DEBBIE DOES THE TWO TOWERS

Chapter Four:  A Stranger In Purple

 

A beautiful view of golden, late-afternoon light on the gardens of Rivendell was visible through the windows of Elrond's study, but Elrond was not looking at it. Instead, he was sitting at his desk with his eyes tightly closed, pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off a splitting headache.

He had been trying to convice his daughter that her foolish preference for a mortal was, quite literally, a dead-end situation, but she had merely taken to her room in a pout. Elves always became so difficult around the age of 2900. On top of that, the world was coming to an end--well, this neighborhood, anyhow, precluding the possible success of Frodo, in which Elrond put little stock--and Arwen refused to travel off to the Grey Havens like any sensible elf would. As if that weren't enough, his mother-in-law Galadriel kept popping into his head and declaring the whole mess *his* fault. He let out a deep and lengthy sigh.

So wrapped up in his own thoughts was he that even his elven senses did not detect the presence of another person until a soft, musical voice said in his ear, "I've got some Advil if you want it."

Elrond jumped in a most undignified fashion and glared up at the woman who stood before him. At first he thought she was an elf, until he noticed that she was only of medium height. She was clad in a lacy purple merrywidow, the color of which set off her striking emerald eyes. Her chestnut hair sat high on her head in a loosely piled bun.

Elrond arched a formidable eyebrow at her. "Who are you, and what is this 'Advil' you speak of?" he asked brusquely.

"I'm Debbie," said the young woman as she began rummaging through her shoulderbag. "You're Elrond, I know. Is Arwen giving you trouble? You really should let her marry Aragorn, you know--he's a great guy. And I thought you were a healer. How can you not have Advil?" She withdrew a small white bottle from her bag and shook two tablets into Elrond's hand. "Just take those with some water and your headache will go away in a jiffy."

Elrond followed the maiden's instructions in a daze. Soon his face cleared as the medicine began to take effect. "You know Aragorn?" he asked in a milder tone.

"Oh sure," said Debbie with a satisfied smile. "We go way back."

Elrond's face darkened again. "All the more reason Arwen should stay away from him!" he shouted.

"Easy, you'll give yourself another headache...and what's wrong with Aragorn?"

"He does not have the restraint of an elf!" Elrond scowled.

The woman who called herself Debbie smiled, her eyes going misty. "No, that's for sure...but anyway, he's got a good heart and really loves your daughter and all." Suddenly, her hand went to her forehead.

"Is something wrong?"

"I don't feel so well, Elrond," the vision in purple replied. "I think I'm gonna--"

And then suddenly, she had keeled over, straight into the elf-lord's lap.

********

Debbie's eyes fluttered open and she blinked at her surroundings. They were unfamiliar, and yet somehow familiar at the same time. She realized that she was lying on an exquisitely comfortable bed with a beautifully carved headboard. A warm down comforter in a soft cream color was covering her.

Recognition dawned. "Oooh, it's Frodo's old room!" she squealed aloud. She turned her head and found that the room had one further adornment: Elrond was sitting by her bed and gazing down at her with kindly concern.

He arched an eyebrow in response to her outburst. "How could you possibly know that?"

"I know all about you, and the Fellowship. Here--hand me that bag there, and I'll show you." She pulled herself into a sitting position and extended a dainty finger toward a perfectly square, black bag on the floor.

Curious, Elrond went to the bag. The woman had had it with her when she'd arrived, and he'd brought it into the room in case she needed it. Now, however, he wondered if he'd been foolish in doing so.

"Oh, don't worry, it won't bite," Debbie said with a melodious laugh as he gingerly picked up the bag. "The hobbits call this a 'crystal window,'" she continued as she performed some complex maneuvers on the strange device which she withdrew. "I call it an iBook G4 with solar battery and DVD-Rom drive. Fortunately, I happened to have 'Fellowship of the Ring' in..."

She pressed a few buttons and Elrond gasped in amazement as the window showed him a scene of himself welcoming Frodo a few months before. He looked at Debbie with something like awe. "My lady, I do apologize for not welcoming you more respectfully. Clearly you have skills beyond even the reach of the elves!"

"Oh, don't I ever," she replied, winking at him. "But that's not all it does--look, you can play games on it too. This one's called 'Tetris'...."

********

Later that evening, Debbie sat on a bench under a tree in the cool air and reflected on how she had come to this wonderful world yet again. She remembered the photo shoot, the changing room full of lingerie, and the strange feeling of fragmentation that had come over her with each new outfit, as if a layer of herself had been peeled away. Had each of those moments represented a bit of herself returning to Middle-Earth?

How many of them had there been? She remembered the black silk, the red lace, and the white with faux fur trim before the purple merrywidow. Had the purple one been the last, or were there more? It all seemed so hazy. Perhaps when she had rested, as Elrond advised, she would remember more.

Debbie looked up to see a familiar young female elf with long dark hair standing in front of her.

"Arwen Evenstar!" Debbie exclaimed, delighted. I was wondering when I was going to meet you!"

"I came to see if you were well," Arwen responded, her dark hair shining resplendently in the moonlight. "Actually, my father was going to come, but he seems rather occupied with the 'Tet...tris...of the crystal window' currently. I brought you a cloak."

Debbie stood, taking the voluminous blue-grey velvet cloak from Arwen's outstretched hands. She wrapped it about her body, revelling in its soft folds.

"It's a little too long," Arwen noted sadly. "I'll have to hem it for you."

"You can't be sad like that over a silly cloak," Debbie hedged, sitting down again. "What's eating you?"

Arwen screwed up her nose a little.

"Come on--I think we could be like sisters, you and I," Debbie insinuated. "Or maybe closer. I have a feeling we have someone...er, some*thing* in common." She patted the bench next to her and Arwen took a seat. "Now then," Debbie began, "first, I know all about you and Aragorn, and I'm on your side."

Arwen's eyes filled with tears. "You don't know how good it is to hear that," she sniffled. "Nobody here understands. 'Why don't you marry Figwit?' Daddy keeps saying. 'He's a perfectly nice elf.' Hmph! I didn't see *him* volunteering for the Fellowship. But when Aragorn's away, it's like a part of me is on the other side of middle-earth. You can't imagine how that feels..."

"Oh, I think I can," Debbie replied.

"And now Daddy's talked him into breaking up with me, and I don't think I can *stand* it!" Arwen wailed.

"There there," said Debbie, wrapping her arms around Arwen as the elf princess sobbed damply onto her shoulder. "I've seen Aragorn, you know, and he misses you very much."

Arwen disengaged momentarily from Debbie's embrace. Her eyes narrowed. "You've seen Estel? Dressed like that?"

"Um...no, I wasn't wearing...this. But that's not important anyway. What's important is that he wants you to be happy."

"He said that was why he was leaving me...." Arwen's eyes spilled over with tears again. Debbie silently handed her a kleenex which she produced from her shoulder-bag, and Arwen blew her nose loudly.

"I want to see you two get together," Debbie whispered sympathetically. "So Elrond wants you to marry Figwit, huh? He's that cute elf with the long dark hair who was at the Council, right?"

Arwen nodded with a look of astonishment. "How did you know about--?"

Debbie smiled to herself. "Never mind, I'll explain later. But I think I can start by getting him out of the way for you...."




 

 

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