More Tharash! There are some italics in this chapter which I have not added yet. Will deal with that later.

(Chapter 2)

Chapter 3

Illinia turned this way and that, trying to see all the people talking. “Valiensin!”
The tall elf paddled after her through the rift, grinning. “Sorry, lassie, my own conscience just couldn’t let you run off into the unknown like that. I’ll see you to land.”
“Valiensin?” said the strange man on the raft. “What kind of fool name is Valiensin, Flairé?”
Valiensin gave the man an unimpressed look. “It’s my name in that world, Tharash. Why don’t you introduce yourself to the young lady, now.”
The wizard flicked a hand dismissively. “For all you know, she’s one of the ones messing with my rifts!”
Valiensin snorted. “Are you kidding me? She is totally not, and you’re the one leaving your rifts open all over the place. That’s how I keep getting around, you know.”
Tharash grimaced. “I leave them open on purpose for you, silly elf. I’m afraid you shan’t be getting back to the Adhemlenei by this one. This isn’t the one you came through.”
Valiensin’s eyebrows shot up towards his hairline, and Illinia felt obliged to intervene.
“E-excuse me, s-sir…” she began. “I-I’ve never messed with any rifts. Valiensin is the name he gave me… I’m from Taur-nu-Fuin, in Middle Earth. I don’t know anything about rifts. I’m just looking for my husband… Mithlas. Have you seen him? He is tall, with long golden hair…”
The wizard shook his head. “I haven’t seen anyone of that description. But if I do, I’ll see if I can rift him to where you are, yes?”
“So you’ll let up on her, then?”
Tharash nodded carelessly. “Naturally. She’s all right. And tell, me, Miss Illinia, if you come across any dark-clothed men meddling with my rifts… throw a couple spells their way for me, would you?”
“S-spells? What do you mean?”
“You know… like… magic?”
She shook her head in confusion. “I have no magic… Valiensin has some illusions, but that is not the same…”
Tharash sighed. “You’re heading to Elberron and you don’t have any magic? I can feel you have magic! Look, hang on just a minute and let me deal with this rift.”
“Take your time,” Valiensin said, putting his hands behind his head casually. “Illinia, you’re going to have to put up with both of us for a little while. You’re going to need it!”
She covered her face with her hands. “I-I’m so sorry. I thought I was competent… I travelled from Taur-nu-Fuin to Minas Tirith without running into too much trouble…”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid you were probably lucky. Also, this world operates on slightly different rules, which you’d best learn with our help. Ooh, watch what he’s doing! This is always cool.”
“C-cool…?”
It was certainly nothing to do with temperature, whatever he meant. Tharash was making quick gestures with his hands, and the air was swirling like boiling water. The opening to the world of Middle Earth was closing, like the mouth of a bag being closed with drawstrings. It closed slower and slower, but at last the last flakes of reality snapped into place and there was nothing to be seen but the same sky; no sign of the tropical blue of the other world.
Illinia’s mouth hung open. “What- what happened? How do you do that?”
“Simple, my dear,” said the wizard-mage, turning to her with a flourish. “I am a Wayrifter.” And the hem of his cloak hit him in the face.
Valiensin chuckled. “Look, Tharash kiddo, why don’t you come over to my boat? It’s a lot more stable than that raft of yours, and faster, too.”
“What do you have against my raft?” Tharash sniffed.
Valiensin shrugged. “Oh, nothing, just that it looks like you grabbed it out of some random rift. Probably from some random trees that aren’t really suited for turning into a raft. And I’m sure you only called it after you stepped through this oversized rift and fell in the ocean. And-“
“All right, enough! I’ll come over.”
“He doesn’t like getting criticized in front of pretty girls,” Valiensin whispered conspiratorially to Illinia, who blushed deeply. “There’s nothing really wrong with his raft. I’m just teasing him.” He turned to Tharash. “Right, Thar?”
Tharash rolled his eyes, settling himself in Valiensin’s boat. “As long as I get to tease you back, Flairé, we’ll be all right. Now, where to?”
“Elberron?”
“Yes, but where in Elberron?”
“E-excuse me…” Illinia chirped up. “What is Elberron?”
“Ah…”
“We’d better start at the beginning,” Valiensin said. “You’ve been here more than I have. Why don’t you fill her in?”
“All right,” said Tharash, pushing back his odd hat before it could get knocked off by Valiensin’s sail. “Where to begin?”
“Wh-what is Elberron? Is it a continent?”
“That’s exactly what it is. It’s inhabited by many different creatures. Some of them are good! Most of them are bad.”
“From your point of view,” Valiensin put in. “I’d say the balance is about equal.”
Tharash glared. “Who’s telling this?”
“Go on, then!”
The mage continued. “Most of the sentient creatures live in settlements of some kind, although there is very little central organization. It’s fascinating to study them – did you know that Gnomes all worship music?”
“What are Gnomes?” Illinia asked innocently.
Tharash facepalmed.
“Go slowly, Tharash!” Valiensin chided. “Don’t facepalm until she asks what the moon is.”
“I know what that is,” Illinia said, just as innocently. “Ithil, Rana the Wanderer, Tilion. We sing songs to him all the time!”
“You sing songs to the moon?” Tharash asked eagerly. “Now tell me, do you worship it? Why do you call it a ‘him’? How many names do you have-“
Valiensin rolled his eyes and mouthed something at her.
“Ah-!” Illinia flailed verbally. “M-may I tell you about that when I am not trying to follow you physically and mentally?”
Tharash settled back. “Ah, yes, of course. Now… about magic. Pretty sure you have some! You practically smell like it. You just need training.”
She looked confused. “In Middle Earth, we don’t have… magic. Perhaps we are more spiritually connected, more ethereally inclined than other races, but we cannot use magic as they think we can… We can have or cause visions… we can invite the plants to grow and the rains to come… The greatest among us can do marvellous things, but they are not… for instance… fireballs.” She frowned. “We do have a wonderful skill of camouflage, in general, and one thing the Noldor did was to create many magic rings… Those are certainly magic. It’s said that some can cause invisibility! But most have a spiritual effect rather than a visual effect.”
“Fascinating,” Tharash murmured to himself. When she looked up, he was scribbling in a book. Valiensin poked him. “Oh, ah, what? Ah, yes, here we have a bit more of that… non-spiritual magic. Perhaps your abilities will be more nature-inclined, but I’m willing to bet my hat that you have powers you never even dreamed of. And I’ll teach you how to use them!”
“And I’ll teach you not to stare wide-eyed into danger!” Valiensin offered.
“Why should I not?” Illinia offered. “It’s one way to disarm it.”
Valiensin’s mouth fell open at this candid admission, and then he threw back his head and laughed. Tharash just looked confused.
“But – but I am also very shy!” she tried to amend her statement, to stop Valiensin from laughing at her.
He shook his head, still chuckling. “You are rather perceptive! But do you charm the spiders in your forest that way? Because you will meet some creatures that are intelligent but who don’t care two leaves for your sweet innocent adorable naivety. It’s true! So I’ll help you out that way.”
She bowed her head. “You are both so kind to me.”
“Don’t mention it,” Valiensin said reflexively.
“It’s his fault,” Tharash said, pointing at Valiensin, who poked him back. It turned into a shoving match between the two men, which ended with Tharash pulled a rolled up newspaper from a quick rift and smacked Valiensin in the head with it. The elf practically split his sides laughing, but Illinia noted that his course was straight as an arrow and did her best to follow.

And so, she came to the land of Elberron, and Valiensin helped her grow in martial artistry in ways she had never known, and Tharash unlocked in her the secret of magic. But only after he himself figured out how it worked in this world, which seemed to involve a lot of explosions, and once Valiensin was transformed into the cutest little black bunny Illinia had ever seen. By accident. They wandered aimlessly through the land at first, although Tharash frequently left through rifts. But he always came back to his eager pupil.
He taught her to control the motions of plants; taught her to conjure water; taught her simple healing spells – the new possibilities of that world made Illinia’s head spin. Valiensin honed her knife skills, and even taught her some basics with a sword. He said her knife would not be enough protection against some things that would prey upon her.
And indeed, one night Valiensin and Illinia were attacked by a small band of goblins. Valiensin was on his feet in a moment, sword drawn and keen and unhesitating in the dark.
Illinia, though her eyesight was even better than Valiensin’s in the dark, tried to defend herself with her knife – but the goblins were using lances. She would have been soon slain if Valiensin had not defended her for enough time to draw her sword.
When the battle was over, she was shaking with adrenaline, fear, and exhaustion – the sword was much heavier than the knife, although it was still elven-light. It was also harder for her to use. The goblins had not been very fierce, but they had been too many for her on her own.
Valiensin patted her on the head, then pulled her close and held her until she stopped shaking.
And then she heard a tiny whimpering sound. What could it be? She went looking for it. Valiensin had heard it too, and followed her curiously.
It was an adult hawk, its wing torn by a goblin’s arrow. It fluttered uselessly as she bent over it, making weak hissing sounds.
“Shhh, shhh,” she soothed. “I won’t hurt you. Come with me…”
It snapped at her with its sharp beak, and she drew back. “It’s all right! I want to help you. Let me see your wounds.”
Exhausted, the hawk collapsed, no longer caring what she did, and she lifted it gently and took it back to the camp.
“What’s that?” Valiensin asked. “A hawk? A good choice for a pet…”
“A pet? A hawk is not a pet… If a hawk travels with a person as a companion…”
“Well, same thing, yes?”
“If I used your words, I would be your pet!”
“Aren’t you?” His face was grave, but his eyes were twinkling, and Illinia couldn’t help but giggle.
The hawk was healed by her new magic, and flopped around a little, testing its wing.
Then it turned to her and looked so intelligently at her, but in a way that made it very clear it was asking for something, asking with the innocence of a small child.
“Oh, you are hungry?” she asked.
“Ha!” Valiensin laughed from the other side of the fire. “I see this one has its ways. Good for you!”
“What is your name?” she asked as it pecked at the remains of the turkey they had eaten for dinner.
It raised its head and looked at her. Her eyes shone as she gazed back at it, and in her mind, she could feel some change happening. There was a connection being formed. Half-frightened, half-wondering, she waited.
The hawk did not speak with words, but although she had always had an affinity for creatures, she suddenly felt she could understand everything the hawk wished to say to her. If she wished to see with its eyes, if she wished to request something from it, if it wished to request something of her, there was only the touch of a mind, and the request would be granted. It was like speaking without sound, without motion. It was like unheard music.
“I shall call you Forestfeather,” she said to it, and it ruffled its feathers and refolded its wings. It climbed up her dress sleeve to her shoulder, where it promptly went to sleep.
“Aww, you made a friend!” Valiensin cooed. She mock-glared at him, and then almost giggled, because glaring was not in her usual repertoire. She settled down to meditate, hawk on shoulder.
She hadn’t heard anything of her husband yet… and it was discouraging. None of the people in the little towns (who had looked at her and Valiensin with fear and awe – apparently elves simply didn’t grow as tall as he was in this land! Some of them asked if he was half-troll, to which he would double up laughing.) had seen a golden-haired elf.
That elf…

They had met several times at dances after that first meeting, and each time he danced with her. She enjoyed it very much, but as soon as he tried to talk to her, she would flee to her sister. But she noticed that he would try to talk to people about her, and she couldn’t do anything about that.
It was midsummer, and the moon was rising. She was seated in the higher branches of the tree that was her home, watching its silvery light fall on the leaves of the forest. In other trees in the whole area around her, other elves were hidden, watchful.
She listened to the wind, its warm harmonies audible only to her ears and the ears of the other elves, and opened her mouth and sang.
Alone in her tree, her timidity fell from her, and music poured from her throat, echoing among the trees and drifting up to the stars and the round silver moon. The voices of the others rose beside her, lifting her above the mortal plane and into transcendent realms of serene bliss. It filled her senses until she thought she could bear no more…
The next day she had been walking home from the palace, along the deserted path, when she saw him standing by the way.
“I heard you last night,” he said. “You were the caller, yes?”
She flushed.
“It was beautiful. I am greatly in awe of your voice. …Would you stay and talk a while?”
“Ah…” she turned and ran.
“I suppose that would be no, then.”
And he was there the day after! This time he made no attempt to talk, but stepped towards her. Again, she fled. The day after, the same, but she was growing a little more accustomed to his presence.
After a week of this, she was finally bold enough to flirt back with him.
Now when he stepped towards her, she stayed and waited a little. But when he tried to embrace her, again she fled.
Now this was a new variation on a theme – when he came towards her, she would wait a little longer each time, until her nerve for teasing gave out and she must vanish or die.
Then the day came when his arms gently closed around her. She looked up into his eyes from under her eyelashes, her palms against his chest – and again, she slipped away and ran.
“Ha!” with a shout, he was after her. He had not done this before! But she led him a merry chase, across log and dell, through ancient trees and young ones, galloping and half-flying along her way, and he after.
She lost track of time and place and reason, just delighting fully and with her entire body and soul in the joy of speed and wind and exertion.
Then – he was there ahead of her! He had judged her path and taken a shortcut! She was too slow to stop herself and careened into his arms. He stood firm as she plowed into him, and as she laughed breathlessly, held her more and more tightly, as if clasping a precious treasure that could not be let go or else it would disappear – which was perhaps close enough to the truth.
And he bent his shining head and kissed her full on the mouth, and Esgalwen was caught in the moment – the sun warming the clearing around them, embracing them both in light and warmth… she drifted away, aware of nothing more than his mouth pressing against hers, the sounds of his breath and the way his body shifted against hers, the almost inaudible murmurs he made as he shifted…
She was floating in a dream, where time did not exist, where nothing but love and longing and the most intense adoration lived…
Their lips parted, and she looked up at him so adoringly – and then her smile turned mischievous, and again she slipped from his arms! But this time he was ready for her, and captured her hand in his, and they ran through the forest together, rejoicing together in their strength and skill and speed.

Chapter 4