gondolin_noble | (no subject)

"The Rangers who regularly use this site will have cause to thank you - there is no need to gather for months." Glorfindel replies cheerfully as he guards a tiny flickering flame from stray breezes with his hands.

Sunshine laughs, adding the last armful to the stack. "Well, that's good to know."

Aside from liking to be useful, the mental image of rangers unknowingly using wood stacked - only slightly haphazardly - by someone from another world amuses her. Just a bit.

"How're we going to cook those?" she asks, nodding towards the gathered mushrooms.

"In a manner that would cause camp cooks that I know to cry." He refrains from mentioning what the hobbits would do, but he had no desire to haul pots and pans around with him for this last stretch of the journey - his more complete pack is in Imladris. "Fetch some of the smaller, flat rocks from the wall?" He adds, as he encourages the fire to continue burning.

"What they don't know hopefully won't hurt them," Rae grins, moving back towards the wall to search for some likely-looking stones.

"I don't know about fixing mushrooms that grow in this world," she offers, wryly, "but I found some wild garlic while I was fetching entirely too much wood, if it might be useful."

It's not like she packed seasonings or anything - though that's not to say she wasn't tempted.

He promptly stacks the stones near the fire, then encourages the fire over it to warm them.

"If you wish, though you will be tasting it for some time."

Sunshine chuckles, coming to settle by the fire. "Eek, and I left my toothbrush in my room at the bar. Maybe it's better to do without the garlic."

Though she does love that recipe for sauteed mushrooms with garlic, one should probably try to avoid garlic-breath on long trips.

Glorfindel snorts, both because her realization is funny, and because he'll believe humans using more advanced grooming skills when he sees it.

He's been through Rohan and Bree a few too many times, recently.

But soon he has the mushrooms and what root vegetables he could find sizzling away on the hot stones, and while they are a bit plain, at least they're fresh?

Part of Sunshine's mind is imagining the next few weeks without a toothbrush. A hairbrush... well, she's gone without before. She'll keep her hair braided - it'll hopefully stay out of her way well enough. But no toothbrush? Toothpaste? Floss? No soap?

No hot water?

Oh gods.

"Those smell good," she remarks casually, seeking to distract herself from visions of unholy grime.

"The hobbits would say I am underseasoning them, but I only brought the bare essentials on this leg of the journey, being so close to Imladris." Glorfindel shrugs, sprinkling some salt on the vegetables in a sort of hopeful benediction that at least they won't be gruesome.

...

Roast rabbit would be better, but perhaps not the first night.

"While I'll have to wait until I taste these to say whether or not I agree," Rae replies. "I've met all of one hobbit, but he did seem to be quite knowledgeable about food."

A hobbit after her own heart, clearly.

"As far as I can tell, it is a trait of their kind." He shrugs - all five hobbits of his acquaintance had Definite Ideas About Food, and none of them seemed to find that fact abnormal.

...

He may or may not have encouraged all of them to share these Ideas with the cooks of Imladris.

"There, that ought to be... edible." He shrugs, too used to worse camp rations to get too worked up about it. The campfire is casting a warm glow on their little camp, but he stands and steps out of the lit ring, to better check on the stars.

"Thank you," she says, accepting the food. Not just for what the food is, but for what it's not.

Rae is very grateful it's not roast rabbit. The mushrooms and vegetables aren't that bad, actually. Just a touch of the garlic wouldn't have hurt, but that's her personal tastes.

The flickering of the firelight messes with her Dark Sight, but she has managed with worse. She can still see the stars beyond the glimmering tree-shadows.

"The stars here really are different from those back home," Rae murmurs, failing to find constellations she can recognize.

"That I can believe." He laughs, if only because one of those stars is not a star at all, his eyes finding it easily from long years of practice.

Some elves give the stars status reports.

Rae gazes up at them as she eats, watching how their light casts glimmering half-there shadows from the leaves of the trees. She is sitting on a strange world, under a strange sky, in strange company, for what she's pretty sure counts as a strange purpose, but despite the residual soreness of a day spent traveling (which she's sure will only be worse upon waking), Rae is oddly content. She has hardly thought about vampires all day.

"Do your people have constellations?" she asks, after a while.

"Not as Men have, no." He shakes his head, the gems woven into his braids flashing in the firelight. "Elves have little need for such tricks to remember the position of the stars." On silent feet he returns to their supplies, and fetches her a blanket. "Rest, after you have eaten - we will ride hard on the morrow."

"We use them to remember legends and fairy-tales, too," she remarks with a slight, sleepy smile. "Kings and queens, great warriors and fearsome creatures."

Sunshine is aware she isn't doing a very good job of disguising how her eyelids are getting heavier, so she accepts the blanket with a wry smile, and wraps up in it, preparing to sleep.

What would her mother say if she found out Rae is knowingly going to be sleeping outside, without the benefit of locked doors, locked windows, and an array of sturdy wards? Something loud and angrily worried, most likely, and the discussion would probably end badly for all involved. But Sadie Seddon is worlds away, and this night is quiet. Sunshine is willing to risk it.

Glorfindel disappears into the trees, finding a comfortable perch with a view of the road and the campsite, where he can still see the stars.

Surely Sadie Seddon would not be able to complain, knowing that one of the land's most fearsome warriors kept watch?

...

Either way. There's nothing stirring tonight.

The morning is greeted with an elf lord breaking up the fire and scattering the ashes to hide that they were ever there.

There had been nightmares - there always are - but Sunshine doesn't remember them waking her up in the middle of the night as they usually do. It's kind of a nice feeling, having slept relatively well.

Her first thought upon waking is that she's overslept and is late for work. There is no mistaking the feeling of waking up with the warm touch of the sun on her face - but no, she's not in her bed at home. Opening her eyes, her second thought is confusion at waking up outside in a strange place. The memory of the previous day comes back all at once as she moves to sit up... and makes a strangled noise in her throat as every stiff muscle in her back screams in protest.

Ow.

She sees it through, though, wincing as she resolutely sits up. "...G'morning." Agghh.

Glorfindel does not laugh at her, but there's really no hiding the mirth in his eyes.

It's entirely possible this is the point in training where many recruits to the Imladris guard learn to curse the balrog slayer.

But still, he's offering another silver cup of that miraculous clear liquor, so he can't be all evil. Surely.

Cursing takes more coherence than a newly-awakened and suddenly sore and stiff Sunshine can muster up. She accepts the cup without articulated complaint, and drinks.

The thought may come later that she shouldn't so easily do that, what with the hangover she got the first time she drank one of his drinks (Rae will steadfastly ignore anyone reminding her that he had warned her of Dorwinion's potency). But this is the same liquor as yesterday, and it helps. Oh yes.

Enough so that once she's handed the cup back, she feels ready to attempt standing up.

Don't laugh, evil elf. Ow.

Glorfindel has been busy this morning already - Asfaloth is saddled and ready, all the wood she gathered last night has disappeared for safe keeping, and the elf himself looks bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

If Sunshine was looking for a nice leisurely morning, this isn't the place to find it.

That resolution not to complain may be wavering; but really, she asks herself as she stretches to work out some of the stiffness, what would she be complaining about? Lack of hot running water in the middle of the countryside? That the ground's not soft enough? Would she start a petition to the king bemoaning the lapse in public transportation across the fallen kingdom of Arthedain?

No.

She'll suck it up, dust off her clothes, roll up her blanket, and get on with it. There is, as he'd said, a long way still to go.

There is, and throughout the day she sees, unfortunately, only a very small part of that long way.

Though... it probably doesn't feel like it.

Glorfindel does his best to distract her, continuing his retelling of the history of these lands - and thanks to the many and varied adventures and failings of those that once ruled here, it's a very long story.

It reminds her of telling stories to her younger brothers to pass the time on long car rides to the beach, back when Charlie could be convinced to leave the coffeehouse for a day.

Only these are stories more along the lines of her own interests than those stories - robots and heroic adventurers in space and all - had been. She asks questions occasionally (more often when riding than when she's puffing to keep up while walking), mostly about how things work, cultural confusion, and the meaning behind some terms she doesn't recognize. But more often she simply listens, watching the scenery around them gradually change, trees thinning and hills becoming fewer and further between (and those hill that still remain are thankfully less steep, much to her legs' relief).

The trees have melted away, leaving a rolling grassland dotted with rocky crags thrusting up through the earth like the fingers of a monstrous mountain troll.

(He mentioned those, right? They're definitely interesting to fight, in his world view.)

Though the light is beginning to fail, he doesn't seem particularly inclined to stop and make camp... not that there appears to be any good campsites from here to the foot of the mountains rising away to the east.