Firiel

Author's Notes:
Disclaimer/Author's Notes: I own nothing but the Original Characters and their adventures. Everything else belongs to JRR Tolkien, the Tolkien Estate, New Line Cinema/Peter Jackson, et. al. This was done purely for entertainment. I reap no monetary benefits from this and have nothing worth suing me for. Thanks to Neumeindle for being my beta

Firiel was placed on a huge bed while various ellethen cleaned her and helped to tend her wounds under their lord’s instructions. When it was clear that she had no wounds that should keep her unconscious so long, Lord Elrond himself came to examine her. As he closed his eyes and set his mind to search deeper into her wounds he found something which that surpriszed and amazed him. Even though this female looked mortal, Elrond could sense in her fëa something that could only be of elfin origin.

“How could this be possible?" Elrond thought to himself.
Yet it was not something which could be debated. The young one before him was no mere mortal; she was most certainly part elf. She was indeed a puzzle and Lord Elrond did not wish to have to deal with yet another puzzle in these dangerous times.
Elrond sighed. The Valar had sent this little one to him to heal and who was he to question the will of the Valar. Elrond reached deep into her senses and called to her to return from the dark recesses of herself where her mind was shivering in denial of all that had recently befallen her.

“Lasto beth lamen,” he called firmly but gently. Then realizing he did not know her name and, remembering how he had teased his son earlier, he repeated, "Hear my voice little bird. Return to us now, all is safe.” Speaking mind to mind was extremely draining but it enabled whomever you were speaking to to understand the thought behind your words even if they did not understand your language.

Firiel heard someone calling to her, but he seemed to be calling across a wide chasm. There on the other side of a great canyon she saw a tall and handsome warrior dressed in shining armour. His face seemed to glow from within and he had the lovliest smile and the most welcoming eyes she had ever seen. Warmth and love seemed to flow out of him, and he was calling to her.

"Come little bird. Come back to me. You are safe here.Come back little bird.”

Firiel smiled. Was he actualy calling her "little bird"? How funny and strange, something about this stranger was reassuring, and she felt truly safe and comforted. Her eyes fluttered open for a moment as she followed the stranger’s voice. Firiel had thought she was dreaming, but there stood the same face she had seen in her dream, the one who had called to her.
“Why do you call me ‘little bird’?” she asked as she smiled and drifted into a sound sleep.

Once Elrond was certain that she was out of danger and would begin to heal normally he left the room, giving instructions that she should be watched over and that he should be notified immediately when she woke up. Meanwhile Elrond headed to his chambers hoping for a short rest and a quick drink. However, turning the corner he almost bumped into Erestor who was looking quite upset and mumbling to himself. It was almost unheard of for Erestor to be so preoccupied that he did not see where he was going, which made Elrond sigh and wonder what could be so wrong.

“What is the matter my friend?”asked Elrond with concern in his voice.

“Your sons found more on their trip than a wounded girl, my Lord, and I fear their news does not bode well. They are in your chambers waiting to speak with you. I will let them tell you more.”

Elrond nodded and felt a dull ache begin behind his eyes. The fact that Erestor was not willing to tell him everything at once meant the news was very bad indeed. Elrond sighed and continued into his private rooms where his sons waited to speak with him.
“I understand that you have news for me?” Elrond asked as he entered the room.

“The orcs which we encountered on the way here carried few supplies with them. They were too many to be a small rogue band and too poorly supplied. I fear they must have a base camp somewhere nearby,” answered Elladan.

"You wish my permission to take out a larger group of warriors to see if you can find their camp?” asked Elrond.

“Yes, they were far too close and I wish to ensure they have no opportunity to come closer,” was Elladan's reply.

Elrond directed his next question to his chief advisor who had joined them., “”What is your view on this Erestor?”

“Several of our best warriors were injured in the attack that took place on the way here. They will need time to heal. We should, however, send scouts to assess how large a group we are talking about, where they are based and perhaps send word to Lothlorien. Lady Galadriel may be able to spare some warriors if this group proves more than we can easily handle. Orcs venturing so close to Imladris is not a good sign,”, answered Erestor.

“I agree. Elladan, Elrohir, I do not like sending the two of you out so soon after returning but it would seem we have little choice. Sleep well this night, tomorrow take a small group with you and find this camp of orcs. Once you know their numbers either send for reinforcements from home, or if they are too many to easily handle send for help from the Golden Wood.”

“As you wish,” answered Elrohir.

Elrond could not help but be proud of his sons. They had grown into fine, hearty young warriors. Elrond hated the evil times they were now forced to live in. Too seldom did he have the chance to visit with his sons as he would wish, and even fewer chances to visit with his daughter.

Elladan interrupted his thoughts by asking,"What of the girl we found ? How is she?”

Elrond was somewhat surprised because normally Elrohir would ask after something or someone his father had endeavoured to heal.

“She is doing as well as can be expected. She requires rest. She is very fortunate that you found her.,” answered Elrond.

“Did she tell you her name?” asked Elrohir.

“No, not yet , but I am sure we will learn more after she has recovered from her ordeal,” Elrond replied with a slight grin playing on his lips as he sighed inwardly to himself. It was sad that his sons did not have more time to devote to the young and lovely elleth who lay resting in the healing wing.
At that moment someone knocked hard and fast on the door. Elrond went to open it wondering what would have anyone in his household so upset that they would disturb him during a private meeting with Erestor and his sons.

“You pardon for the interruption my Lord, but you said you wish to be told immediately when the young elleth awoke. She is awake my Lord, and she seemed quite frightened, almost hysterical. Oh, and my lord, it seems she does not speak any Sindarin.”

Elrond’s eyes opened wide at the appearance of the maid who had come to get him. Her hair was sticking out here and there and the front of her robes were drenched. Bits of food dangled in her hair and hung off her robe. There was a frustrated frown on her face and a look of concern in her eyes.

“Forgive my appearance my Lord, but considering her distraught state, and not being able to speak Westron myself, I thought it better that I come to get you directly.” The maid smiled and blushed.

“That’s quite alright Uthiel. If you all would excuse, me it seems I have a patient to attend to,” Elrond said as he rose and hurried out the door. It was a strange thing to find an elleth who did not speak at least a little Sindarin, but perhaps she was a Wood Elf, in which case she was a very long way from home.

Elrond came to the closed door of the healing rooms and entered. The place was even more of a shambles than Uthiel had been. There was food all over the floor along with broken crockery and a tray. All of the drawers were opened and had been rifled through as though someone had been desperately looking for something. The young elleth was standing as far across the room as she could get, clutching the down comforter around her like a shield and holding a blunt butter knife as if to fend off anyone who should approach. Elrond thought perhaps she was feverish and it affected her judgment. He started to approach her, talking softly and reassuringly the whole while and repeated himself in every elfin tongue he knew. He found it shocking that she did not seem to understand a word that he was saying and thought, "Where could she have been raised that she knows no elvish at all?"

Finally the girl worked up her nerve and spoke. Questions spilled over like water pouring from a breach, as though a damn had burst inside her. She spoke in Westron.
“Where am I? Who are you? What is this place? How did I get here? Why was I brought here? Where are my things?" Firiel said all this in as close to one breath as she could manage and the exertion and excitement left her a little dizzy and nauseous. She swayed as though she might faint and Elrond, having the lightning swift reactions of a seasoned warrior, was at her side and disarmed her so that she might not fall and injure herself further. This was more than Firiel could take in her weakened state and she proceeded to throw up- all over Elrond.