There and Back Again: A Girl's Tale

Chapter 25 Family

Chapter 25 Family

Most of the dwarves chose to congregate at the front of the ship, but Elwen hung back. They spoke quietly of plans for when they made it across the lake, but her mind was too full of the past twenty-four hours to concentrate. In such a short amount of time, Elwen had found out she was some long lost princess, that she had a family who might never approve of her choices, and found herself engaged to a king.

Holy crap, what a screwed up fairy tale.

She found herself leaning against one of the abandoned barrels toward the rear with the bowman, the first human she'd seen since coming to Middle-earth. She wondered if that was why she found him so familiar, but something told her that wasn't quite right. As hard as she fought the urge, she couldn't keep her eyes from finding him where he stood steering the barge with quiet confidence.

It was impossible, she knew it was, but somehow Elwen felt like she knew him. When she looked at him, she got the same feeling she'd had wandering through the trees in Rivendell. A hint of the past flickered at the edge of her memories. She felt more than remembered.

"You're staring," said the stranger who wasn't a stranger. She quickly turned away and muttered an apology.

She tried to look anywhere but at him, so her gaze fell on Kili. Most of the other dwarves were deep in conversation, but Kili was quiet, his gaze far away and face white with pain. They had cleaned and bound his wound as best they could, but it was too deep. It would take a long time to heal, and they would be lucky if it didn't grow infected.

She was considering going to his side when she sensed eyes on her.

"Now who's staring?" she said, eyes narrowed.

"I'm trying to decide if you're an elf or not," said the man with a closed lipped grin.

Her shoulders stiffened. "Why does it matter to you what I am?"

"I don't suppose it does," he replied. "But it is curious. I've never seen an elf travel with dwarves before. I very much hope that I am not harboring a fugitive from the Woodland Realm."

His tone was teasing, but his dark eyes were sharp and perceptive. Hunter's eyes.

The statement was almost enough to make her laugh. Almost.

"I'm not a fugitive," she shifted uncomfortably. Not exactly. "I'm half-elf, if you must know."

The bowman's head whipped up.

"What did you say?" he breathed

"Um, I know half-elves aren't common, but---"

"You can count on one hand how many half-elves have been born in the last age."

Elwen started. That rare, huh?

"How do you know so much about elves?" she asked. Now it was her turn to be curious. "Who are you, exactly?"

"I'm called Bard," he said, his eyes growing hard, "and you can say that my family has had...dealings with the Woodland Realm."

By his tone, Elwen guessed that these dealings hadn't been all rainbows and butterflies.

"So you know the king?" she asked reluctantly.

Bard's voice darkened further. "Yes, I know King Thranduil."

Guess dear old dad isn't popular anywhere, Elwen thought wryly. The thought made her far happier than it should have.

Bard looked at her full in the face for the first time since she'd climbed aboard his barge. He audibly gasped when his eyes found hers.