Chapter 6: Getting Home a Little Late

After that, it was anticlimactic. She bathed for the occasion, dressed as she had been, refusing offers of a gown. Later she stood on the dais, with the King, his son and his son's wife, his wife holding the boy. Next to him stood his other sons, then King Menethil, his wife and the two Princesses Ilona, King Jotan and his queen and at the end of the line stood Bridgette.

There was nothing said about the events the day before. The presentation was followed by a nice dinner, then music and dancing. Bridgette enjoyed the meal and was happy again that she was at the end of the table, with only Gesand to talk to.

"Looking forward to the trip home?" the dwarf queen asked.

"Enormously."

"Jotan has had a message from your family. They've asked that he make haste returning you, but didn't say why. King Kiril has agreed that we will travel by ship again, this time closer to the Paths of the Dead.

"We will have to ride below decks this time, and board before dawn, lest the Nazgul see you. The king apologizes for sending you off like a unwanted merchant."

"Gesand, I am ever so glad to be going, I'd go wrapped in a pink ribbon if it meant going quicker. The king doesn't want me to take offense as to the precautions -- I hope he doesn't take offense at my desire to return home as fast as possible."

"Since we are all agreed, and moreover, we'll be headed downstream this time, you will find the trip much more agreeably short. Three days from now, you'll be home."

"That is short!" Bridgette exclaimed.

Bridgette eschewed the dancing -- a good thing as she recognized not one of the dances and none of the music.

At the end of the night King Kiril took her hand and kissed it. "Lady B, you have been a signal service to me and my realm, my family and so very many others. Still, if I were far from home, I'd long to return as well. Travel safely."

"I will, sir." She paused and then looked him in the eye. "I realize this is a little indelicate, but I've come to look upon both of the Princess Ilonas as friends. How long may Princess Ilona the younger stay here?"

He blinked. "Why, forever if that is her wish. She will always be welcome here. What that man did to her was unspeakable; I know there is nothing we can to do repay her for the pain and horror -- we can but ease her as we may. She may stay as long as she wishes; her sister may stay as long as she wishes. King Menethil is taking her elder sister home but she is free to return, and the younger will always be able to travel there -- just that right now I judge it too dangerous. The same thing with South Ithil. She'll always have a home there as well."

"I apologize for the infelicity of the question, King Kiril."

He shook his head. "You and they are friends; it is right that you should check. History is replete with stories of ungrateful princes and even on occasion, kings."

A few minutes later King Menethil bowed to her, while he too kissed her hand. "I understand you travel home, Lady B. Know, that you may travel to Rohan and be forever welcome."

She thanked him.

The older Ilona faced Bridgette. "I am sorry, Lady. I got you into this; I had no idea what it would take to get you out of it. And my sister."

"Princess, I grew up with tales of brave knights rescuing helpless princesses in distress. I never pictured myself as a brave knight, nor was I expecting to rescue even one princess and freeing another from exile."

"Travel safely, Lady B!"

Her younger sister smiled at Bridgette in the princess' apartment. "I asked Sir Weald a boon, Lady B."

"What was that, princess?"

"He danced with me three times. The last time he patted me on the bottom and had the most outrageous smirk on his face. I asked why he thought I shouldn't have his head struck off.

"He told me the strangest tale that you had told him I'd like it."

"He cares a great deal about you, Princess."

"At first, for the first few days after you freed me, the world was all weird and strange. I couldn't tell which of my memories were false and which were real. In the last day, I can tell which are which, although that damnable man's are still strong. I remembered my betrothal to Weald; I remember how happy I was when he held me in his arms when we danced. The memories of the days after my father told me that the betrothal was off and I was affianced to Prince Kirilin -- I cannot describe the depths of despair I felt.

"Then I met Kirilin and lost any ability to feel anything; I had no will or even thought to resist. Weald sent me a message saying he'd ride to me and steal me away. I ... I ... I gave it to Kirilin. Now I learned he sent to my father what Sir Weald was planning and my father put him in the dungeon until after the wedding. Kirilin forced me to write Weald a letter telling him that I loved him no more, that Kirilin was my one love, and not to trouble me again."

The princess put her arm on Bridgette's sleeve. "I thought I'd lost him forever. Now -- along with everything else, you've given him back to me. There is not enough payment in the world to pay you back for what you've done for me. However, I did think of one small token of my esteem."

With that, Bridgette felt the princess pat her on her bottom. Ilona laughed. "You're wearing mail! It spoils the effect!"

"After the last few nights, I thought it prudent."

"Please, you'll never tell Weald that for the second time I've tried to take -- liberties -- with you."

"Of course not, Princess."

"Men, particularly husbands, should never know how we women occupy ourselves when they are rescuing other women."

"In my case, it's parents I have to worry about, but the principle is the same."

Bridgette smiled and the two women kissed each other chastely on the cheek.

Morning came too early, but Bridgette had hardly slept a wink.

There was hardly anyone to see them off. They traveled a day inside a caravan of coaches, with the curtains drawn. Easily the most memorable thing about the first day's journey -- indeed about the only thing memorable -- had been one of King Kiril's knights visiting their inn near the docks.

"The king has commanded me to tell you that at first light this morning we heard from the troops investing Minas Ithil. Late last night, guards saw Nazgul flying around the city. The city was filled with alarms and trumpets; so the loyal troops readied themselves as well.

"A short while later a huge lightning bolt arched across the heaven, moving from southeast to northwest. It hit the palace. That was the first of many; there were by all accounts hundreds of bolts.

"Not long after the bombardment commenced, people began to pour out of the city, frantic with fear. The city emptied. They were sorted out, and kept under guard; there were none of the traitor's men among them.

"This morning the reports are that none survive in the city. The palace is a pile of rubble; they have found no other survivors in the city. The Nazgul have left and aren't to be found."

King Jotan merely nodded sagely and turned to Bridgette. "It looks like your plan worked, Lady B."

"So it would seem. A body would have been nicer, although odds are if he delayed his flight even for a heartbeat, he's ash now."

Again, the next morning they were hustled below decks of their ship, where there was nothing but stygian blackness and an awful stench. After an hour or so there was murky light when the sun came up. After lunch Gesand went briefly on deck and then returned below. "We are making very good time. The captain tells me that he'll dock just up the river from the Paths of the Dead. After dark he'll put us in boats and those will bring us across. He's sorry, but the King doesn't have enough gold to get him to risk his ship on that side of the river."

"How about the men on the boats?" Bridgette asked.

"Men? It'll be dwarves at the oars, Lady B. It isn't important -- not to worry."

"What of the boats then?"

"I expect he's getting paid enough to lose ten times the three that will be at risk. He's asked us to set them loose," Gesand said.

After dark they landed on the other shore of the river, and they made camp up a bit on a bench along the shore. They were up at first light and traveled fast; long before the sun was overhead they were beneath ground once again.

When they stopped in the Hall of the Mountain King, Jotan asked Bridgette how she was doing.

"I mean no offense, sir, but I feel like I could run the rest of the way without pause."

"Well, we dwarves have a bit further to travel, so we'll take it slow."

"I can't thank you and Gesand, and all the others enough."

"It is we who owe you. We sought only to stop a war between Rohan and the dwarves. We hoped to explain our actions at the presentation, and in the general goodwill, we'd be forgiven. While there was a lamentable lack of goodwill, at least it was directed in a suitable direction."

"Are we going to stop long? I have some mithrail that belongs to you."

"Keep it, Lady B. As a little souvenir of your sojourn with a raggedy band of dwarves..."

Gesand thumped her husband. "Speak for yourself!" she said with mock anger.

It was dark when they emerged in the lane where her car had stalled. There was a dark, hooded shape waiting for them.

"Returned safe to the bosom of her loving family, as promised."

It was a woman's voice, rather pleasant. "And you said you would keep me informed of things. Are you okay, Bridgette?"

"Well enough. I'm told you're family. I don't recognize you."

"I don't want to be just yet. Soon. King ... an explanation."

"It was -- complicated. There was much we didn't understand."

"Did Bridgette do as she was supposed to? Stop a war?"

"That and far, far more. Please, she is safe. Our debt is paid. Let us return home."

"She is wearing a white robe and carrying a staff. The staff is no surprise -- the robe is."

"Please, she can explain just as well as well. As Lady B. was eager to return home, so are we."

"Your debt is paid -- you may leave."

There was a swirl and a rushing sound, and the two of them were alone in the lane.

"Who are you?" Bridgette asked mildly. She was sure the other woman was an elf, although her senses were telling her this was her mother. That was flatly impossible. She'd have noticed before, she was sure. Sure, right. Like she'd noticed her abilities before.

The woman swept the hood back. "Aunt Eleni!" Bridgette exclaimed, seeing her mother's younger sister.

The woman worked for the Federal government, down in Salem, Oregon's capital, eighty or so miles south.

"I think I owe you truthfulness, Bridgette. I'm not your mother's sister."

"It seems more like you are my mother -- but obviously you're not."

"You heard about how long elves live. I'm an elf. No, I'm not your mother. I'm your mother's grandmother, your great grandmother."

Bridgette blinked. "We can stand here and talk -- or we can go to a safer place. I'd like to take you home."

"Am I ever ready to go home!"

"My home in Salem, Bridgette. What I have to say is going to take some explaining. I have a feeling from Jotan's hasty exit; you have a story as well. You can't do it at home, my dear. My grand daughter would kill me. That wouldn't be good. I can explain, and another day or two, I can make it as right as it can be made -- but please. As a favor to your old granny -- give me that time. I know you want to go home, but I wouldn't ask if this wasn't important."

"I have a choice this time? I didn't before!"

"I've known you since you were born, Bridgette. You have come back very different from when you left. I can't tell if it's the robe, the staff or you that has changed you. But you are like a giant searchlight glowing into the sky. The first thing I need to do is show you how to douse it, or you are going to have unexpected company within a few years."

"Worse than eight Nazgul?"

"Eight you say? No, not that bad -- at least not at first. But there you had help. Here there are no dwarves with magic axes. Please Bridgette, I know I've given you no reason to trust me, but you must. Please."

"Whisk us to your place on your broom," Bridgette said nastily.

Her aunt laughed. "We are wizards, my daughter -- not witches. Brooms don't work here. You will find your magic about a tenth of what it was back there. Please, I want you to lean your hand holding your staff towards me. I will put my hand around yours and demonstrate."

She did as bid, and this time she heard her aunt only in her head. And then she could see herself as well. A glow surrounded -- a very bright glow -- and an even brighter lance of light shooting into the sky from her staff.

"Now this is how to turn it down," her aunt said, and Bridgette followed the simple directions and the glow and lance vanished. Then her aunt ran her through bringing it back, before turning it off again.

"There," Aunt Eleni said. "My car is parked by the Wallace farm, about a mile and bit down the road. Lets walk down there and get in."

"What if they see us?"

"You know the answer to that yourself. They are dairy farmers. It's eleven at night, and they'll be getting up at four thirty. Right now they are all sound asleep."

"Okay," Bridgette said. "But you said: I have no reason to trust you."

"If you are ablaze with magic, and you're here after facing eight Nazgul, I imagine the Cliff Notes on Magic I gave you were of some help."

"Just a little on the cryptic side. So too the battle tactics and strategy."

Her aunt stopped and faced her. "Jotan taught you the language, right? He was supposed to."

"He did."

"Then they came from him, not me. I just contributed some information on magic. But lets wait until we get to the car. It is unlikely anyone is out and about tonight -- but I'd rather not titillate any curious ears."

"I have a message for you; that won't titillate anyone."

"A message for me? Who from?"

"Arwen."

"Are you sure it's from her? Jotan was to keep you as far from her as possible. We have bad blood between us. In fact, if she knew who the message was for, you're lucky to be alive, no matter how many worms you faced."

"She didn't know your name; she says your both cousins to a certain woman -- that's the woman she truly doesn't like."

"Her father was that woman's brother; her husband's sister was my mother. A rather round-about relationship that makes up in vitriol for the lack of actual kinship."

"She wishes to apologize to you, Aunt -- or Granny. Her dispute was with her for going west, and leaving her husband. Arwen stayed by her husband's side as you have stayed with yours. She is aware of the cost."

"You have no idea, Bridgette, but I'm afraid in time you will. Did Jotan describe lifetimes to you?"

"He did."

"You are a baby in a million. In fact I've contemplated you ever since I saw you in your mother's arms, right after your birth. Our people must have an affinity to each other that I don't understand. Your mother was a true half elf; she is going to have to watch your father die. While he is also a half elf, it's the wrong half. He'll have a normal life span. Your mother is hiding her apparent age now and has been for years. Your father alas is not.

"Honestly, we can only make guesses. Those with longer life spans are hard to judge over even a couple of hundred years. You get to a biologic limit, and it varies, and you appear to stop aging. When it starts back up is when you need to make your peace with the world.

"Back to your being a baby in a million; actually its a much larger number than that. You studied DNA in school?"

"Yes."

"Your father contributed half your DNA, your mother half. Half of a half should be a quarter. Two quarters should have added up to half again.

"Except you are a close to full blood as I've ever seen in a half elf. Ninety-nine and forty-four one hundredths pure so to speak. Your mother will watch her husband die -- and so will you. At least she will be spared your death, and that of your children, their grandchildren and their grandchildren. It has been far more difficult than I imagined."

She unlocked her car with the key, and then leaned across and opened Bridgette's door. Bridgette sat down and her aunt got them going. The night stayed dark, although there was a street light in the Wallace's back yard.

"Are you hungry? I can stop at a McDonald's or something for a burger, fries and a coke. I'd rather not eat in. You forget to change back into your clothes."

"Jotan didn't give them back. He gave me a souvenir -- evidently he wanted me to stay covered up."

"A what?"

Bridgette slid her sleeve up, revealing the mail. Her aunt's breath sucked away.

"When we get to my place, I'll show you how to place a glamour on it."

"What's that? Something magic if I remember."

"Something magic. You'll make it look like something else."

She seemed to choose her next words carefully. "I was going to explain my problem first. Now, I think I should hear why a dwarf would give a gift like that to a teenager. And make no mistake -- he knew exactly what you were when he took you."

Bridgette explained as best she could. They were nearly at her aunt's place in Salem before she finished. "I'm sorry, Aunt Eleni. I know it sounds like I was just blowing my own horn..."

"Do you remember the line in the second Lord of the Rings movie -- towards the start? 'Not lightly do the leaves of Lothlorien fall.' Trust me, to get a dwarf to part with a single sliver of mithrail takes 'not lightly' to an entirely new level.

"You befriended the king of the dwarves -- and met his queen. Until now, no man even knew she existed, except for Princess Ilona. You befriend the royal families of Gondor and Rohan -- not just the kings, but the families as well. And South Ithil. You faced a traitorous prince, rogue knights, rescued princesses, stopped a rapist, discomfited the Nazgul -- and destroyed two of the nine great rings of men. It's too bad Tolkien isn't still with us -- you'd have fascinated him with your stories. As I did."