Lord of the Rings: The Heir to Lorien

Mithrandir--Corrected version thanks to Google

I re-did this in Google docs and it came out as it should--no missing text!! Don't know if I will have to keep doing this, but it's a thought. If wattpad has left out chunks of your text, try putting it in Google before you cut and paste it.

The bell for the mid-day meal rang. Celebriel dropped the cloak she held and realized she had not given herself time to change—an ironclad rule that Celebrian insisted upon. "No unsuitable clothing when you come to meals. You wear a decent gown, and your hair brushed and braided."

"Even mother did not impose that on me, sister," she said out loud as she folded the cloak and replaced it back in the coffer. "I will not go hungry just because you think I would disgrace your table." She knew a better place to seek a meal.

She slipped down the stairs unnoticed and sought the kitchens. Here, she knew, she would not be turned away, in spite of the fact that she was the sister of the Lady Celebrian. She had learned to seek refuge in kitchens of Lorinand, enjoying the company of those who treated her as simply Celebriel, and not a princess of the Noldor.

Servers were coming and going, bearing the roasts, breads, and other staples found at Elrond's table. The smell of roast venison was making her hungry and she longed for a tankard of wine. She slipped into the kitchens, knowing that the elves who served Imladris kept as good as they sent to the tables.

"Look where the miscreant has sought refuge," one of the elves said, "Are you in disgrace and barred from Master Elrond's table?" He began to fill a plate, heaping it with food and handed it to her. "You are in luck, as soon as the steward returns, he goes to the cellars to find us a bottle of wine, one that just came from Thranduil's kingdom in the North."

She took the plate eagerly, "Alas, I have committed the sin of neglecting to change my clothes. I hoped that I might find better company here; you gave me such a generous breakfast this morning that I have returned for more."

The elves laughed. They did not yet know the ways of this strange girl with her mane of red hair, but she was friendly and addressed them all in a courteous manner. She also had the healthy appetite of the young and returned her plate for a refill when she finished.

"Ah, he comes," cried one of the elves, "Master Steward, what delicacy do you have for us?"

The elf in question held up two bottles, "I am assured that these come from the cellars of Thranduil, himself, worthy of Elrond's table, but no less worthy of ours, I think." His eyes fell upon Celebriel, then he stammered, "But..."

"But you're going to fill our cups now, are you not? I am curious to find out if Thranduil's wine is as good as that I drank in Lorien." She held up her cup, "If you please?"

Clearly relieved, he filled her glass first, then the cups of the various elves who wished to imbibe the stolen delicacy. As they drank and ate, their tongues, if hindered at all by Celebriel's presence, began to loosen. The latest gossip and comings and goings began to fill the room.

This was the best place, she knew, of discovering the goings on of the house and the surrounding area. Even in the kitchen, the elves knew of any talk of travelers who would be arriving in Imladris, where they came from, where they were going to. They also, curiously, knew of the affairs of the family, and the disgrace she would face for being absent from the meal, but she didn't care.

What did spark her interest was the name "Mithrandir" and the imminent news of his arrival at Elrond's house. Was this the same Mithrandir who had appeared to her so mysteriously in the woods this morning? Just who was he, anyway? And what relation did he bear to her mother that he would inform her of her welfare? Was he someone Elrond was acquainted with?