gondolin_noble | (no subject)

"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.

Rae isn't thinking of fights or strange, otherworldly enemies. She's trying to ignore her useless desire for a hot shower (complaining will do no good, Sunshine, so deal with it) by focusing on the feeling of the last gleams of sunlight against her back, and the changing landscape around them. The mountains far away in front of them are like none she's ever seen - apart from in pictures on the globenet, and those doesn't count.

"What are those mountains in the distance? Are we going to have to cross them?"

"Not tonight, but eventually we will need to pass them - Gondor lies on the other side." Of course, he has absolutely no intention of camping anywhere near the mountain passes - alone, he knows he can defend himself, and without an armed guard, he cannot be sure he can defend her. The Gap of Rohan is an acceptable choice, and then there will be Ents.

It'd be a lie to say he wasn't secretly looking forward to that.

The ground suddenly opens up in front of them, the rolling grasslands having effectively hid the steep-walled valley until they had started down the steep track leading to the very well-lit buildings of the Last Homely House.

"I've never even seen mountains like that," she murmurs, wonderingly. "I mean, the Poconos and Blue Mountain, yeah, I've seen them while on trips, but they've got nothing on those."

Rae is considering the camera memory cards she brought with her on this trip, feeling she likely has plenty of room to be able to take a few souvenir photos. Though, not this evening. The light is already bad enough her camera wouldn't be very useful, though everything is clear as though it were midday, to her. The sudden downward track surprises her - it is rather startling to feel the horse you're riding suddenly tilt sharply forward, especially when you had been distracted by the scenery.

Though being more mindful of the downward slope, Sunshine continues to look around as they make their way down. She isn't certain, half-tempted to write it off as a trick of the light, but her Dark Sight is trying to tell her something about the way the shadows of the leaves and rocks fall. It's probably nothing, but the Sight isn't letting her put it out of her mind.

"I have this weird feeling that we're being..." But she is interrupted by the sight - as they come around a bend in the trail - of Imladris, warmly lit in the early night. "...wow."

"Imladris, known in what is more closely your tongue as Rivendell, the Last Homely House west of the mountains, long held by Lord Elrond Peredhil, now by Lord Celeborn." Glorfindel announces with reasonable pride - he's had a part in keeping this valley safe for over an age.

Rae has always felt that her imagination is pretty good - during the Wars, Charlie had always said that her occasional bad dreams were the price of a good imagination. Her more recent nightmares she figured were just another reiteration of that.

Elrond may have spoken to her of his home, briefly. But it was over a year ago, and she only partially recalls him referring to its size, its strength as a stronghold during long-past conflicts, and to the many visitors it pays host to. It's still far more than she could've imagined.

"...It's beautiful."

"It is a labor of love long cared-for." Glorfindel agrees, biting into an apple.

...

Somewhere he got an apple.

It's nice and crispy and sweet - clearly a good choice.

Rae smiles slightly, though her words are a little breathless. "It shows."

She may be reminding herself that she needs not to use up all the space on her camera's memory cards before they even reach where they're going, but Rae knows she wants at least one or two photographs of this place before they leave again.

She can see other people, unfamiliar elves, as they draw nearer, and feels somewhat embarrassed by the tinge of nervousness tightening in her chest. "Unless you habitually pick up strays, I suppose there'll have to be some explanation as to why I'm traveling with you."

"You're in luck." Glorfindel grins, because... yes.

Yes he does.

A lot.

The only time he hasn't was during times he had to actively protect his lord (or said lord's sons), or when the world had devolved into outright violence once again.

This is somehow not surprising, but is somewhat reassuring. Rae grins, chuckling, as they ride into Rivendell. The buildings are even larger up close than they had seemed at a distance. Perhaps it was how delicate their design seems, that she figured them smaller to make their existence feel less improbable. There is nothing like them in her world to compare them to.

The buildings fairly boil with elves as Asfaloth clatters into the courtyard - some bringing lights and wine, some coming to take Asfaloth away, some coming just for the spectacle of the thing - the Peredhil's champion and a strange human female.

Sunshine feels very out-of-place and uncertain amid so many strangers.

Also, very short.

Neither are things she's used to feeling so acutely, even in Milliways. She has experienced the awareness of being the only human in the room, before, but that was among her SOFs. Even if the dynamic had changed with the addition of unexpected information, they were friends. These elves seem in all respects to be good people, but they - while Elrond and her nameless, golden-haired guide are familiar and have been friendly and kind to her - are still strangers to her. And Rae is unfamiliar with the feeling of being a guest among strangers.

"Glorfindel!" His feet have barely hit the ground before he is nearly tackled by an elf only slightly smaller than himself. The two get caught up into a rapid-fire Sindarian conversation, which only continues as they head indoors.

Glorfindel casually reaches behind him, collars her, and pulls her along. No being shy, Sunshine!

Besides, Asfaloth has already disappeared down another winding pathway.