The Unexpected | LotR Fanfiction

Chapter 3

*somewhat edited*

Italicized phrases with a * next to it mean it's in Elvish

The walk home is quiet. I'm still trying to process everything that happened... I think I'm still in shock.

I had told Legolas to stay at the palace, he had offered to take me home but I declined. He told me he would pick me up in the morning.

I barely notice all the trees and bushes I pass on my way home. Everything seems like a blur and I barely understand what just happened. But I know enough to know that with just a few words, my life has been turned upside down. 

Tears come to my eyes and it's hard to keep them from falling. A lump forms in my throat as my throat starts hurting. I take deep breath and I start the mantra that I taught myself from early on.

I am strong. I am a warrior. And warriors don't cry. They stay strong.

I keep this up saying that I'm some of my favorite character from my favorite books, this always seems to work. When I think those thoughts it seems to put a barrier between me and the world. I deepen my breathing and run my fingers through my hair before wrapping my arms around my torso.

I finally see the familiar garden in front of my home and my mother looks up at me and smiles. But I watch as her smile dissipates and turns to a look of concern.

I walk into her warm, loving arms, "A, glî. Man ui i rhû?" [oh, honey. What ever is the matter?]  She wraps her arms around me as my barrier breaks and my tears flow. My body racks with my sobs.

She strokes my hair, "shhh shhh." She gives me a moment and pulls me away from her so she can look into my eyes.

"Trenar," [tell] I draw in a shuddering breath and tell her. I tell her everything. I tell her of my friendship with Legolas and I tell her of what happened near the Throne. But I don't tell her about the secret room, I only tell her we were visiting the library.

She stays silent in thought and I began to think that she was angry with me.

"Len grug nin?" [are you angry with me?] I ask, my voice laced with worry and nervousness. I've always thought the worse.

To my surprise, she chuckles, "ú, neth, ni ú grug. Ni..." [no, girl, I am not angry. I am...] she trails off. 

"Rictha?" [upset?] I furrow my brow. This confusion takes my mind off the current problem. She must be upset! I am being sent to Lothoríen! Without my consent! 

She just shakes her head, making her blonde hair bounce slightly, "ú, ú. Nin gar ú avo tendile an len," [no, no. I have no negative feelings towards you] she strides past me and to the door of our home. She opens the door as I stand in my spot on the soft ground confused. 

She opens the door and motions for me to go in, "Tulien, tulien. Let us go in." I walk past her and through the door, my tears already dried, and stand next to the table.

She holds a hand up, signaling me to stay put, and goes up the stairs. I sigh and pull out a chair from the table, it groans against the ground. I sit down and put my head in my hands. I know that she's an elf, and they are supposed to be wise, but sometimes she makes no sense.

She's an old elf, though she'll never look the part, and her mind is still stuck in the earlier ages even though she will not admit to it. I guess she is wise but in her own way. Just like every other elf out there, she has picked up knowledge through her long life and in a way that makes her wise, wiser than me. But still, she makes no sense.