”


It had taken every stubborn bone in her body (of which Penny had many) to resist Lindir and Erestor’s request for another song. In the end she had led the discussion over the meaning of the riddle-like lyrics which in turn led to a musing on mortal love in general.

‘Fickle’ seemed to be the word used by Lindir and Erestor (once Erestor had explained its meaning and Penny had managed to think of its English equivalent); that, and ‘hasty.’ Mortals are not very good at ‘controlling themselves or taking time to make the right decisions,’ she was informed.

“Dunedain are probably the exception,” Erestor had added. “Though even they can have their moments. They are mortals, after all.”

Penny was not sure if she should be offended or not. She decided not since they were being terribly matter-of-fact about it all and she knew enough about LACE from her days trawling through online discussions about the merits or otherwise of ‘History of Middle-earth’ to know how elves were different in these respects. Even so, it was a bit much.

“Lindir thought my songs would be rude.”

Erestor raised an eyebrow. “Are they not?”

“No!”

“It would make a change if they were not,” Lindir sighed slightly wearily. “Mortal love is all too often so...”

He could not think of the word and left the sentence unfinished, but Penny could tell they were less than impressed. This was nothing new, of course. She knew well enough the general opinion on humans that the elves held by now. Dunedain were invariably seen as the exception to the rule. Seeing the elves' interaction with ‘normal’ mortals in Rohan and Gondor would be quite entertaining, she decided.

“Yes, well, we cannot afford to wait a century or two before we decide if we are in love or not. Time is of the essence for us, you know, otherwise there would not be any more humans.”

They laughed then. It did make Penny realise, though, that humans, even long-lived Dunedain, would be marrying at an age that, for an elf, would still be childhood.

Deeply odd.

The next day both Arwen and Elrond made a point of laughingly scolding her for singing something of her own without their being there to hear it. Penny noted they did not ask her to repeat the song, though, and wondered if that was because of word about her ‘merely reasonable’ voice or the ‘typically simplistic’ song had preceded her.

Both, she suspected.

However, Glorfindel made a great show over breakfast of being terribly offended he had not been expressly invited to hear the performance. Penny could tell he was not being serious because his eyes were twinkling like mad and he winked at her at one point, but insisting she sing for him then and there over bread and jam was taking it a little too far, she felt. She knew he was only doing it out of a mixture of politeness and frivolity, not because he genuinely wanted to hear her warble at him.

“Not even Lindir sings this early in the morning,” she pointed out.

At which point, just to be bloody-minded, Lindir started up a jaunty ballad.

“Ai, Lindir, it is far too early for such things,” Celebdor complained, flapping his hands at Lindir for him to be quiet. “Something soothing and gentle, perhaps, but not that.”

“Like Pen-ii’s song,” beamed Glorfindel.

Penny just shook her head with a sigh.

“Stop teasing her so.” Mireth was standing up for her.

“It was a shame I missed it.” Eleniel seemed genuinely put out. “Perhaps next time?”

“If there is a next time... which there will not be.”

“Now, now, Pen-ii,” said Lindir in a warning tone. “Never say ‘never.’”

At which point Penny gave up and went to saddle her horse, leaving the sound of soft elvish laughter behind her.

The problem was that in some respects she was relaxing and feeling at home with them all at last. It meant she forgot herself on occasion. This was all very well in the comparatively private moments she had in Imladris, but on the road like this, with near enough the entire population of Imladris surrounding her twenty-four hours a day, it was difficult to remember that she should not really hum old Queen numbers or a medley of The Beatles' greatest hits to herself. Or not if she did not want them to elicit comment, anyway.

Lindir kept hearing snatches of very unelvish tunes wafting on the breeze on occasion, however. Penny would resolutely refuse to believe him when he said she had been humming, or feigned ignorance of which tune it might have been. It got to the point that Lindir started trying to make a note of the tunes anyway and repeating them back to her, much to Penny’s amusement.

Once she realised that he was only really interested in them musically, to analyse them, she relaxed about it all a bit more. In addition it was clear that no one was terribly bothered if her tunes sounded simplistic or bizarre since she was, after all, both human and foreign and therefore it was (it was made abundantly clear) only to be expected. She still point blank refused to do another public performance, though.

And so the days passed by.

Every day’s scenery was much the same as the one before, the pace leisurely and gentle. Even so they seemed to be making good ground. There was rain for a couple of days, which the elves did not seem too bothered by, but Penny found miserable in the extreme. She was very grateful for the hooded cloak she had been given before they left. It had been coated with some kind of waterproofing which did keep the worst of the rain out, but by the second day of non-stop rain she was beginning to feel decidedly damp and sniffley.

They had been travelling nearly a week and a half and Penny, sniffing constantly and feeling chilled to the bone despite it being mid-May, was sitting as close as she dared to the fire without actually catching her skirts alight.

“Have you changed that damp dress?” Eleniel was concerned.

Penny nodded. “Still feel cold, though.” She inched a bit closer to the fire.

“Any closer and you will be sitting in it, Pen-ii!” Mireth laughed. Even so she exchanged a glance with Eleniel. “Let me get some herbs, something to stave off any chill.”

Penny let them get on with it. The last thing she needed was to get ill. Mireth prepared some spicy, honeyed concoction. There was another mug of it before Penny went to sleep, and again at breakfast. Breakfast in drizzle – that was not entirely pleasant, it had to be said. The rain actually meant everyone ate in their tents or under awnings, so meals were less sociable than usual in some respects. Thankfully, the skies cleared a little and, while cloudy, at least gave Penny the opportunity to finally dry off and feel slightly more enthusiastic about travelling once more. The herbs had certainly helped. If she was grateful for nothing else, it was that she was in very capable hands being surrounded by elves. She dreaded to think what might have happened if she had been discovered by anyone other than a Dunadan or elf.

She was beginning to get footsore and saddle sore too. She had taken to using the balm Mireth had given her on her backside and thighs every night, as well as massaging it into the soles of her feet. It helped enormously, but nothing would get rid of the aches and pains completely.

‘And I still have another month and a half of this to go,’ Penny thought mournfully to herself.

The routine of the days made them pass easily enough. She was getting nowhere fast with her Westron, but she kept trying at it. The reading was enjoyable enough, though. Erestor found her slight obsession with Tuor mildly amusing and said as much to her. Penny decided it best not to mention the fact that nearly every Tolkien nut in her world had at least one male lust object or pairing they were obsessed with, and that Erestor was subject to many a fic as a consequence. Might not be wise, she felt.

Especially not given the nature of much of the Erestor fic she had come across.

“He was a great hero, Erestor,” she replied. “A mortal who was mistaken for a Noldo at first by the Gondolindrim. That says much.”

“Indeed.”

“And Ulmo spoke to him, and he married the King’s daughter, and...”

“Yes, yes, very well!” laughed Erestor. “I am not disputing his worth or his place in history.”

Erestor made a point of getting Glorfindel to talk to Penny in more detail about Tuor and what he had been like. He too found it entertaining that she seemed to hang off his every word.

“Are all those who know our stories this eager about certain characters within them?” he asked.

Penny had to think quickly. “Well, we do not have heroes like these anymore in our own time. Not in the same way,” she explained. She was grateful to be interrupted at that point by Elrond joining them accompanied by several others who did not know her story.

That had been a close call! ‘Yes, Glorfindel, I know of several people who would chew off their own leg to meet you, let alone kiss you or have their wicked way with you. There are many who are so obsessed with you that they even write...’

Actually, Penny decided, she had best not continue down that line of thought. Now she had actually met Elrond, Erestor and the twins, let alone Legolas, it did seem highly bizarre to think of them all jumping into bed with each other. Utterly preposterous and farcical, in fact, if not a little creepy. It now felt much like ‘real person fic.’ Only worse.

It suddenly occurred to her that they would all be together, along with Aragorn and Celeborn, in Minas Tirith. She blinked. Ai, slashfic writers would have had a field day in her position! She sniggered to herself. Elrond raised an eyebrow at her.

“Did I say something amusing, Pen-ii?”

“Forgive me, Lord Elrond, I was busy with my own thoughts.”

It was going to be difficult to be so free with her thoughts once she was in Gandalf’s company again, she realised. Or even with...

Oh, no!

A horrible thought crossed her mind.

Did Galadriel’s mind-reading skills transcend language? Or would it be the case that only if Penny thought in Sindarin would Galadriel be able understand it? Somehow, Penny thought not. In which case she was going to have to be really on her guard in Lothlorien.

‘Especially if Haldir and his brothers are around along with Glorfindel, Erestor, Celeborn and the rest. Gah! It’ll be like a slashfic cast list!’

That was a problem she was going to have to put away and deal with as and when confronted with it. She was not looking forward to it, though. Not at all.

After about a fortnight of travel they came to Hollin at long last. Penny was aware the mood had changed slightly, and the songs sung (as they ever were as they travelled) took on a slightly melancholy tone, even despite the war being won and the purpose of their journey.

“We cannot forget,” Eleniel explained quietly as she and Penny walked along together. “There are one or two among us who used to live in these parts. For them the memories are very fresh still. Sauron is fallen, but his works will never be forgotten.”

Penny could well believe it.

Still, it gave her a great thrill to see the ridge with its bank of tall hollies forming a sort of hedge and to know where she was. The path, though broken, had been cleared a little from how she remembered it described in the books. Already this way was being used once more, if only by the messengers sent to and from Lothlorien and Imladris. It meant things were a little easier going underfoot for such a large company with all their horses than it might have been otherwise.

The mountains had swung across their path, and the three great peaks with Caradhras at their centre loomed large now and crept ever nearer as they picked their way down the broken channels.

As Penny finished her morning reading and closed her book she glanced up to see a rabbit skitter across the path a little ahead of her. In a bush nearby birds were singing. She smiled.

“What pleases you, Pen-ii?”

“The animals.” She switched to English to keep her words private. “They were not here before. When they travelled, Aragorn said it was strange: no animals.” She kept the language simple and Erestor understood her well enough.

“Indeed, it was a sign of what was coming, of how far the darkness had spread. It was not the first time this region had seen such darkness either.”

Penny hesitated before asking, “Do you remember it?”

“I do. I prefer not to, though.”

“I understand.”

“I was not of those who lived here, but I had many friends here. Many died. Many more sailed West. I miss them greatly.”

Penny glanced at Erestor and, though she could not be sure, thought his eyes seemed to glint as though suddenly wet.

That night there were tales and songs of Eriador and its fall, of brave ellyn Penny had never heard of and their tales of heroism. Lindir sung a ballad he had composed about the life of Celebrimbor. Penny sat, transfixed, understanding if not all then more than enough to follow it all reasonably well and learn much she did not know before.

“It must be hard to carry so many memories, to see so much,” she said quietly to no one in particular.

The few sitting with her remained silent, their faces serious for a moment as if lost in thought.

“Yes, but it is the way of things,” Mireth replied at last. She smiled, a little sadly. “Your lives are all too brief, and ours seem too long at times. Especially for those that have suffered much.”

“You have Valinor. You have a place of rest. That must be some comfort.”

“It is,” Mireth agreed. “I shall look forward to sailing, to seeing old friends once more.” She paused. “But I shall miss this place I have known all my life also.”

A world without elves.

Suddenly the full realisation of that loss, of what the world would miss without them being there, hit Penny. And it would not be long, either. What, a year or so? Admittedly some would stay, but not many and even they would eventually leave or fade.

Penny looked around her, at those she had got to know so well over the past few months, who had helped her, shown her such kindness, who had become her friends, and felt desperately sad all of a sudden.

An ellon had stood once Lindir had finished. Penny recognised him as one of those she had seen sing or recite on occasion in the Hall of Fire, but she did not know his name.

“Enough of this,” he was saying. “We are forgetting the reason why we are here!”

He glanced over to where Arwen was sitting with a few of her close friends and grinned. She smiled in return and inclined her head.

“We need happier memories. Sauron razed this place, but now he himself is fallen at long last. That is cause for celebration, is it not?”

So saying, he began a love ballad and the mood was lifted at once.

Elves had a knack for lifting the mood, Penny decided with a grin.

Indeed, the next day it was as if the entire company were determined to bring back some of the past joys to the place. Songs were of an entirely different feel to the previous day’s, and there was much laughter and chatter. It did seem to brighten the place too, Penny thought, though she could just as easily have been reading too much into things.

They camped just below Caradhras that night. Penny wondered how far the entrance to Moria was from where they were but had no opportunity to ask someone. Elrond and Erestor seemed otherwise occupied, and Arwen was deep in conversation with friends. She felt a little wary to ask someone else, though it probably would not have mattered. Penny also noticed that there seemed to be fewer ellyn with them at supper and throughout the evening. Even as she was pondering on this she noticed Glorfindel was not around at all and she had hardly seen Lindir.

“Is something going on?” she asked Mireth.

“Well, this close to the mountains we need to be careful. Things have changed much, but not enough that we can assume no harm will touch us. Their master is fallen, but the minions still remain.”

‘Minions’ was a new word to Penny, but she could guess its meaning near enough. She knew that orcs and worse would still be abroad. This was the first time in their travelling that she had been so aware of it, though.

That night she made sure the pocket of the saddlebag where she kept the knife Glorfindel had insisted she be given was facing her and within reach. It was a completely pointless exercise. If something happened whereby she needed it, she knew she would be too terrified to even think of making a grab for it, let alone actually using the thing. Nevertheless, it made her feel a little safer.

‘Though frankly, with the likes of Glorfindel on guard duty tonight, that should be more than enough to make me feel safe,’ Penny reprimanded herself.

It was an earlier start than usual in the morning. They wanted to press ahead and get the pass crossed in two days if they could manage it. It would mean a late night and another early morning tomorrow also.

‘Joy,’ Penny thought, struggling to stay awake as she munched on some fruit.

She was also not looking forward to camping high on the pass overnight. It may be early summer but it would be cold, windy and very rocky up there. Probably permanent snow and cloud too.

“Even better,” she grumbled.

Dawn was still breaking as the awnings were packed away and everyone started off. The way was steep, narrow and a little difficult. Within an hour or so the company was strung out two abreast, or even single file at certain points. No one could ride. The horses were led or followed obediently as best they could over the rocks and scree.

The path wound and zigzagged its way upwards. Penny had never been mountain walking and had expected it to consist of one long walk up one long slope. She discovered this was far from being the case; rather, it was like a series of steep-sided hills. Every time you reached the top of one, you found another one waiting for you. There were times where there were occasional plateaus or connecting bridges of land, but otherwise it was uphill walking all the way.

If she had thought her feet and legs hurt before, then she had been kidding herself, she decided. By the afternoon she was finding it very hard going and had to stop every now and then to either catch her breath or rest her aching thigh and calf muscles. Penny took the opportunity to admire the spectacular views back out across Hollin and away towards the country they had travelled through.

Little waterfalls tumbled down near them, sometimes the path crossing over them on a sort of rock bridge. As they climbed higher still, the vista opened out more and Hollin and the lowlands were no longer visible. All that could be seen was peaks of ice-capped rock, piles of scree and poor attempts by scrubby plants to grow. Even the plants disappeared after a while and it was then only bare rock on all sides.

At least it meant the company could travel in groups or several abreast once more since the path was wider and flatter here, though the surface of the path was little more than loose scree. There were few markers for the path save boulders here and there that had clearly been shaped and placed along the way. Penny knew for certain she would have no hope of finding it again if she lost sight of anyone, and only a few yards from where she walked at some points there was a sheer drop of a few hundred feet at least, so if the clouds came down it could be very dangerous indeed.

There was water here, but in great, flattened channels now that seemed to consist of more boulder than water. Penny stopped to take a drink and found it was ice, ice cold. There was a chill wind blowing down the slopes from the glacier visible to her right and Penny, grateful once more for her cloak, huddled it around herself. Lanterns were lit as dusk fell and everyone packed a little closer together so as not to lose sight of each other. For a little while Penny was able to see the stars begin to show themselves as the night took hold, but all too soon the clouds began to roll in. Slowly they were surrounded by mist. In the end, with the damp cloud becoming thicker by the minute till they were walking in fog, it was decided to pitch camp and call it a night.

Supper was a perfunctory affair consisting of fruits and such things as could be eaten cold. The cold meats were finished, there was only a little cheese, and there was no fresh bread, only a sort of flattened type that kept well on journeys, but even so was a bit chewy and old by now.

There was no singing or great fire tonight, Penny noted. Instead everyone was in small groups, with individual fires lit under their awnings or near their tents. Everyone had weapons on them or near to hand. Many would not sleep tonight but be on guard. Indeed, even as Penny helped pack away some of the food, she could just make out in the mist ellyn readying themselves with bow and long knife and heading off into the dark.

It all made her incredibly nervous.

She was to discover too that sleeping on a bedroll on the bare earth is infinitely more comfortable than sleeping on a bedroll on a pile of rocks. And sharp rocks at that. As she lay under her blanket, points and edges digging into her back from all angles while she stared at the tent's roof, Penny (not for the first time on this journey) wondered what the hell she was doing.

Mireth, Eleniel and others in her tent had noticed she was awake. A song started up, and Penny was pleased since it would at least give her something else to focus on. As she did so she found herself drawn into it, somehow, so it filled her entire head. Before she knew it she was asleep and dreaming of walking green-filled forests with ellith on either side of her.

For a while all was quiet and calm.

Penny awoke with a start in the early hours. At first she was not sure what had woken her, but then she could hear the nervous whispers amongst the ellith in her tent. She sat up groggily, not entirely sure why her heart was beating so fast and she felt so nervous.

“What is it? What is happening?”

There was no immediate response, but even as Penny opened her mouth to ask once more, someone – she was not sure who it was in the dark – went over to the entrance flap and looked out. When they turned round she could see it was Arwen.

“They are readying to go after them.”

Penny blinked. Go after who? A cold fear gripped her and she was not sure she wanted to know.

Several ellith were on their feet then, slipping dresses over their slips and grabbing bows.

“If they needed more assistance, they would have asked for it,” Arwen was saying. “Let us wait and see what happens. It may be it was only a small group and easily dealt with.”

A small group? A small group of what? And why the hell was Arwen whispering?

Penny, for the first time in a very long time, was panicking.

“Erm... would someone mind terribly telling me what is...?”

“Yrch,” Mireth said. “We think.”

“Something has happened, of that we are certain. We heard movement and readying to arms.” Eleniel was pointing vaguely in the direction of the flap where Arwen was once more peering out into the gloom and then, as if she had suddenly spotted someone outside, disappeared.

Penny’s heart was in her throat. For a moment she thought she was actually going to be sick.

“Orcs? Here? But... but...”

The tremor was clear Penny's voice. Mireth came over to her and put her arm around her.

“Do not fear. They will be no match for us. There are many of us, all trained in warcraft. They will not last long. It is unlikely they will even reach us here in the camp. We have not heard the sounds of fighting, so whatever has happened is at some distance.”

The others murmured agreement, though whether this was simply to try and calm the jittery human, Penny was not sure. Even she, now she listened hard, could vaguely make out sounds. Elves tread softer than air so she could not hear footfalls, but there were occasional murmurs or the sounds of sword belts being buckled or quivers being thrown over shoulders. Within minutes, though, the sounds died away.

As they did so, Arwen came back into the tent.

“They have gone.”

“What, all of them!” Penny asked in some horror, who suddenly had visions of just the few of them left alone in their one tent in the middle of an entirely deserted camp.

“No, silly,” Mireth laughed quietly. “Just a small company will have been sent to deal with them. That should be more than enough.”

“Father says there is a strengthened guard set up around the camp. There is no need to worry for the time being. Let us try and rest,” Arwen was saying. “We have a long day’s travel ahead of us, and the sooner we can get out of the mountains, the better. If they need us to ready ourselves they will tell us so.”

“Indeed,” Eleniel murmured.

Penny was amazed they were so calm about it all. Though she could hear the hint of anxiety and concern straining their voices, they were not at the level of near hysteria she felt herself to be in. She did not want to make a fool of herself, but she felt close to tears with fright. She could feel her chest tight and her throat dry.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit! This was the last thing she needed. She had hoped so much this would not happen and now... Gah, even now there were orcs, REAL orcs, somewhere nearby and about to be killed by people she knew, people who were putting their lives on the line.

'What if they got through? What if just one...? '

It was impossible, she knew. Elvish hearing and eyesight were too keen for any of the guards not to spot even one sneaking through to the camp.

'But what if there were too many? What if all of Moria emptied itself and they all come pouring out and... '

A searing cold fear, the like of which she never knew existed, gripped her. Hysteria pushed her sure knowledge of the fact that Arwen and her entourage made it perfectly safely to Minas Tirith for her wedding out of her head completely. All she could think about was that some great snarling, murderous, slavering thing would come roaring into the tent at any moment.

Penny was vaguely aware that she was whimpering slightly, her breath quickening. Mireth, her arm still round her, was rubbing her upper arm and making soothing ‘shhh, it will be alright’ noises.

Then, somewhere in the distance she heard something like a scream. It was a scream, a snarling growl and a roar all rolled into one. It almost seemed to form a word as it bounced and echoed off the bare rock of the low, small valley they were in. Then there was another, then another, and then several at once: cries of pain and fury, of pure, blind hatred.

Penny clapped her hands to ears, the panic overwhelming her and all thoughts of grabbing a knife completely forgotten as she broke down completely.



Author’s Notes
:
LACE, as I am sure most of you know, is the treatise ‘Laws and Customs of the Eldar’ which is in HoME (Vol.10: 'Morgoth's Ring'). It describes elvish society, family relations and their views on marriage, family and children.

Penny could have asked about Moria easily enough without it being considered strange. The hobbits in the Shire had heard of Moria but not Mordor. But we can't expect her to remember everything or make the correct assumptions every time and she is still quite nervous about her situation.

So as not spoil to the plot, I will explain my reasoning behind the orc attack more fully at the end of the next chapter. Suffice it to say for now that, as ever, the decision to include it was not taken lightly and only after consultation with others.





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