Hope - A Lord Of The Rings Chronicle

Arwen Undomiel

I have to squint to see her as she bows in return to Beririel, before turning to smile softly at me. I can't help but notice in her hand a tray with food, and her smile switches into a grin once she notices my longing gaze.
"Don't worry." She smiles "You may eat now."

She lays the tray on the beside table by the bed, and dismissed Beririel. With a bow, the elleth departed quickly. There I was, alone in the room with Aragorn's girlfriend. Wish me luck.

The silence was awkward, and all I could think about was how I wanted to eat my food, but I couldn't, not in front of her. I was a very messy eater at times, especially when hungry. Which I was. The last time had eaten had been yesterday afternoon, before I, well... you know.

"How are you feeling?" She asks, gently sitting down beside me.

I could barely speak, worried and cautious and curious as to why she was asking.

"It still hurts but I'm grateful to be alive." I finally say "Tell your father I said thank you for me, would you please?"
"I will." She smiles.

I wait for her to leave. She doesn't move an inch. So, with no other chance I lift the silver lid off the tray, and spread some butter on bread. I take a huge bite, secretly wishing to stuff my gob, and swallow a sip of tea.

She still stares at me, with those beautiful pale blue alluring eyes. Her cheeks are rosy, and I can faintly see the scratch she picked up from running away from the Wraiths. Tired of the silence, I ask.

"So, what brings you to my room then?" I ask her
"I came to see how you were." She answered.

"Why?" I raised my eyebrow "You trust me?"

"I want to." She replies, which is not the answer I expect. I'd thought she would suck up to me and lie about how she has every faith in me as a fellow female. "Something within me tells me you do not have the heart of a murderer."

I nod slowly.

"Where are you from?" She asks me

"What?" I blink and remember to cover my mouth and speak more politely. She signals to my bloodstained jeans;PUBLIC top with Matt Alvarado, Ben Lapps and John Vaughn; denim jacket and Converse All-stars. Inside my jacket lies my radio and broken glasses, as well as my fanny pack or 'pack of essentials' as Smithie liked to call it.

"Ummm..." I begin warily "I don't know if I'm allowed to...diverge into details. I'll have to ask Gandalf tomorrow."

She nodded.

"But-But!" I begin abruptly "I am from a place that's incredibly different to here. And...yeah."

I take another slice of bread and instead of buttering it, I dip it in some tomato soup.

"Who are they?" she asks me. "The men on your shirt."

I follow her eyeline to my favourite band.

"They're the greatest band ever." I grin

"Band?"

Oh. Right. She's an Olden day English speaker.

"A group of musicians." I explain before pointing them out "That's Ben, the other's Matt and the one in the middle is John. He's the singer. I'd play you one of their songs but I don't have my uh...phone."

"What's a phone?"

"It's a device that...allows you to communicate with someone in a different place."

Arwen nods unsurely.

"You will have to show me one day."

I nod. That is if I ever get back.

"What other things do you have?"

I shrug, feeling myself grow more at ease.

"The Internet, cars, electricity, cameras...

"Internet?"
Her eyebrows are furrowed in confusion.
"Yeah." I nod "That's a long story."

Arwen moves in closer, placing her head in her right hand.
"Tell me everything."

So, I sit there, for about an hour describing to Arwen the modern-day technologies and how my life is different to hers. She asks a lot more questions than I thought she would, surprising me at her willingness to become so acquainted with me so soon. About ten minutes after nine, Arwen stands up, and dusts off her dress.
"Well, I must be going Raina."
I blink. I never told her my name, did I?
"How...do you know my name?" I ask anxiously, concerned she read my mind or something, like her mother's mother, Galadriel.

She laughed at my reaction.

"How do you think?"

I shrug.

"Gandalf." She smiles at me, resting a hand on my shoulder. She grips it softly, smiling, her eyes sparkling slightly
"Sleep well."

'Doubt it.' I reply, but only inside my head.

Arwen leaves the room as gracefully as she entered, like a cloud floating through the stratosphere. I'm left alone. Boy. If only Smithie could see me now. Adorned with eleven clothing, filled to the brim with eleven food, and about to relax on a beautiful elven bed.

But, it's not all good. I've been accused of murder, almost everyone hates me, and I have no way of getting back home. Not gonna lie, this could've gone a whole lot better. I sigh, standing up and moving to the left pocket of my jacket. I fumble for the radio, but find something else instead. My spare glasses case! I break out into a grin, even though I had told him I wouldn't need my spare glasses kept always in whatever bag I was out with, he had ignored me and slipped them in my pocket anyway. My grin widened. Ahh Smithie, as far as boys go...he's alright.