My apologies for the long delay with this chapter. If it's any consolation this chapter ended up being a lot longer than I thought it would. My thanks, as ever, to all those reading and reviewing – it is much appreciated. :)

Chapter 18 – The Morning After

To say Penny felt rough the next morning would be an understatement. It took a few moments for her to realise she was even conscious at first, but once she did she immediately regretted it.

Though not half as much as when she then tried to sit up.

The tent spun round about her dully while her temples pulsed horribly. She clutched her forehead and bent forward with a groan. Her tongue felt like it was twelve sizes too big for her mouth and she had a raging thirst. Feebly she reached out for her water sac, not even realising that Mireth actually handed it to her.

Mireth and Eleniel, who had been waiting patiently for her to awake, chatting and sewing in the open doorway, exchanged a knowing smirk. Penny, oblivious, gulped greedily at the water.

"Good morning." Eleniel grinned at her as Penny finally put down the water sac with a gasp.

"Mhpmmf."

"How are you feeling?" Mireth chirruped brightly, knowing full well what the answer would be. It was obvious just from looking at Penny that she had a hangover that could have floored a bear – the slightly hooded eyelids, a narrowing of the eyes as if even thinking was hugely painful, the slack jaw, the vacant expression and the generally dishevelled appearance.

"Whrgghhh," Penny replied, thus adding the inability to form a coherent sentence to the above list.

Mireth and Eleniel exchanged a second smirk.

Penny glared at them.

"Oh, I do beg your pardon. Were you expecting sympathy?" Eleniel laughed. "No one asked you to drink that much beer, Pen-ii."

"Ah, now be fair. Everyone agrees she clearly did not realise how strong it was. It was not Pen-ii's fault."

"True." Eleniel reached out for Penny's hand. "Time to get up, Pen-ii. A little cold water on your face and a bit of fresh air will do you some good and help you feel better."

"And some breakfast," Mireth added, also proffering a hand towards Penny.

"No. No breakfast," Penny mumbled, taking a hand in each of her own and hauling herself up to her feet. She paused for a moment as she got to an upright position as the tent reeled round her head once more. She took a side step as she steadied herself. "Woah." She giggled. "Still drunk."

Mireth and Eleniel shook their heads at her, laughing.

It was only as the cold water hit her face that what Mireth had said filtered through to Penny. She slowly looked up at her friend.

"Wait just one moment… What do you mean 'everyone agrees'?"

"Exactly that. Over breakfast everyone was saying that-"

Penny cut her off with a hand gesture. She blinked at Mireth like an owl, her brow furrowed as she tried to process the information.

"I have missed breakfast?"

"Very nearly, yes," Eleniel replied.

"And everyone was talking about me over breakfast?"

"Well, perhaps not everyone, but all of us that were there last night when we walked back together or saw you before we set off."

Penny was dimly aware she was still kneeling in front of the bowl with water dripping off the end of her nose. She reached for a cloth and began drying her face, standing up as she did so.

"We walked back?" Penny asked hesitantly. She had no memory of that at all. A cold horror gripped her. "And what do you mean 'saw me before we set off'?" She was not sure she wanted to know. She had a history of doing very stupid things while drunk. Brian, for one.

"You sang." Eleniel beamed at her.

"Oh, no," Penny groaned, letting her head fall into her hands.

"And danced," Mireth added.

A muffled 'argh' came from Penny at that piece of news. Then she thought about it. She remembered dancing, or at least she thought she did, in the Meduseld. Though who on earth she had danced with, she had no idea. She looked up at Mireth.

"Ah, now wait, that is not so very bad. There were lots of people dancing in the great hall. You and Celebdor for a st-"

"No, no. You sang and danced all the way down the hill and to the camp," Mireth explained.

Penny opened her eyes wide at this appalling piece of news. She muttered something about needing to sit down and staggered back to her bedroll as Mireth and Eleniel burst out laughing.

"And people SAW this?"

"Oh, yes," Eleniel chortled. "Mireth and I joined in the dancing with you, if that makes you feel a little better about it all. The ellyn refused, though."

"Ellyn?"

"Oh, only Celebdor and Lindir-"

"Lindir? That is not what I needed to hear!"

"And Glorfindel also," Eleniel added.

"Glorfindel was there?" Penny blinked. "Oh, well, that settles it. I am not coming out of my tent for the rest of the day."

"Do not be so silly," Mireth giggled. "You were not the only one to get a little heady last night."

"Indeed, I think most of Rohan got drunk judging from the raucous singing and dancing of most of the mortals there last night."

"That is not the point, Eleniel."

"Well, it is not usual for women we know of to get quite that drunk, perhaps, but no one blames you, Pen-ii. You were not to know. The beer was very potent. It was hardly your fault. You are not the only one who woke up this morning feeling a little delicate."

"Mireth's right, Pen-ii. There were several ellyn this morning who were foregoing food for merely water and a little miruvor."

"And the infamous Lothlorien hangover cure."

"Ah, yes. I believe Rhimlath made a large batch of it for them all."

Penny missed the inference that Rhimlath had got nearly as drunk as she had been. She was still too alarmed at the idea of her singing and dancing through Edoras and making a spectacular arse of herself. If Lindir had been a witness then everyone would know and know in full, glorious detail too. If only she could remember… She clutched her head. Her temples were throbbing painfully.

"Owww."

At which point Eleniel and Mireth more or less dragged her out of the tent, insisting she needed food, air and something for her headache, despite Penny's protests.

As they made their way to the little space in the centre of the encampment, Eleniel and Mireth continued to reassure Penny. If she felt she really could not face people, then they could bring her some breakfast to her tent. However, Penny had to admit Eleniel had a point when she said that Penny would have to face them all sometime and that it was probably better to get it over with sooner rather than later. Mireth insisted others had been worse for wear that morning, that in fact one ellon had been found passed out under a table in the Meduseld in amongst a pile of sleeping dogs and brought back in a wheelbarrow like a sack of potatoes.

That last piece of information made Penny feel a whole lot better and she walked towards the prospect of a nice, soothing cup of tea with more confidence than she would have otherwise thought possible.

Breakfast was over, but there were still a few stragglers chatting or helping clear away the last of the victuals. Among the stragglers were a small group that included Lindir and Celebdor, neither of whom were eating or drinking anything. Penny had no time to make a last minute dash for it since Lindir spotted her straight away.

"At last! Pen-ii! Look, everyone, it is Songstress Pen-ii come to join us at last. Pen-ii, you do realise it is very nearly lunchtime?"

She glared at him. She suspected (rightly) he and Celebdor had chosen to wait for her long after finishing their morning meal simply so they could bait her.

"Shut up. I am not in the mood."

"Oh dear, not feeling terribly well, are we? Well, if you will drink so much beer, Pen-ii…"

"Well, I am sure you would know all about getting drunk, Lindir."

"Now, now, I was not the one serenading Rohan last night."

Penny had no answer to that. She waved her tea caddy at him while she struggled to find a retort, but her head hurt too much to think of one and besides which, seeing the tea in her hand reminded her that she really needed a cup. She turned away with an exasperated oath and stomped up to the remnants of the small fire where Eleniel was already putting some water in a little pot to heat up for her.

"It was quite a performance, Pen-ii. I was most impressed."

Penny scowled into the fire.

"I agree, Celebdor. Most 'interesting', would you not say?"

Penny could hear the laughter in Lindir's voice.

"Highly entertaining."

Penny glanced round to see Glorfindel standing a little way behind her, arms folded and broad grin on his face.

"You as well, Lord Glorfindel? For shame!"

He raised an eyebrow.

"My dear Pen-ii, if you go about hanging off gilded pillars singing at the top of your lungs to a crowd of Rohirrim below you and a bewildered group of revellers standing at the top of the steps to the great hall behind you, we cannot, in all conscience, ignore the fact."

There was a brief pause as they took in the look of horror on her face. Then they burst out laughing.

Penny turned back to the fire, letting her forehead fall to her knees as she hugged her shins. This was a bloody nightmare. Her temples were throbbing, she felt utterly vile and out of it, and she could do without all of this.

She had no choice, though.

She sat in a sullen, mortified heap while they teased her mercilessly for a good ten minutes. Several other elves – those who had seen her at the Meduseld or else back at the camp – joined in with their little observations while those who had not yet heard about it all had all their questions answered in full. Penny was thus treated to a blow-by-blow account of her entire performance from the steps of the Meduseld to the camp, including Lindir taking great delight in explaining how Mireth and Eleniel had attempted to drag her to her tent but she had pulled just as hard in the opposite direction shouting loudly that she needed the latrine before she wet herself.

"Oh, yes, I heard that," said an ellon at the far edge of the group as he packed away some bread. "My wife wondered what on earth was going on. You were very loud, Pen-ii."

Penny decided now would be a good moment for the ground to open up and swallow her.

"What is all this?" Rhimlath had appeared.

"Oh, just relating the walk back to camp for our friend Pen-ii here. Seems she does not remember a lot of it," Celebdor replied brightly.

"Speaking of which," Lindir interrupted, "I am most intrigued by some of the songs you were singing. It is a pity Erestor was not with us, since I would love to get translations for them all."

Penny looked at him. She knew that he knew perfectly well that if they were songs she had kept quiet about up until now, they were probably not at all suitable for one reason or another. He was just baiting her. She tried ignoring him. It was taking all her willpower not to explode into swearing, or stomp off back to her tent. Her hangover was not helping her mood. She was vaguely cheered by Mireth pressing a cup of tea into her hand and she slurped at it gratefully.

"What ARE you drinking, Pen-ii?" Rhimlath suddenly grabbed the cup and sniffed.

"Hey! Give that back!"

"Ugh, not this dish water again! Really, Pen-ii, I have no idea what you see in the stuff, but this will not cure a hangover."

"Now, look here, Rhimlath… I am NOT in the mood this morning. Do NOT start with me."

Rhimlath gave her a disdainful look. "But really, Pen-ii, this 'teeh' as you call it, is utterly vile st-"

"I will have you know empires were built drinking this stuff!"

Rhimlath blinked at her as Penny snatched back her drink.

"Empires?"

"Shut up."

"No, you said 'empires'… What empires? Where?"

"I got my tenses muddled, I meant 'will be'. I was speculating. Leave me alone."

"That still doesn't answer my-"

"So, I want to know what 'gohl finn gar' means," Lindir hurriedly cut in. "That and 'teseks-sii'."

"Yes, Pen-ii, you must also teach us some of your dance steps." Glorfindel also tried to change the subject.

"Whur?" Penny blinked at him.

"I still want to know what she was-"

"I know 'shaht' is a tunic of some sort," Lindir continued, attempting to railroad Rhimlath into silence, "But Erestor was baffled by 'teseks-sii' when I asked him about it."

"That stuff is muck, I tell you," Rhimlath pointed at the tea pot in front of Penny.

"IT IS NOT!" Penny roared, on the verge of flinging her cup at him. This really was not helping her headache one iota. She paused suddenly. "Did you hurt yourself?"

Rhimlath hurriedly pulled back his hand, exchanging the briefest of glances with Lindir.

"No, no."

"But your knuckles are bruised-"

"I have a hangover cure that will work wonders," Rhimlath muttered, already getting to his feet. "Let me fetch it."

"I do not want it. Tea is all I need."

"I will fetch it anyway." He was already disappearing fast.

The decision had been made to spare Penny the further embarrassment of telling her about her Westron mistake the previous evening (and the consequences thereof). It was agreed that if the young man had not been quite so drunk, he would have immediately understood her intended rather than actual meaning. Added to which the young man (and his friends) were rather insistent that the story did not go too far since they were aware he had, in effect, insulted a guest and a friend of very high-ranking other guests. If the King had got to hear about it, the young man would have been torn off a strip, drunk or not.

Thus only a few knew. Elves may be gossips, but could keep their mouths shut if they needed to. One good thing had come from the incident, though: Rhimlath and Erestor had come to an agreement that her Westron lessons had to continue. No one wanted a repeat performance of the previous night's 'misunderstanding' in Gondor if only because etiquette was far more important there and the people far less forgiving. Not only that, but if Penny made a mistake like that again while in conversation with a less honourable sort too over-eager with drink and no one around to help her… Well, it really did not bear thinking about. Therefore Rhimlath had agreed to bow out and let Erestor, as her original teacher, carry on unimpeded.

Of course, several people had seen the fracas, and the fact that it had been Rhimlath who had landed the punch had set many tongues wagging. Over the rest of the day information would slowly be eked out so that by the evening nearly everyone in the camp would know that the scuffle had been over a misunderstanding in Westron. Of course everyone would put that down to Rhimlath's Westron being a little rusty, and it was an assumption Rhimlath was happy to leave uncorrected for the most part – for the young man's sake as much as Penny's.

Once Rhimlath had gone, Penny turned her attention back to Lindir's goading.

"Teseks-sii? I have no idea what you are talking about Lindir, but I suspect whatever it is, I will not tell you. Now, could you please leave me be? My head is hurting so badly I can barely keep my eyes open; I am ridiculously thirsty; I feel ill, tired, and am embarrassed beyond belief. I would like to sit here, drink my tea and try and recover. Is that too much to ask?"

"This is Lindir we are talking about here, Pen-ii," Eleniel pointed out. "Of course it is too much to ask."

"I have to say your style of dancing was… well… I am not sure that, in truth, I can find a word that well enough describes it."

"She was drunk, Glorfindel, I feel sure it was not an accurate representation," Lindir said.

"There was dancing?" The ellon at the far end looked highly amused.

"Oh, yes," Mireth responded gleefully. "Here, let us show you."

Penny watched in astonishment as Mireth dragged Eleniel to her feet and then the pair of them bobbed their heads and bounced from one foot to the other. They then added a few random arm gestures and hip wiggles into the bargain. The big finish was a perfectly executed move worthy of John Travolta himself as they pointed to the sky and then diagonally across themselves to the ground and back to the sky again. They collapsed into hysterics into each others' arms and the rest of the elves joined in their laughter.

"You call THAT dancing?" the ellon could hardly breathe he was laughing so hard.

"I know. It looks terribly much like someone with some sort of physical affliction, does it not?" sniggered Glorfindel.

"I still say Pen-ii actually had an itch or else a stone in one of her shoes," Celebdor countered.

"Care to enlighten us as to which it was?" Lindir turned to Penny.

Penny, however, was gone. She had fled back to her tent, taking her tea with her.

A little while later Eleniel appeared with an evil-smelling brew in a small jug: a gift from Rhimlath. Penny sniffed at it and had to stop herself from gagging.

"I know. It smells vile. It will work wonders, however, trust me. The Galadhrim swear by it."

Penny peered at the concoction. There was a raw egg floating on the top of it. She glanced up at Eleniel.

"It is up to you, Pen-ii. How unwell do you feel?"

"Very unwell. No, extremely unwell."

It was true: her brain felt like it was trying to climb out of her skull. Eleniel gave her a look that said 'well, if you really feel that bad, then drink the drink.'

"I thought you were going to give me something for my headache."

Eleniel pointed at the jug. "I have."

"Oh."

Damn.

"Hold your nose and down in one."

Penny nodded. She took a deep breath, screwed up her courage and did exactly as Eleniel suggested. It took all her strength to not let it just come right back up again, and how she managed to keep it down, let alone gulp down the entire thing, she had no idea. Swallowing the egg had been particularly nasty.

Within fifteen minutes she was feeling very well indeed, though. It was unpleasant but it worked.

Mireth had disappeared and would not be seen for most of the day. She, along with many others, had been commandeered by Elrond to deal with any of the sick and injured who were waiting for them. Elrond's sons had learnt much from their father in the ways of healing. They had done what they could but knew that for a couple of cases they could do nothing, whereas their father may just be able to help. He was the greatest healer in Arda, after all.

Consequently, the presence of Elrond and so many skilled elvish healers in Rohan was a great blessing to many of the Rohirrim. Their healers had skill, but were not comparable even to those in Minas Tirith (whose skill was renowned). Those Rohirrim who had suffered injury in Gondor had received the best possible treatment that existed amongst humans. Those who had been injured at Helms Deep had not been so fortunate. Several had died who in different circumstances might have lived, and there were many whose wounds had festered or been incorrectly dealt with. Elrond would have to perform or insist on more than one amputation today, just as his sons had feared. There would even be one or two lives that not even Elrond could save.

Word had spread and thus many had arrived to seek healing and succour. The skill of the elves as healers had been seen in Elladan and Elrohir, and while many were wary of the elves or in awe, for others the prospect that someone might be able to help their sick or their dying meant their fear was quickly overcome by their desperation. Not only that, but did these elves not have the 'magical queen from Lothlorien' with them? She could do anything, so it was said, and was hugely powerful.

Overnight a small crowd had formed near the encampment, and by first light a small tent and awning were being used as an impromptu triage unit.

Several had nothing to do with the war. A few cases were desperately sad. A mother whose boy was crippled, one leg withered, refused to understand there was nothing the elves could do for the child. Similarly the blind, the mad, the dying were treated with kindness and tenderness, but it had otherwise been a wasted journey for them or their families.

For the most part, though, the elves were inspecting wounds made by blade or arrow, or occasionally burns where a house had collapsed on a woman or a child. Often there was something they could give them – a balm that might aid healing or reduce scarring, perhaps – either that or advise them on how best to deal with the wound, to congratulate whoever had first tended them. Once or twice they saw something more serious where more detailed and lengthy work was needed.

Galadriel in particular made a point of talking to all who were not too intimidated by her. Widows and widowers, mothers who had lost sons or brothers, young children now orphaned, all felt their hearts calmed a little by Galadriel if she spoke to them, or even many of the other Eldar. There was such reassuring wisdom of the Ages with the elves that many Rohirrim felt their troubles, their pain eased for a while. The black despair lifted, and for perhaps the first time since the War was won they could see a brighter future in spite of all that they had lost.

Thus the elves' brief sojourn in Rohan would serve a higher purpose than mere etiquette and diplomacy. As Mireth had suggested it would be the night before: it was a busy day.

Penny was at something of a loose end and, feeling much better, wondered what she could do to help. She was desperate to go and have a wander round Edoras but was not sure if that would be acceptable or wise for to do so alone. She and Eleniel filled the morning playing with the children milling about with their families near the little triage tent. Penny taught them stick-in-the-mud which seemed to go down well, and they played a sort of hide-and-seek too. Mostly it was running and chasing, though.

"She is good with children."

"Indeed. I wonder if she was always so. With her own people, I mean."

Erestor glanced at Lindir.

"I think you can probably guess as well as I the answer to that, Lindir."

"Perhaps. I remember Halbarad saying how very much she had changed from when he first met her."

"She has changed. She would be the first to admit it, I think."

Penny sped past them chasing after a particularly giggly three year old girl with a mass of blond curls. Erestor raised an eyebrow.

"Either she has the constitution of an ox or else she has had the Galadhrim Hangover Cure."

"Rhimlath insisted on making her some."

"Ah. That would explain it. Argh!" Erestor switched to Westron as a small person suddenly darted round behind him and grabbed him about the knees. "Mind out there!" He had one hand on Lindir's shoulder and Lindir had hold of his arm. Even an elf could be floored by a determined toddler on the rampage if taken unawares.

"I am terribly sorry, Erestor. Hey you, come out from there. No using ancient high-born ellyn as hiding places. It is not fair."

Penny switched to a phrase in Westron she had learnt from Eleniel that morning that seemed to mean something akin to 'I'm coming to get you'. The child ran off with a delighted squeal, Penny close behind. Erestor recovered himself and straightened his tunic. He sighed.

"Ancient high-born ellyn as a hiding place… How is it she manages to make a compliment almost sound like an insult at the same time?" He chuckled.

At lunch Penny mentioned to Erestor about wanting to see Edoras in daylight. Elladan overheard and said he would happily give her a guided tour.

"Are you not busy? With the healers?"

"No, no. I can spare an hour."

In that hour Penny forgave him completely for the comb-washing incident. Elladan was true to his word and did indeed give her a complete tour of the place. Back on top of the hill she was able to see the answer to something that had been bothering her. She could not for the life of her work out why they had pitched camp on the north side of Edoras. It meant the camp sat right in the path of a strong north wind that had been whistling into the valley for most of the previous night as well as quite close to the barrows of the kings (which did not bother the elves but gave her the heebie-jeebies, frankly). She even said as much to Elladan as they made their way slowly through the town.

"Surely we could have made camp on the south side. We would have been screened from the wind for a start."

"Well, the wind is shifting, Pen-ii. Do you not notice it?"

Penny had to admit she had no idea about such things. She was aware, however, that as they neared the courtyard in front of the Meduseld the stench was not lessening the way it had the previous night. The wind was indeed coming from the southern side. Elladan led her round to the back of the great hall and pointed.

"That is your reason, Pen-ii. I know, given you share many of our elvish sensibilities about such things, you would not want to pitch camp too close to it."

It was a midden heap. A huge midden heap. A midden heap that proved how long, in human terms, Edoras had been around. Next to it was a smaller one that housed rotting down horse manure that was covered with weighted down sacking.

"But the stench…"

"It may be breezy up here, but it is also warm summer. It is the heat. I can assure you that in the winter months you barely notice it."

She looked at him.

"Well, a human might barely notice it."

Penny was ever so grateful Rohan was not an option on the list of where she may end up living for the rest of her days. She suspected that Minas Tirith would not be quite so rough and ready.

Elrond was back for a late lunch when they returned to camp. Penny knew this because she was sent for. Elladan led her to Elrond's tent, checking that she could enter and then leaving her to it. Penny felt slightly nervous. She wondered if she was about to get a dressing down for last night?

"Ah, Lady Pen-ii. You have had a pleasant hour with my son, I trust?"

"Yes, Lord Elrond, I thank you."

Elrond was seated with a cup in one hand. Erestor was leaning against some packs near him, a second cup in his hand and a wine skin beside him. There was no one else in the tent.

"I just wanted to let you know that after some discussion we feel you need to get back to your Westron lessons. You need to be able to better interact with the humans you will encounter."

Elrond's face betrayed nothing, though he knew exactly what had happened last night.

"Oh. I see. Very well."

"You need not look so worried. Rhimlath and I have come to an agreement," Erestor reassured her.

Penny looked unconvinced. She would believe it when she saw it.

"I also wanted to say… How shall I put this? You are, of course, free to do as you wish, but it might be more prudent if you were to treat any beverage as being potentially very strong in future."

Elrond was trying to be as tactful as he could.

"No one blames you, Pen-ii. Indeed we elves enjoy life, as you know full well; but mortals, especially Gondorians, are sticklers for their perceived principles. Women in higher society simply do not drink to excess. I felt I should warn you."

Penny could feel herself flushing a little. She felt embarrassed and, though she hardly dared admit it, faintly riled that she should be treated like some overgrown child in this way.

"It was hardly deliberate on my part, Lord Elrond, I can assure you. I certainly paid the price this morning."

They laughed quietly.

"I have no doubt, Pen-ii. Nor were you the only one. I felt it only fair that you be aware of how such a thing would be frowned upon in Gondor, that is all."

"Not only that," Erestor added, "but you would not wish to let something slip that you might later regret." Again this hinted at last night's debacle though Penny little knew it. "Such as empires being built on tea, for example."

Penny shut her eyes momentarily.

"No harm done. Glorfindel tells me Rhimlath had no idea what you meant by it."

"I am still amazed that such a drink will prove so useful," Elrond commented dryly. He saw the look in Penny's eye and raised an eyebrow. "Ah, so it is your people that have built this empire, I take it?"

"And lost it too, which is no bad thing."

"How so?"

"Men oppressing men is not something to be condoned."

"Ah. Indeed."

"May I leave now?"

"Oh, yes. Of course. Yes. That was all we wished to say."

Elrond watched as a slightly tight-jawed Penny left the tent with a nod of the head.

"We annoyed her a little, I think," Erestor mused.

"It needed to be said," Elrond returned. "She should consider herself fortunate that we had not made it clear to her precisely how foolish she was last night."

"She may have made the same vocabulary mistake whether drunk or no, Elrond."

"Perhaps. That is not her fault-"

"No, it is not," Erestor cut in hotly.

Elrond held up a hand to stop him before the rant began. "Nor is it entirely Rhimlath's."

Erestor started to say something and then decided against it.

Meanwhile Penny was trying not to be annoyed. They had meant it kindly. They had not told her off. It still rankled a little, though. 'Like being called in to see the headmaster,' she thought to herself.

The rise in her irritability levels seemed to indicate the hangover was returning with a vengeance. She went to her tent to read for a little while but ended up falling asleep. When she awoke it was late afternoon and, even after she got up, she still felt a little groggy.

She wandered off to see where everyone was and what, if anything, was happening.

She ambled through the camp, back towards the little triage tent and the group of children she could see playing with Mireth, Celebdor and a few others. As she did so, she noticed, and not for the first time, that the adult Rohirrim barely acknowledged her.

'You would have thought, with me being the only human among this lot,' she fumed, little realising that it was precisely because she was the sole human among a bunch of elves that the Rohirrim thought her strange.

Not knowing any kind of Westron would have been odd enough (even though most Rohirrim knew little or none themselves), but for her to then be chattering away in Sindarin with the elves meant she was immediately branded an enigma.

Those that had fought or heard tales of what had gone on at Helm's Deep, let alone everywhere else, knew that long forgotten children's tales and folklore had suddenly come to life and proved themselves to be true. Huorns, hobbits, elves, ents - let alone people walking through the Paths of the Dead and surviving, or the King returned to Gondor and Sauron being defeated - were hard things to get your head around for most in Rohan, so you would have thought one more oddity would have made no difference here or there.

But Penny was that much stranger in some ways precisely because of her ordinariness. She was not of an unknown race lost in the mists of time. She was not a fulfilment of ancient prophesies or anything like it. She was just a foreigner.

That would have been bad enough, but she was also a foreigner who was hanging around with a very odd bunch of people indeed as far as your average Rohirrim was concerned. Not that they thought badly of the elves; far from it, but they were still a strange people known only by whisper and rumour. Elladan and Elrohir's presence among them of late had done much to allay such things, but it would never leave completely. Thus Penny was about as alien as it was possible for a human to be. Heck, even someone from Harad would be able to converse (just about) with a Rohirrim who spoke Westron.

No, Penny was just weird.

Added to which, since she was not staying and had all these elves to keep her company, with whom she could converse easily and among whom she clearly had good friends, the Rohirrim left her to it and made no effort with her. Why should they? It was not rudeness so much as wary practicality. She was no threat – that would be an insult indeed to Elrond and his people to think they would travel with someone dangerous amongst them – but she was odd enough to be given a wide berth.

News of that sort travelled fast, too.

"Have you seen there is a woman travelling with them?"

"I know! And speaks not a word of Westron, so I'm told."

"Strange, I call that. Very strange."

"Found wandering, she was, apparently. Lost and alone. But spoke no language of the north."

"Well, she's not from the south, either, I'll tell you that much for nothing."

"Have you seen the way she laughs and jokes with them?"

"Well, she has been staying with them for some time, so it's said."

"Yes, but where is her husband? Or her family? She's travelling alone, you know. She came all this way alone… with all those beautiful males at her beck and call. Disgusting, I call it!" (Some of the more trenchant 'fishwives' amongst the Rohirrim showed a distinctly base lack of understanding where elves were concerned; usually the ones who had been pushing their daughters under the noses of Elladan and Elrohir and been most put out when neither had shown the slightest interest).

"I don't like it. My mother always said to me…"

And so it went on. Little did she know it, but for most of the duration of her stay, Penny's ears were burning.

By the time she joined in with playing with the children, she actually found one or two mothers nearby snatching their children from her with a glare. One even spat something in Rohirric to her that was clearly very unfriendly and meant 'get the hell away from my daughter.' In any other circumstances Penny would have been upset or even angry. As it was she was still feeling a little wiped out, despite her afternoon nap, and responded to the woman with an astonished stare and nothing more.

She decided to sit out the rest of the games and any child that came to her she would shoo away with a laugh and a smile, telling them to go play.

She was actually feeling a bit weird, truth be told, and not because she was aware of two women muttering to each other, arms crossed over their bosoms and glancing in her direction every now and then.

Supper was up at the Meduseld once more. Penny was quiet all the way up the hill and felt as if she had very little energy.

"Are you unwell?"

"I think the hangover is back, Mireth, nothing more. An early night, that is all I need."

Mireth glanced at Rhimlath who was walking along behind them and he gave a slight shake of the head. The hangover cure should have counteracted it all completely, even in a mortal. Mireth decided to keep an eye on Penny.

The meal was simply that: a meal, not a feast. Soup, cold cuts, bread, cheese and fruit. Penny rejected all offers of beer, much to people's amusement. Mireth also noted, though, that she ate very little. Indeed Penny spent most of the meal staring at the bowl of soup in front of her and pushed it away practically untouched.

She seemed barely aware of the gentle ribbing of Rhimlath going on around her.

"Which table was it, Rhimlath? That one? This one?"

"You know, I felt sure I could smell wet dog all day. Have you washed since last night, Rhimlath?"

Rhimlath was doing his best to ignore them. "I shall rise above it."

"As opposed to sinking below us all to the floor," sniggered Lindir.

Rhimlath put down the apple he was paring with a knife. "Now see here, Lindir-"

"Don't berate me! I rescued you, remember. I could have left you there."

"You dragged me feet first down all those steps!"

"You are heavy!"

"I have lumps on the back of my head now!"

"Fine! Next time I'll leave you in a heap of stinking, slavering hounds, then!"

Penny suddenly cut in. "That was you?"

Rhimlath coloured slightly. "Ai, Elbereth. Even Pen-ii knows." He turned to her. "I believe you are in no position to mock those who had one beer too many last night."

"Perhaps. Even so… The mighty Rhimlath floored. Literally."

Celebdor choked on his soup, he laughed so hard. "Ah, but Pen-ii, Rhimlath was doing some 'flooring' of his own last night."

Rhimlath narrowed his eyes at Celebdor.

"Oh, yes. He got into a fight. Did you not, Rhimlath?"

Her grogginess temporarily forgotten, Penny stared at Rhimlath open-mouthed. "You? In a fight? A fist-fight, you mean? So that's how your hand got hurt!" She started laughing.

Rhimlath fumed. "Why does everyone find this so amusing? I have fought in many a battle in my time, you know."

"I am sure you have, Rhimlath, it's just… well… you are Rhimlath." Penny sniggered.

"Pen-ii makes a good point," chortled Celebdor.

"Rhimlath had his reasons, Pen-ii" Lindir said quietly, his tone suddenly serious. Penny glanced at him, wondering what he meant.

"Yes, what WAS it all about?" Eleniel's eyes shone bright with eagerness. "I have heard so many different versions about it all. Is it true you managed to mangle your Westron so badly you insulted his mother, he returned the favour, and you saw the red mist?"

"No, it is not!" Rhimlath looked outraged.

"So, what did happen, then?"

"I am honour bound not to repeat it."

Celebdor turned to his neighbour. "So it was his fault, then. Just as we suspected."

"Pen-ii?" Mireth was suddenly concerned to see Penny had turned round in her seat and was struggling to get to her feet. She was looking very pale. "Pen-ii, what is it?"

"N-nothing, I just… I just do not feel too well. I think I need to go back to camp. I just need a lie down… or some fresh air."

Glances were exchanged.

"It's the effects of last night, I am sure."

"I will go with you." Mireth was already on her feet.

"Well, I will accompany you," Celebdor added.

"No, I will," Rhimlath responded quickly. He was grateful to be able to avoid answering everyone's questions if nothing else. "I have finished eating. You stay and finish your meal, Celebdor. I will take them both." He wiped the blade of his small knife and pocketed it, then handed the remains of the apple to Lindir. "We shall take one of the horses. It will save Penny the walk if she is feeling that tired."

Mireth did not return to the Meduseld with Rhimlath but stayed with Penny as she washed and got ready for bed. By the time she crawled under her blanket, Penny was aware that she was feeling very out of it indeed, but just put it down to tiredness and delayed after effects of last night's beer.

All that changed at around midnight. It then became brutally clear it had nothing to do with the hangover at all.

Author's Notes:

I imagine this game is played the world over, but it may not be called 'stick-in-the-mud' by everyone. It's like 'tag' or 'it'. One person is chasing and if they catch or touch you then you are frozen and cannot move. Others can 'unfreeze' you by crawling between your legs, but they have to be careful not to be caught themselves in the process. The object is for the person who's 'it' to try and catch everyone so they are frozen.

There are Viking or Anglo-Saxon examples that show that midden heaps can get very big indeed, especially if next to a settlement that stays in situ for centuries. They can form near barrow-sized hills, and indeed are sometimes mistaken for barrows.