Chapter 12

When she woke up the next day, Leda allowed herself exactly eight minutes to cry and wallow before forcing herself to get her shit together.

So what, she thought as she wiped at her leaking nose, if she was lost in what could at best, be another planet or at worst, be another dimension? And so what if this other planet or possible dimension was currently a violent warzone and she had no means to communicate with the populace? So. What?

She'd dealt with worse, right? It might not be an tracheometry or- or- an emergency fasciotomy on the pavement outside while the patient ranted about wanting to be treated by a white doctor (which had happened more times than the acceptable zero) but she could do it, right?

And if dad had been there he'd- her heart seized.

Dad.

He'd be so happy to be there. He'd- He'd-

She shook her head, determined. Dad wouldn't lose it. He'd mumble some crap about Mercury and figure it out.

She didn't have time to sit around and cry. She theorised that with the time already wasted she had at best, twenty days to get back to the Vortice and at worse (and assuming Dr Morgan would leave at least a week to study the Vortice) around seven. So when Elrond entered (with a silent Glorfindel and a guard she would later learn was called Lindir) with a pile of writing utensils, she didn't immediately descend into blubbering, she got to work.

"Leda." He'd said as he gave her a quill and a piece of rough parchment paper and mimed writing. "Tietha."

She'd hesitated for only a second but then grabbed the quill and Tietha'd the crap out of her shitty situation.

As the hours passed she realised they were actually gotting somewhere. It was slow, and easier for her to teach Elrond English than it was for her to wrap her mouth around the music they called 'Sin-dareen'. But when words failed, as it did when mid-way through the day she had needed a wee, gesticulation was used to various degrees of success.

"What the hell is this?" She had squeaked after a reddened Elrond had led her out to another room in the hallway.

It was windy, and she had to raise her voice a little to be heard over the whistling. The walls were jagged rock, not smoothed like her study/bedroom. There was a crack running through the middle of the floor and the ceiling funnelled up to an opening, letting in light. In the corner there was a trough filled with water and a basket filled with large green leaves.

Elrond, who had looked as if he wished he was anywhere else, mimed using the facilities and then booked it out of there. She peered into the crack and it lowered into pitch black, but beneath the wind she could hear running water. Aghast, she swallowed only once before lowering over the hole to pee. It splashed everywhere, of course and she squealed a lot but when she had emerged, with freshly washed hands from the trough that smelled of lavender, a sense of pride filled her.

So, they didn't have running water or electricity or anything really, that might indicate an advanced society. She wasn't planning on sticking around until they discovered the wheel so she could deal with it. Kind of.

Now, the setting sun stretched long shadows over the piles of parchment paper, filled with drawings and Elrond's elegant Cyrillic script and her own, chaotic Doctor's scrawl. Glorfindel had spent the hours silently pacing and staring into space. Now his ginormous body was stuffed into the armchair beside Elrond, chin resting in his hand as he gazed unblinking at the heap of leaves. It was a little weird but as long as he wasn't breaking her stuff- which had apparently been confiscated because she hadn't seen them since the night before- she was fine.

Plus, she had more important things to worry about, like the few concrete things she had figured out. The place she was in was called Turco en Hithaeglir. The river she had popped out of was called the Brew-inen, and the things that had tried to murder them all were called Orchs. But there was something else on her mind- a question that had been twisting her guts all day.

"Is-is" Elrond looked up from he was studying her drawing of the river, concerned by her struggling.

"Leda ok?" He asked perfectly. His memory was impeccable- he didn't need a parchment of hastily scrawled translations like she did. "Neck? Neck no ok?"

Absently touched her neck. He'd taken one look at her struggling to swallow some bread earlier and made Lindir bring her a soured mint smelling cream to slaver over her bruising. After hesitating she'd squeaked in surprise as it burned and then numbed. It wasn't morphine, but it helped like hell.

"No. Uh-Neck ok, Elrond. See?" She said swallowed to show him. "I mean- I was trying to ask-" He waited patiently for her to gather the words. In the corner of her eye, Glorfindel shifted his head into his other hand. "Is…Is Gildor ok? Belwen? Are they…ok?"

Elrond's lips pursed and she watched his face anxiously for any change. She had been too out of it the day before to really look at him but he was- well. He was something. He was handsome, like everyone else and had the same, long pointed ears but he was a little broader in the shoulders. Burlier. He had a long, proud nose and a soft jaw but more importantly- he had four fingers, not three and she couldn't stop staring at them. She wanted to ask him about it but she didn't have the words yet and it bugged the hell out of her. What was different about him?

He clucked his tongue, taking her out of her observations. "U…No, Leda. Gildor no ok. Belwen no ok."

She licked her dry lips, tried to ignore the pang of nauseous worry. "They're not- they're not dead, are they?"

As he worked through the unknown words he frowned and then looked surprised.

"No- no gwann. Ach no ok. No Gwann. Ach no ok."

Leda heat thumped as grabbed her translation page. There was no Gwann- but she hoped to got it meant dead.

Her skin prickled as some of the worry abated. "Ok. That's great. Can I see them?"

His long hair ruffled the parchment in his lap when he shook his hand. "No. Leda no see Gildor a Belwen."

She tried to ignore the sinking feeling. So what? It was worth a shot. She shuffled her papers in her lap distractedly. It wasn't like she even cared, right? It was just the usual detached Doctor/Patient worry she was used to. She wasn't here to make friends. Soon, Elrond would understand her, and he'd realise it had all been a mistake he'd let her get back to the Brew-inen. It would have just been nice to see then before she went, that was all. She didn't care.

Right?

"Leda ok?" Elrond bent his head to catch her distracted eyes. "Neck? No ok?"

She gave a quick, dismissive smile. "No- I mean yes. I'm fine. Neck ok, Elrond."

He nodded, looked to Lindir nodded and called: "Tolo."

This time she was sure she hadn't heard a knock. How far could they hear and to what frequencies? Could they hear her heartbeat? Her stomach grumbling?

Two men walked in carrying a steaming wooden trough. They set it in the corner and left, passing a woman who brought in a tray of food and a stack of cloths. She made to set her things on the coffee table but, seeing the mess of sheets and blanching when she saw the pile of leaves, quickly dumped her items onto the empty desk and scurried out.

Leda blinked at their hasty departures as Lindir shut the door. "Is that going to keep happening?"

Elrond smiled and beckoned her over to the trough and mimed bathing, pointing to the stack of cloths the woman had left. There was a yellow block on top and when she picked it up her nose wrinkled at the strong citrusy smell. No electricity or running water but they obviously weren't total cave men. If you ignored the fact that they lived in a series of caves.

"Sovo-" He said, and then pointed to the food. "Mat." A word she struggled to remember. It meant drink or eat or both. Then he pointed to the couch. "Îdh"

She nodded. She could eat and wash and do whatever the hell an id-heugh was. It probably meant sleep or something like it. He tapped Glorfindel's shoulder who shook as if coming awake and blinked around like he had forgotten where he was.

"Man?" He asked, voice thick and deep. It was the first word he had said in hours and Leda eyed him warily as he stretched. His long arms rose high and back at an unnatural angle and his renaissance era white shirt rode up away from black trousers to reveal a sliver of cream, taught skin that she rolled her eyes at. What a cliché. And of course he was ripped. It was probably all the murder he committed. Even if the murder was to save poor unsuspecting Doctor's who had fallen through theoretical portals.

Elrond cast a glance at the pile of leaves and then sighed at his friend. "Tolo."

Glorfindel nodded, rose and like the night before, finally settled a heavy, perplexed gaze on her.

Her back straightened. "What?" She demanded.

His jaw ticked and their stare off continued until he conceded and broke eye contact. She shook her arms to ward off the weird feeling that had welled up.

He shook his head, mummured: "Losto vae…Leda." and left. Elrond and Lindir following moments later leaving her alone.

As she munched on another sticky, sweet bread roll and slurped down the surprisingly delicious soup the woman had left her she went through the other things she had left her. A brown, shapeless tunic that she guessed she was supposed to put on. Three different rags of varying sizes and a wide-tooth comb that looked like it had been whittled from rock. Confused, she stared at the different sized rags. Which one was she supposed to wash her cooch with?

There was something about washing the guts of monsters off your body and wrangling your clean, bushy hair sticky-out plaits that put her in a good mood. A good mood that managed to last for two days until it threatened to break.

"But I need to go back." She said as Elrond shook his head. He'd said no the nine previous times but this time she was sure he was going to understand. "I have to go back to the Brew-inen. I have to. Or I might not to be able to get home at all- do you- can you even understand that?"

He picked up an open book from the table and held it out to show a drawing she'd come to know well. It was a double page portrait of one of the monsters. It's rotting maw was wide open, a bloody limb sticking between its needle teeth and it was standing atop a mash of bones and body parts, each drawn in excruciating detail.

He tapped the page. "Orch. Yrch. No Leda go. Dartha. Stay. Leda Stay."

She huffed, ignored the skitters of fear at the sight and pushed at the inked pages.

"I don't care about the fucking Orchs- the Yrch. I have to go back to the Brew-inen or I can't go home. I can't go-"

"No!" And for the first time, he raised his voice. He blinked and he used her surprise to push the drawing closer, right under her nose. When he spoke again his voice was soft, pleading.

"No. Leda dartha en Turco en Hithaeglir. No Bruinen. Yrch. Orch. No."

"But-"

He tapped the page again. "Orch."

He said. And then he sighed and said the same thing he had been saying since he'd learned the words 'go' and 'back'. "Leda go no Orch. Go no Orch."

It was the same no/yes answer she had been getting since the day before. You can't not go, you just can't go now. He didn't understand that she wasn't asking them to come. She'd go by herself. All she needed was to be pointed in the right direction. She didn't have time to wait for the Orchs to go. She'd just…go around them. Somehow.

Elrond's hand hovered between and she tensed. He sighed and dropped it back to his lap, offered her an apologetic smile instead.

"Leda ok?"

No. She wasn't. But she wasn't going to lose it and she wasn't so jaded that she didn't know that his no/yes answer was his was of trying.

"I'm fine." She sighed. "Leda is fine. Let's- let's just get back to writing. To uh- tietha'ing."

He nodded, but looked confused as he rifled through the papers on the table. "Fine?"

"It means good. It's like ok. Fine and Ok are the same."

Her explanation only served to confused him as he scanned a sheet. "Say-me. Same. No same. Leda no tietha same."

"Ok- er. Look. Ú and no, right? They're the same. And-" She rooted in the pile for two leaves and held them up. "Gold. Silver. Different colours but the same leaf."

The rustle of the leaves finally roused Glorfindel. He straightened, blinked at drowsily at her and pushed a lock of hair behind his tapered ear.

Elrond still looked confused so she pointed to both of them and their ears.

"Same. You- Elrond. Glorfindel. You're both the same."

It took a moment, but then he clucked his tongue in understanding. "Ah- same."

But then he pointed an index to Glorfindel and she realised he hadn't understood it at all. "No same. Elrond. Glorfindel no same."

"Oh- wait. Look- same leaves." She shook the leaves again and then to them. "Same like- you. Elrond. Glorfindel. Same."

Elrond's smiled indulgently like she was the confused one and not him. "Same Laurelin lass. Same Telperion lass."

She glanced at her translations. Lass. Leaf. Ok. So he understood. So why-

He held up his hand, wiggled his four fingers and raised Glorfindel's hand by the wrist.

"See- Ú same. Elrond. Glorfindel. No same, Leda."

"But- Oh." She breathed, gaze flitting between their different hands. "You get it. You're just not the same at all."

Her mind raced. Was one of them a sub-species, perhaps? Maybe they were evolutionary cousins coexisting like Homo Sapiens and Neanderthals? But- she sneaked a peek at Elrond's ears, perfectly curved upwards and stationary, perhaps from his state of calm. They were the same height. The same build more or less. They even looked to be the same age hovering somewhere around her own twenty-six. Maybe their two species lived in close proximity? Or maybe- but no, that was dumb. Chemical war-fare was hundreds of years off for them. She didn't think either them or the Orchs were capable of making a biological attack capable of causing generational appendage defects. So-

"Edhel." Elrond pointed to Glorfindel and then himself. "Peredhel."

"Edhel. Peredhel." She sounded them out- noticing their similarities. Ok. So more sub-species and less birth defect. But to what degree? She hadn't seen anyone here that looked like her. Would she be classed as a Peredhel as well because she had four fingers?

She tapped her chest. "Leda Peredhel too?"

This startled a laugh out of Glorfindel and she jumped, caught off by the deep boom. His eyes closed and she realised that it was easier to look at him when she was in no danger of catching his eye.

Whatever beauty she had grudgingly acknowledged about him was amplified tenfold by his joy. All Edhel- and Peredhel too, she guessed- were beautiful. But it was a startling beauty. They were so symmetrical that they almost didn't look real. It was unsettling. But as Glorfindel's wide mouth parted and his tongue lay against his lip and the deep rumble of his laughter filled her chest- their beauty seemed a little closer than it had before. Not so alien. Not so…distant.

"Ú. Leda Atan." Elrond smiled kindly, even though it looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh too. Even Lindir smirked briefly by the door he hadn't moved in hours. "Elrond Atan a Edhel. Leda no Peredhel."

He was likely trying to tell her that there were people there that looked like her and that procreation was possible between them and Edhel. If humans existed, did that mean- and it was hardly possibly- that she was on earth- or some earth-like planet or dimension with similar evolutionary tracks as her own? But she sniffed, insulted and folded her hands in her lap.

"Well how was I supposed to know that I wasn't- one of you?" She sniffed feeling embarrassed as Glorfindel's laughter finally began to die down. She picked up another piece of parchment and pretended to read over it. "Glad to know you guys can laugh. Now let's get back to figuring out how to get me home."

Her days were filled with temperamental quills that she accidentally snapped and heavy broths that made her feel queasy, but it was the nights that plagued her. With no one to distract her they were cold and lonely and in that loneliness all the things she tried to forget came rushing back to keep her awake.

It was torture. And desperate, she'd quickly figured out a way to stop herself spiralling: she spoke with her guard, Lindir. Or rather to him. He never responded, but he never left, either. And if that was the only comfort she could get- well, she wasn't going to bother with the minutia of it.

"I know I can't see them." She muttered to Lindir on the fourth night through the open door. Her head was poked out through the small gap, body hidden behind the thick door. Turco en Hithaeglir was windy and as lovely as her gifted tunic was, the thing material was a terrible insulator. The Edhel didn't seem to mind the cold- in fact, it didn't seem to bother them at all. Elrond always looked surprised when he caught her shivering and then guilty, like he'd forgotten something. "It's just that I'm a Doctor. I can help. But I can't even explain that to Elrond or Celeborn. They barely understand me as is."

She leaned her head against the doorjamb and stared up at the underside of his jaw. He was big- broad in the shoulders of course, tall too. Only an inch or two behind Elrond but he looked younger, than Elrond- late teens or early twenties and she wondered, not for the first time, where were all the adults?

"It's stupid but I kind of miss Gildor- even Belwen and she only said about three words to me." She admitted and then, ashamed despite him not being able to understand, added quickly: "Well not miss, you know? Not like- not like a friend would miss another friend. Just like- Doctor'ly concern, of course. I don't miss them. Not like I- Like I miss my dad."

He blinked slowly and Leda focused on the subtle rise and fall of his chest and not on the burn in her eyes at the thought of her poor dad. "Did you know that he wouldn't even come to the phone? Wouldn't even talk to me and when I left I was so annoyed but I get it now- I should have gotten it before. Way before. I should have believed him. But believing him meant imagining a world where mum wasn't dead but lost- and how could I even have dealt with that? I can barely deal with it now."

She looked down, scuffed her bare feet against the cool floor. "It's what I keep trying to ignore. If I'm here then I'm living proof that he was right. That the Vortice is real. And if I'm here and he was right then he didn't kill mum- she fell through too. But what if there was no Gildor? What if there were only the orc-"

She choked off, and Lindir's fingers twitched by his side at the sound. Her lip wobbled and she rubbed at her watery eyes, sniffing.

"I just can't stop thinking about how much I must have hurt him. And how much time I wasted and how I need to get back but what if she's here? And if she is here how can I help her if I get stuck? I have to go back, tell my dad and then we can come back and find her. Together."

She huffed a watery laugh. "All these years of me ignoring him and calling him crazy- to his face. He was all I had and I just- locked him away. Some daughter I am. Right, Lindir?"

She had never been like this. Emotional. She never usually cried and now she was here, on the verge of tears every second and fumbling with her emotions like a child unable to cope.

"Sorry." She whispered and then rolled her eyes. "Why am I even saying sorry? You can't understand me- I can't even understand me."

She glanced up but he was the same- blank, unmoving.

"Right." She muttered, dejected and shut the door. "Good talk, Lindir."

"Suck it up, Ackerman." She muttered as she made her way to the couch and sat down heavily. "All this wallowing and what-if'ing is going to make you finally go insane. You got a couple more days until they finally understand you and then you'll be off to the Vortice and then you can come back with dad and find mum. Because you've spent ten years thinking she'd dead and now you have proof that she- that she-"

She lowered her head into her hands and pressed her palms into her burning eyes. She was ready to haver her customary cry before bed but someone cleared their throat making her jump.

"Jesus!" She squeaked.

He held out what looked like a dressing gown for her to take.

She eyed it warily. "Uh…you want me to put it on?"

He looked down his proud nose at her, jerked his chin and she scrambled to do just that.

She was trying to tie it at the waist when she realised he was already walking out of the door.

"Tolo ar nin." He called over his shoulder.

She hesitated for a few seconds and then followed hurriedly, marvelling at how deep his voice was despite his boyish face. He led her down a series of twisting, winding tunnels that ended in a bright opening. He motioned her to go first and she edged around him, skidding to a halt at what she saw.

"Holy shit." She breathed, looking down.

It was a huge garden in a cave, extending wide across and ending further than she could see. Moonlit stalactites hovered high above, as did natural skylights of missing rocks that let in strong silver moonlight. There were trees and clearings and when she squinted she even saw some fuzzy statues, hidden amongst the lush grove. Their door was only a short way from the ground and there was a set of steps leading down. Along the walls she could make out other entrances and sets of stairs, all at varying heights and intervals and a few large balconies as well. Just how big was Turco en Hithaeglir? How far had the Edhel and Peredhel tunnelled and how long had it taken them? It reminded her of Petra. Maybe these men and women were the descendants of the first people. Maybe they had always lived her. Or maybe the Orch's had driven them in like scattered mice.

Either way, it was insane.

She walked down the first few steps and turned when she realised, he wasn't following. "Aren't you coming?"

He shook her head and jerked his chin down. She shrugged and continued down, pushing away any irrational fears. She wasn't in any danger, she had to remind herself. They hadn't killed her yet. Hadn't shown any signs that they wanted to gut her like they gutted Orchs. She couldn't trust them but she wasn't in any immediate danger.

Her bare toes threaded between soft grass as she reached the bottom and she laughed, almost delirious. How was she even here? How was this possible? She had spent so long just trying not to fall into a well of hopelessness that she hadn't even acknowledged the fact that she might actually be in a new dimension. With two species with complex language- customs. Proof of life in the universe- or, multi-verse or whatever. She grinned, giddy. It felt like she had when she'd first been accepted to university, sitting on her care home bunkbed clutching the headed paper seeing a way out for the first time in years.

For a while she was alone, weaving between alien trees and fluorescent plants until a bright glow called her attention. She drifted towards it, curious to what glowed brighter than anything else and it wasn't till she was upon him that she realised her mistake.

Glorfindel stood in a patch of silvery light, clutching one of the leaves reverently. His eyes were closed, head tipped back and he was murmuring lowly. His natural glowing – a occurrence she had to grudgingly accept was real – mixed with the moon and the leaf and it was hard to make out his features. She recognized a few words from where she watched behind a tree. Yavanna. Ezehollar. Aman.

It almost looked like he was…praying.

A sudden surge to leave filled her, like she was on the verge of seeing something she shouldn't, and she made to leave. But because this was a living nightmare following the rules of every cliché ever written, a twig snapped under her foot.

Glorfindel dropped his hands, the glow around him dimmed and she found herself unable to move as his eyes locked with hers.

"I-I-" She stuttered. He stepped forward, out of the moonlight. He didn't look angry- just confused. He stepped towards her, holding out the leaf.

His brows furrowed. "Leda? Man-"

She heart leapt. She spun around before he could reach her, shouted: "Sorry!" over her shoulder and legged it back in the direction of the steps.

It took a while but once she arrived, puffing and out of breath, Lindir took one look at her distress and led her back to her room. His ears flicked as did, as if he was listening to something- or someone.

In the safety of her own hallway her heart finally stopped thumping as he opened her door and gestured for her to go inside. He tried to close it behind her, but she stuck her foot in the gap to stop it.

"Thank you." She said, neck craned up, small smile on her face. "I- er, I know you can't understand me but thank you. I needed that. Even if it did go a bit wrong in the end."

He blinked at her and then sighed, seemed to struggle for a moment before touching her shoulder lightly. He didn't smile, but like Gildor in the clearing, his face softened.

He pushed her foot gently back into the room.

"Leda, îdh." He said quietly and then shut the door.

Now alone, she waited for the usual panic and hopelessness to come back but it never came and the walls, which had before threatened to collapse, stilled their movement if just for that night.

Elrond tapped the spiral she had drawn. "Vhur-teese?"

Leda nodded, eager. It was now mid-afternoon on Day Six. It was just them and Lindir, who stood sentry by the door but who she had caught, on occasion, watching with interest as she they worked.

Ever since she had seen Glorfindel in the Cave Garden he hadn't come back to her room. Her eyes often looked to the empty armchair and she grew annoyed by how anxious she felt at his absence. Had she accidentally offended him? She wasn't sure how she would feel if that were true.

"No- Vortice. Vooortice." She dragged another full paper their way, tapping at his drawing of the lake. "The Vortice. Portal. In the Brew-inen. I fell in- or-" She frowned and started again. "I was dragged in and brought here, to Arda."

Elrond drummed his fingers on the table. "Bermewda to Arda?"

"Yes! That's what I've been trying to tell you." Freedom felt near and she was almost buzzing at the prospect. "The island- Bermuda. Leda in Vortice."

"Leda in Vhor-" He cleared his throat and tried again. "Vortice in Bermew- Bermuda. Leda in Vortice in Bruinen?"

She nodded, eager. "Yes. I was in Bermuda, I fell into the Vortice and now I'm… here. In Turco en Hithealgir. But it's going to close, Elrond. I don't know how much time I have."

He blinked and she groaned- so close and yet so far.

"It's going to close. Vortice close. Leda no in Bermuda because the Vortice." She snapped her hands together. "Close. Soon."

She expected him to raise his eyebrows and go Ai! like he did when understood something but instead he frowned, hummed lowly and leaned back against his armchair. Her giddiness evaporated. Didn't he get it?

"El-Elrond-" Her voice broke around the sudden desperation and she leaned forward. "Please. I have to go back. I have to go back to the Brew-inen."

When he looked to her his eyes were sad. "Leda-"

Shouting in the hallway broke off whatever rebuttal he had been about to say.

Lindir flung the door open and a gaggle of armoured men and women stumbled inside, all speaking at once. Leda shrunk back, away from the noise and new people and watched warily as Glorfindel pushed his way inside the suddenly cramped room too. His hands fiddled at his waist, trying to secure a gleaming breastplate.

Elrond shouted above the cacophony and held out a hand. It must have been a command because everyone but Lindir and Glorfindel went quiet, did a complicated salute that ended with their fists knocking against their hearts and then ran out.

Glorfindel nodded to Elrond and held out a helmet for him to take.

Leda's heart stuttered in her chest. Home was so close! He couldn't go. He couldn't. "W-wait-"

She wasn't even aware she had moved until her hand was comically trying to wrap around Elrond's thick wrist. He was warmer than Gildor but not by much.

"Where are- are you leaving? Are you- where are you going? Are you going to the Bruinen?" The words tumbled out all over each other. "Are you going back- you have to take me with you. You have to-"

"Leda!" Elrond snapped. She flinched and stepped away, shaking her hand as if he had burned it.

"Heron. Tolo." Glorfindel called by the door, impatient. He handed Elrond the helmet and went back to trying to clip his breastplate into place.

Elrond's jaw ticked; his eyes cut to Lindir. "Dartha di Leda. Thand Leda."

Lindir did the weird hand to his breast thing and stood to attention.

Elrond's hand rose, hovered in the air before them before curling into a fist and lowering. He slipped his helmet on and behind his visor his eyes were hard.

"Leda. Dartha." He said. And then he was gone. Hurrying down the hallway after Glorfindel who turned at the last moment, shot her another indecipherable look, and then disappeared too.

She tried to stay awake- really, she did but eventually she gave in and woke with again with a start.

She could have sworn she'd fallen asleep sitting up but she her eyes opened she was lying on her side, curled up under a new, thick blanket.

Squinting into the bright like she groaned as she stretched and then gargled a scream when she saw Lindir sitting opposite, quietly sipping out of cup.

"Christ- Lindir-" She gasped trying to untangle herself from the cocoon of the blanket that had been tucked under her. She felt hot, and her skin prickled under the soft blue material. "We gotta put some bells on you or something. Have you been here this whole time?"

He raised an eyebrow and continued to sip from his drink even as she grunted and with one kick, managed to dislodge the cover from around her and sit up.

"Are they back?" She asked. He ignored her and pushed a cup of water her way. It was still steaming, obviously freshly boiled but she couldn't see a lantern in sight. Had he boiled it for her? Had he…put the blanket on her too? That made her feel a little weird, as grateful as she was.

She chugged back the scalding liquid and scoffed down the bread roll he pushed towards her next..

"Elrond? Glorfindel?" She asked as she spread a fresh dollop of Nesta cream along her neck.

He shook his head slowly. Uncomfortable, she chewed the skin of her bottom lip. Where were they? She was running out of time. And if- She cut off her own thought. No more rabbit holes. They didn't help and they'd only make her feel worse. She should keep busy. Hopefully.

She picked up the top piece of paper and shook it at Lindir.

He cocked his head to the side and set down his cup.

"I guess if we're stuck together we may as well get something done."

He blinked and she took that as a yes.

"Ok. So you might have to catch up but…"

"So canaque is ten?" She asked. Lindir nodded. He wasn't much of a talker, but at least he was engaging. She turned her head to the side to read the scribbling along the edge. "Then that means…mimp is eleven and imp is twelve and-"

She looked up, caught Lindir staring at the door and frowned. "Are you ok? Did I get it wrong?"

His ears flicked and he stood, marched to the door and opened it letting in a stream of people. Elrond was first, sporting a bruise just under his eye. Then Glorfindel who was covered in blood as usual. Celeborn, who was immaculate, followed. His arm was wrapped around the shoulders of a willowy woman with blonde hair. Lastly a younger woman walked in followed by a short old man in grey robes carrying a wooden staff.

They clustered by the table and stared at her, raising her hackles. She knew it was too good to be true. A rubbing in her head made her hands twitch- it was like someone had cracked her skull open and was stroking her dura mater.

The man in grey stepped forward, away from the crowd. The rubbing on her brain turned to scratching sharply and alarmed she stood quickly. Her knee whacked against the table, jostling the cups and papers and leaves. The scratching white hot once, then twice and she shut her eyes, and stumbled back.

"What the fuck is that?" She spat, squinting as her back hit the wall. She felt cornered like a wild animal and she sunk to her knees, and pressed her palm to the side of her head. The grey man held up two placating hands but the scratching turned to squeezing and she cried out.

"Whatever you're doing stop-"

The man's looked alarmed and then straightened from his hunch and bellowed.

"Artanis!"

The pressure stopped and Leda gasped, feeling as though she'd run a thousand miles. Her eyes roved, rolling around the room unable to settle. What the hell was-

Leda.

She looked to the old man, who was hunched again and hobbling forward. He kneeled in front of her and smiled. She recoiled from him, frantic.

"Go away- go away-"

Leda it is alright.

She blinked, confused. To the side she saw Glorfindel and the woman Celeborn had held step forward. Her face was longer, sterner, and her height matched his. They clasped hands and Glorfindel's ears twitched against his drenched hair, but they came no further. They were waiting. For what?

Leda look at me.

Her head lolled and she looked to the smiling man in grey whose mouth didn't move and she immediately knew it was him who was speaking. His voice was gravelly, filled with age. But comforting- or as comforting as someone speaking into your mind could be.

My name is Olorin. Do not be afraid.

"I just want to go home. Please." She whined, feeling a fog settle over her. "I'm lost."

Olorin's smile turned sad.

I know, his voice breathed into her mind. I am going to help you.

"How-" She spluttered. "How-"

Her vision flashed white and a scream sounded, a single high note that warbled in and out of each ear. And then everything went black.

She must have only passed out for a few seconds, but when she came to it was to a scrabble of voices all speaking at once, vying to be heard.

"Do you believe it was successful?"

"Well, I should hope so. By the time it took her to learn Sindarin she might well have perishe-"

"I am afraid we pushed too far. I did not think to encounter such a block. Have you ever seen such a thing?"

Someone harrumphed. "Never. Though I have not long arrived here."

"It was as though she were aware of my presence in her mind- it actively pushed against my voice. I could only gleam glimpses. What did you see, Istar?"

"Mother, how do you fare?"

Leda blinked awake. She was lying on the ground, cheek smooshed against the cool floor. It helped a little with the fact that it felt like her brain was leaking out of her ears.

She looked up and saw triple of everything. A blank faced Lindir swam on the edges of her vision, accompanied on either side by his exact copies.

Mesmerised, she spent a little time watching his copies wobble around the edges. Was she drunk? She felt drunk. When did she drink alcohol?

"Yes, Lindir-" She slurred, mocking. Someone pet her head and she swiped a lazy, uncoordinated hand at them. "Continue to keep giving me nothing at all."

She must be drunk. That's the only thing that would explain those words coming out of her mouth. And why she was on the floor. And why it tasted like like spinal fluid was filling up in her mouth.

The voices in the room cut off abruptly but she ignored them. The triplet Lindir's lips' twitched and then smoothed into aloofness.

"Yes," She groaned, head wobbling against the floor. "Just stand there and say nothing and look pretty and-"

"You believe that I am 'pretty'?" The three Lindir's asked.

"-just ignore me like you always-" She squinted. "Well of course I think you're pretty. I think you're all pretty. It's like being stuck on the worst version of Top Model. You are- wait."

She blinked owlishly and struggled to sit up. A set of hands helped her- Olorin's from the grey robes and the crinkled, grey smile. For a moment she forgot to push him away.

"Did you just… understand me?"

Lindir stared for a moment as his twins buzzed and then fizzled away. He looked left, then right and then back to her. "Forgive me. Was I meant to continue to give you 'nothing at all' or did you wish for a response?"

She grinned.

Her brain was definitely melting out of her ears.

"Don't be a dick." She said and then leaned to the side and threw up all over Olorin's black boots.

Words: 6674

Author's Note:

Hello!

I hope everyone is keeping well. These times are trying us even worse than before but enough is enough. The world must change and I for one, cannot wait for it. #BlackLivesMatter

This chapter is VERY big. And has not been read allowed so there may be a ton of mistakes. I didn't want it to be this big and I don't think I could ever write another one like it but I felt like I couldn't cut anything out. It's also sort of a gift, for sticking with me for this long. And it's also an early apology because updates are about to get either very good or very bad. I've got 25k to write for my dissertations and the time is approaching where I'm needing to really sit down and get to them.

I hope you enjoy it! It's a bit jumpy and I know it doesn't flow as smoothly as previous chapters but I'm trying this thing you guys suggested where I don't obsesses over small details lol

If you're wondering about the insistence between the difference of Edhel and Peredhel, Tolkien was very firm on Peredhel not being elves and I wanted to show that here and had to shoe-horn it in early.

I want to say thank you to everyone for the reviews and comments. You don't understand what they mean to me! I also want to say- constructive criticism is welcome here. I will never say no to you voicing your opinions. That's what a good writing community does! What I will ask though, is that we all remain respectful. I will always respect you. I just ask that you do so in return.

A few of you have been theorising and I've purposefully let it go on this long because I wanted it to be as much a mystery to Leda as it is to you. The name Turco en Hithaeglir means Stronghold of the Misty Mountains. It is a name I made up. But you were right if you guessed Imladris. This is Turco en Hithaeglir is Rivendell before it becomes Rivendell. It's just been founded as a military stronghold during the Wars of the Elves and Sauron. This is my interpretation of what it might have been like as a military stronghold before it became The Last Homely House East of the Sea. Dates will come later but they're less important because here is where the AU really kicks in. Leda's presence sets of a chain reaction and from this point, nothing is right.

Translations:

(Q) Sovo: Wash

(S) Mat: Eat

Tietha: Write

Gwann: Dead

Tolo ar nin: Come with me

Man?: What?

Îdh: Rest/Sleep

Heron. Tolo: Lord. Come.

Dartha di Leda. Thand Leda: Stay with Leda. Protect Leda.

Thank you again for your patience with me and your support. I haven't replied to everyone's comments- these past couple of weeks have been really busy but I will get to them I promise! I really appreciate it and my heart leaps into my throat when I read all your comments. You guys keep me going!

Take all my joy and love for you,

Novaer,
Aobh x