Breaking Down

Disclaimer in first chapter.

A/N: Remember how I said that my muse would dictate how much I wrote? Yeah, well, it turned out that life won that one. A few things popped up and honestly I shouldn't even be writing anything right now I just didn't want the blackout to start without one last update. Hopefully this will hold you until September 20th.



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For the next few days Faith noticed a slight tension between Gandalf and Beriothien. She didn't pay much attention to it, she was still uncomfortable around Rio and those blank-faced looks he was giving her weren't helping any. Faith knew he was sorry and that her severe reaction to him made him sad, but it wasn't her job to be Miss Mary Sunshine. Either Rio would get over it, or he wouldn't. It wasn't her problem.

Judging by the way the other three elves were perking up, they were getting close to the city that had been discussed. Faith was both excited and nervous at the prospect. On the one hand where there was a city there was the chance, slim but hey - a girl could hope, that she might be able to get a bath. Some variation in the whole lembas, porridge, fire-roasted rabbit meal routine would be welcome as well.

On the other hand... a city full of elves? Lots and lots of really pretty, pointy-eared, glowy people gawking at her? Yeah, her ears were kind of pointed now too. But that wasn't something she was thinking about, no sir. Faith had this strange feeling that now that she was somewhat safe and well-fed if she started to think about losing her memories or traveling to an alternate dimension or becoming a freaking elf... well, it would probably involve screaming or crying and she wasn't sure which would be worse.

Faith pulled herself from her musings when she noticed Gandalf getting that look in his eyes. The one that said he knew she was a million miles away and that she was in for a test. Fuck, she griped inwardly. It wasn't like there were real consequences if she didn't do well, she just hated seeing that disappointed-slash-annoyed look on Gandy's face. This particular look said he knew she was smarter than this and would she please pay attention?

Faith got the impression that if Gandy had a catchphrase it would be 'does not suffer fools gladly'.

"Waters," Gandy drilled.

"Waters," she repeated dutifully: "River, pond, stream, sea, um...?"

"Bog," he prodded, shooting a faintly reproving look over his shoulder as they continued to traipse through the woods. Erurainon was just ahead of them, Beriothien and Erubadhron were out scouting and Calminaion was bringing up the rear. There were never fewer than two of the blonde patrol with them, except for bathroom breaks Faith hadn't been alone since Gandy had first found her.

"Bog." Shit, what else? "Swamp! Erm, lake?"

Gandalf nodded and Faith sighed her relief, hoping that they were finished. No such luck, she must've really annoyed him. "Elf," he said, pointing to Eru ahead of them. Immediately, the scout fell back to walk beside Faith as they walked.

"Hair, head, face, ear, nose, mouth, lip, eye?"

"Ears, lips, eyes."

Plurals, I hate plurals. Faith nodded and repeated the correct words. At least I don't have to write this crap down. She sort of enjoyed the lessons, really. They distracted her from what would otherwise be a really boring journey. All she'd seen since she got here was trees, trees, and more trees, broken up by the occasional sudden appearance of a big demon spider.

Faith muttered under her breath, returning to her native language: "I don't even like trees. They're rough and brown and shit lives in 'em..." Her words cut off as, between one second and the next, her party passed some invisible boundary and stepped into a broad clearing. Beyond it, Faith could see several structures that almost blended into the surrounding fauna. She got the feeling that before she had come here her eyes wouldn't have been able to discern the difference between what was naturally-growing wood and what wasn't.

Another new talent that fell under the heading of 'shit she wasn't going to think about'.

Just in front of them was a small group of elves, their hair showing a little more color variation than she'd seen up to now. One of them had brown hair, though it was much lighter and had more red in it than hers. At the front of the group was a very tall elf with black hair and a face so fierce she knew instantly that he was a warrior. Not a scout or soldier like the blondies: a real, honest-to-god, battle-'n-broadswords warrior.

She adored him instantly.



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Gandalf bowed to Thranduil, a gesture that the elvish king returned. Formalities aside, he smiled, "It is good to see you, old friend. Though I would wish it were under better circumstances. It is as you feared."

Thranduil scowled, a dark expression made all the more intimidating by his changeable silver eyes. Mercurial, like his temper, they seemed almost to glow at times. "Sauron," he all but growled, "Is a blight upon this earth and a thorn in my side. Why could he not make his strongholds in the lands of Man?"

"And deprive you of the opportunity to sharpen your sword on his hide? Never."

The king smiled slightly, but his mind was already far away, focused on battle plans and worry for his people. All banter aside, the presence of Sauron's darkness in Dol Guldur was a menace to his lands and a threat to all that lived in the wood. One he would have to deal with sooner or later, and likely at no small cost.

Movement from behind the wizard drew Thranduil's attention, his silver eyes landing on a small hand clutching at Gandalf's gray robes. "What's this, old friend?" His tone grew silky and dangerous, "Have you brought one of your burrowers along for company?"

"I know better than to bring a dwarf to your lands, Thranduil. I found an odd track on my way to you and followed it, and what should I find but an elleth at its end!" The look of blank shock on Thranduil's face prompted a nod from Gandalf, "Yes, she was alone and, so far as I can tell, her people are either long dead or long gone from her. In either case, she is alone."

Erurainon stepped forward. "She speaks a tongue none of us have heard before, strange and rough to our ears. Her name is 'Fay-the', but she has allowed us to call her 'Tiriel'," he smiled wryly, "And gifted us with names in turn."

"Tiriel," Gandalf twisted to look down at the youngling. She looked back up at him with wide, nervous brown eyes. "Tiriel, come. Meet king." The wizard frowned, nonplussed when she buried her face in the loose fabric of his robe and shook her head vigorously.

"She is shy?" Thranduil inquired, voice gentle.

"At times," the wizard answered slowly. "I do not believe that her experiences with her elders was all that it should have been." He exchanged a glance with Erurainon and continued, "Nor do I believe she had ever encountered an elf before her meeting with the Beriothien's patrol." Gandalf turned back to Thranduil, measuring his next words: "I believe she may have more in common with Elrond Peredhel than the people of your fine woods..."

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Faith enjoyed the cool rasp of Gandalf's cloak against her cheeks. This was weird. She could hear him talking to the king-guy over her head. Couldn't pick out more than a couple of words and those didn't really tell her anything about what they were saying.

She'd heard her name, both of 'em, and then Gandy had tried to get her to meet Mister King-Guy, but... she was scared. Faith had wanted to stay with the old dude instead of the elves because she knew him first, she felt more comfortable around him. He was like that crotchety old uncle other kids talked about, the one that bitched about politics and the weather and slipped his nephews and nieces a twenty when their folks weren't looking.

The king-guy though... from the moment she heard his voice something screamed 'safe'. Like he could wrap her up in his arms and nothing bad would ever happen to her again. She didn't trust that feeling. Nothing was safe like that, nothing. Nobody was nice for no reason - there was always an angle and kids like her didn't get to have nice normal mommies or daddies. Those were the facts of life, the tenets that all her knowledge of the world was built on.

So Faith stayed behind Gandy's robes, fists clenched tight to keep her from throwing herself around the old dude and into the king-guy's arms. She wasn't safe, she was never safe, and thinking she could be? That was the biggest lie of all. Never mind that this guy was an elf, and a king, and obviously some sort of general, that just meant that he probably wouldn't have any time for a little nobody like her. So really it wouldn't matter even if she was gonna throw herself into his arms, he probably wouldn't have time for her anyways.

Anti-pep-talk finished, Faith slowly peeled herself off Gandalf's clothes and stepped a little to the side. She gulped hard at the sight of those dangerous silver eyes trained on her, who cared that the face around them was set into gentle lines, she recognized danger when she saw it. This guy screamed it with a capital 'D'.

No wonder she liked him on sight.

"Good day, Tiriel."

She jolted, swallowing around her suddenly dry mouth, "Good day... king?"

He smiled, "Thranduil."

"Thor-an-deel?"

"Thran-DOO-eel."

Faith scowled, she couldn't make a good nickname out of that! Except maybe 'Doo' but the thought of calling him a euphemism for feces, even if he was unaware of the alternate meaning, gave her the wiggins. "Thran-duil. Thranduil," she grinned victoriously as she got it.

Thranduil smiled too and Faith almost cried out. She needed a hug, she needed someone - like hell she did! Her head spun with conflicting feelings and impulses: part of her wanting to relax and trust these people but the rest wanting to run back into the forest and stay there until... until...

Faith hiccupped. Stress, both emotional and physical, rising as inevitably as the tide and overwhelming her small body. Tears rose in her eyes and she blinked furiously to quell them, keeping her head down low to hide her struggles.

Above her, the wizard and the king spoke. She largely ignored them, focused on her own internal war. When Gandalf laid a hand on her shoulder she flinched almost imperceptibly, but followed where he led her. By now almost blind with the force of the pent-up tears.

Gandalf took her to a small room with a bed, she had no idea how they'd gotten there, and stood watching her for a minute. She studied the floor and let her hair shield her tense and red face from view.

"Stay near," was all the wizard said before he left.

Faith threw herself at the bed, buried her face in her pillow, and let her emotions loose.



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A/N2: Faith's finally beginning to crack a bit under the strain, but don't worry! She's resilient! For all you people who assume the worst: NO, this will NOT be a Faith/Thranduil. I hope you enjoyed this further peek into her head. It'll be the last one for a bit...

Like, love, loathe with the fiery intensity of a thousand hot suns? Lemme know!