Chapter 21: Splash of the Eldar
The splash echoed like a dropped anvil in the quiet grotto. One moment, Elrond was kneeling, a pillar of serene authority. The next, Estel’s enthusiastic tug, fueled by pure, unadulterated excitement, yanked the elf-lord completely off balance. He hit the water with a spectacular, graceless splash, robes billowing like storm clouds, vanishing beneath the moonlit surface.
Silence. Then Mahal’s laughter boomed, shaking droplets from the ferns overhead. It was deep, earthy, and utterly delighted, the sound of mountains finding immense amusement. "Ha! Like a startled waterfowl!" He slapped his knee, the sound sharp in the sudden quiet after the splash.
Yavanna covered her mouth, but her eyes crinkled with mirth, a gentle rustle of leaves accompanying her stifled chuckle. "Oh, Estel!"
Brittany’s reaction was pure instinct. Her luminous orange tail, a blur of sunset color, slapped the water’s surface hard. WHUMP! A geyser of silver droplets erupted, catching the moonlight, drenching Orik who stood too close to the edge. "Whoa! Warn a dwarf!" he sputtered, wiping water from his beard, though a grin fought its way through his annoyance. Brittany surfaced, laughing, a sound both musical and slightly feral. "Timber!" she called out, the Marine’s dark humor surfacing.
Elrond emerged. Slowly. His usually impeccable dark hair plastered to his skull, rivulets streaming down his face. His robes clung, heavy and dripping. He blinked, water beading on his long lashes. Not sputtering, not coughing – Elrond Peredhel did not sputter – but radiating profound, ancient, and utterly soaked dignity. He fixed Estel with a look that could have frozen the Bruinen in midsummer.
Estel, still perched on the rock, froze. His small hands flew to his mouth, eyes wide as saucers. "I... I didn't mean... you just... slipped?" The words came out a tiny squeak. He looked desperately at Brittany, the source of warmth and safety moments before.
Brittany was already moving. With a powerful flick of her tail, she surged towards the sputtering lord. "Easy, Pointdexter," she murmured, the NCIS agent slipping out, using the old nickname she’d overheard Gibbs use for the forensic scientist back in another life. Her hand shot out, bracing against Elrond’s shoulder before he could fully regain his equilibrium on the slippery rocks. Her touch was firm, grounding. "Gotcha. Steady on."
Elrond’s gaze snapped to hers, surprise momentarily overriding the damp indignity. The nickname, utterly foreign yet carrying a strange, inexplicable resonance, disarmed him. He allowed her support, pushing wet hair back from his face with a sigh that sounded suspiciously like a grumble. "The enthusiasm of youth," he stated, his voice remarkably level despite the circumstances, "is occasionally... overwhelming."
"Tell me about it," Brittany smirked, her tail fin gently churning the water to keep her position stable. "Got a toddler ambassador trying to climb into my rifle scope once during hostage negotiations. Same energy." She glanced back at Estel. "Kiddo, deep breath. He’s waterproof. Probably." She winked at the terrified boy.
Estel gulped. "I’m really sorry, Lord Elrond," he whispered, tears welling.
Mahal ambled closer to the edge, still chuckling. "The stone holds no grudge for the rain that washes it, lad," he rumbled, his tone softening. "Though perhaps avoid pulling mountains into the bath next time. They tend to displace a lot of water." He nodded towards the displaced volume still sloshing against the rocks.
Yavanna knelt, dipping her hand into the pool near Elrond. Instantly, tiny, glowing water lilies bloomed around his legs, their soft light casting gentle patterns on the wet robes. "The water welcomes all, even those who arrive unexpectedly," she said, her voice soothing as a summer breeze. "It cleanses, refreshes. A minor baptism, perhaps." She offered Elrond a serene smile.
Elrond took another breath, the absurdity of the situation, the genuine concern in Estel’s eyes, and the divine amusement surrounding him finally melting the last of his rigid posture. A faint, rueful smile touched his lips. He looked down at the glowing lilies, then at Brittany’s supporting hand still on his arm, her scales cool and smooth against his skin. He placed his own hand briefly over hers. "Thank you, Brittany. Your reflexes remain... exemplary." He then turned his gaze, now devoid of anger, fully on Estel. "Come, Estel. The water awaits. And this time, perhaps enter it, rather than launching others."
Relief washed over the boy’s face, brighter than the moonlight. He scrambled to the edge, sitting down, then carefully lowered his feet into the cool water. "It’s cold!" he yelped, pulling his toes back instantly.
Brittany snorted. "Told ya. Marine conditioning. Built different." She released Elrond, confident he was steady, and paddled backwards with a sinuous movement of her tail, creating a gentle current. "Slide in slow. I’ve got you. Promise." She held out her arms again, the sniper’s focus entirely on the boy.
Estel took a deep, determined breath and pushed off. He slid into the water with a small splash, immediately flailing. Brittany was there instantly. Her hands closed around his small waist, lifting him slightly so his head stayed well above the surface. "Whoa there, sailor. Easy. Just tread water. Little kicks. Like this." She demonstrated with her free hand. Her tail provided effortless buoyancy for them both.
Estel gasped, eyes wide with the shock of the cold and the sudden immersion. But held securely by Brittany, feeling the surprising strength in her grip and the smooth, cool slide of her scales against his legs, his panic subsided. He mimicked her hand movements, kicking his small feet experimentally. "I’m swimming! Sort of!"
"You’re floating, champ," Brittany corrected, adjusting her hold. "Swimming comes next. Good kicks." She kept her body positioned between him and the deeper water, her senses alert for any current or slip. The moonlight played over the intricate braid at her temple – mithril, sunlight, and living vine – making it gleam like captured starlight against her wet skin.
Elrond watched, wading carefully closer, the water now waist-high on him. His soaked robes trailed like dark seaweed. The earlier shock had faded completely, replaced by a profound sense of… peace. Seeing the fierce warrior, newly claimed by the divine, holding his terrified foster son with such instinctive, protective gentleness was a balm to his ancient soul. It echoed the comfort she’d offered him moments before, solidifying the unspoken kinship they shared. He stopped a few feet away, content to observe.
Orik, having wrung out the hem of his tunic, settled back against his fern column. "Never a dull moment with that one," he muttered to Mahal, gesturing towards Brittany with his chin. "Goes from stitching up gut wounds to babysitting ankle-biters in a magical bathtub. Multitasker."
Mahal’s molten gaze followed Brittany as she gently guided Estel in a slow circle. "A craftsman adapts her tools to the task," he rumbled approvingly. "She uses her strength for shelter. Worthy." He glanced at Yavanna. "The water accepts them both."
Yavanna nodded, her eyes soft. "The roots and the river find common ground. The child trusts the deep currents within her." She smiled as Estel let out a giggle, kicking harder and splashing Brittany lightly. Brittany responded by dipping him momentarily lower, making him shriek with laughter before pulling him back up.
"See?" Brittany grinned, water sparkling on her eyelashes. "Not so scary when you’ve got backup."
Estel beamed up at her, all fear forgotten. "Can we go deeper? Please? Just a little? I want to see your shiny tail better!"
Brittany looked towards Elrond. The elf-lord met her gaze. He saw no recklessness there, only the calm assessment of a protector gauging risk. He saw the way the boy clung to her, trusting her utterly. He gave a single, slow nod of consent.
"Alright, little man," Brittany said, her voice dropping into a tone Estel instinctively recognized as serious. "Rules. You hold my shoulders, tight. Don’t let go. I’ll take a breath, we go under for just a few seconds, then straight back up. Got it?"
Estel nodded vigorously, scrambling to grip her shoulders, his small fingers digging in. "Got it! Tight!"
Brittany took a deep, deliberate breath, the gills along her sides flaring subtly beneath the waterline – a secret motion only Elrond’s keen eyes might notice. "Deep breath, Estel. Fill your lungs." Estel sucked in a huge gulp of air, puffing out his cheeks comically. Brittany met Elrond’s watchful gaze one last time, a silent promise passing between them. I’ve got him.
Then, with a powerful, fluid undulation of her luminous orange tail, she dipped beneath the moonlit surface, pulling Estel down with her into the silvery, silent world below.
The cool water closed over Estel’s head, a sudden, shocking silence replacing the splash and laughter above. Panic flared instantly in his small chest, a frantic urge to thrash, to scream, to breathe. His hands clenched convulsively on Brittany’s shoulders, nails digging into her skin.
Brittany felt the tremor of fear through his tiny frame, a vibration against her palms. She held him steady, her own movements deliberate and unhurried. "Eyes open, kid," her voice resonated strangely clear in the water, calm command cutting through his terror. "Look."
He obeyed, blinking against the sting. Silver moonlight filtered down, fractured and dancing, illuminating particles that drifted like constellations. The world below was a cathedral of rippling light and profound quiet, utterly alien, breathtaking. His frantic kicking slowed, replaced by wide-eyed wonder. Below them, the pool plunged into velvet darkness, but around them, the water shimmered.
Then he saw it. Below the waist, where legs should have been, Brittany’s form dissolved into pure, radiant motion. Her tail wasn't just orange; it was alive. Scales the color of molten sunset and deepest coral caught the fractured light, shifting, iridescent. Each powerful, sinuous stroke sent shimmering trails through the water, propelling them effortlessly. It wasn't merely functional; it was mesmerizing art in motion, a silent ballet of muscle and light. Estel’s mouth formed a perfect 'O' of pure, unadulterated awe.
"Pretty cool, huh?" Brittany murmured, the water carrying her voice with an intimate clarity. She rotated slowly, letting him see the full sweep, the delicate fins at the tip catching the light like stained glass. "Granddad’s side of the family. Bit flashier than pointy ears." Her tone was casual, almost dismissive, belying the raw power coiled in that undulating muscle. It felt strangely vulnerable, showing this hidden part of herself, even to a child. Elrond knowing was one thing; this wide-eyed acceptance was different.
Estel, momentarily forgetting he couldn’t speak underwater, tried to blurt something out. Bubbles streamed from his lips in a frantic silver rush. He pointed desperately at the tail, then at her face, eyes shining brighter than the moonbeams.
Brittany chuckled, the sound vibrating the water around them. "Save the questions for air, champ. Ready to see how fast?" She didn’t wait for an answer he couldn’t give. With a powerful flick of her tail that felt like a controlled explosion, they shot forward. Not towards the terrifying depths, but parallel to the surface, skimming just below it like a pair of sleek otters.
Estel gasped soundlessly, clinging tight, exhilaration replacing wonder. The world blurred into streaks of silver and shadow, the water rushing past with a pressure that pressed his cheeks back. Rocks and submerged roots became fleeting impressions. He felt the sheer, contained strength in her movement, the absolute control. It wasn’t scary anymore; it was pure, thrilling speed. He laughed, bubbles cascading upwards like joyful fireworks.
Above, the surface tension broke. Elrond watched the twin trails of bubbles streaking across the pool, his anxiety easing into profound relief. Seeing Estel’s face, a pale blur beneath the surface, wasn't terrified but ecstatic, was a gift. Mahal nodded slowly, a low rumble escaping him. "Swift as a mountain stream carving stone." Yavanna simply smiled, tendrils of water plants swaying gently towards the passing wake below.
Brittany angled them upwards, breaking the surface near the center of the pool in a spray of moonlit droplets. Estel exploded into sound the moment his face cleared the water. "WOW! That was AMAZING! You're like a... a... fish-rocket! And your tail! It GLOWS! Can I touch it? Can we go again? FASTER?" He was vibrating, dripping, utterly transformed from the scared child moments ago.
She grinned, treading water easily, keeping a secure arm around him. "Whoa, turbo. One miracle at a time. Breathing is good." She tapped his nose gently. "And yeah, it kinda glows when I move fast. Like bioluminescent plankton. Cool party trick." She glanced towards the shore, catching Elrond’s relieved gaze. "Told ya he was waterproof."
Estel beamed, then suddenly remembered his earlier transgression. His enthusiasm dimmed slightly. He looked sheepishly at Elrond. "Lord Elrond? Are you... still mad? About... the pulling?"
Elrond waded closer, the water smoothing his damp robes. His expression was serene, the earlier indignity washed away. "The water has cooled any lingering irritation, Estel. Seeing you conquer fear brings only warmth. And," he added, a subtle glint in his eyes as he looked at Brittany, "witnessing such unique locomotion is... educational."
"Educational," Brittany snorted, shifting her grip on Estel. "Right. More like showing off for the kid. Works every time." She felt the cool water against her skin, the effortless buoyancy, the lingering pulse of Estel’s joyful adrenaline against her side. It was a startlingly simple moment of connection, starkly different from the isolation of a sniper's perch or the sterile intensity of an operating room. Here, submerged in moonlight and magic, holding a trusting child, the old wound of Gibbs's abandonment throbbed less acutely. This world, bizarre and demanding, offered unexpected anchors. She flicked her tail, sending a playful splash towards Orik. "Alright, landlubber. Your turn for a dunk?"
Orik recoiled, spluttering as the spray hit his beard. "Keep your soggy tricks to yourself, lass!" He backed up another step, boots scraping on wet stone. "Once was enough for this dwarf, thank you very much. Prefer my ale internal."
Brittany grinned, treading water easily, Estel still clinging to her shoulders like a limpet. "Chicken," she teased, her tail flicking lazily beneath the surface.
Brittany’s grin widened as Orik backed up. "Chicken," she repeated, sing-song, her tail fin breaching the surface with a deliberate, teasing splash that barely missed him. Estel giggled, still clinging to her shoulders. "Do it, Master Orik! It’s fun!"
Orik’s beard bristled, his eyes narrowing beneath bushy brows. "Fun? Fun is a dry forge and a full tankard, lass!" He stomped one boot for emphasis on the slick stone. "Not freezing yer blasted bits off in elf-water!" He crossed his thick arms, radiating stubborn defiance, a mountain refusing to erode.
Then, a glint sparked in his deep-set eyes. A slow, mischievous grin spread across his weathered face, crinkling the corners. "But payback..." he rumbled, the word low and promising. He took two deliberate steps back, gathering momentum. "Well, payback’s a bitch." He tensed, muscles bunching under his tunic. "Cover yer heads!"
Before anyone could react, before Elrond could raise a placating hand or Brittany could dive deeper, Orik launched. Not a jump. A declaration of war. He tucked his knees to his chest, becoming a compact ball of dwarf, chainmail, and pure, unadulterated kinetic energy. He soared through the air for a brief, weightless second, silhouetted against the moon.
He hit the water like a meteor strike.
KER-SPLOOOOOSH!
The impact was seismic. A wall of water, cold and furious, exploded outwards in a perfect, drenching dome. It crashed over Elrond, who had just wrung out his robes, plastering the dark silk to him anew. It surged over Mahal, beading on his stony skin like rain on granite, drawing another surprised rumble from his chest. It drenched Yavanna, whose serene expression flickered with startled amusement as blossoms clung wetly to her hair. It swamped Estel’s head, making him shriek-laugh and sputter. And it crashed over Brittany, momentarily submerging her and the boy in a churning, chaotic whirlpool.
Droplets hung in the air like suspended diamonds in the moonlight, a thousand tiny lenses refracting silver. Brittany surfaced instantly, instinctively shielding Estel, water streaming down her face. Her senses, honed by decades of anticipating threats, had tracked every droplet like incoming tracer fire. She coughed, shaking her head, sending her long blonde hair whipping. "Damn it, Orik! Warn a girl!"
Orik exploded upwards a few feet away, roaring with laughter that echoed off the rocks. Water poured from his beard, his nose, his ears. He slapped the surface triumphantly. "HA! Boom goes the dynamite! Told ya payback was comin'! Who's soggy now, Fish-girl?" He wiped his eyes, still chuckling, the sound rich and earthy amidst the settling water.
Estel clung tighter to Brittany, giggling uncontrollably, thrilled by the chaos. "That was HUGE! Bigger than your splash, Brittany!"
Brittany pushed her wet hair back, fixing Orik with a look that was part exasperation, part reluctant admiration. Her lips twitched despite herself. "Okay, rock-head. Points for style. That was… impressively aquatic." She treaded water, effortlessly keeping Estel aloft. "Aiming for maximum collateral damage, huh? Real subtle."
Elrond stood dripping, a picture of dignified resignation, like a willow enduring a downpour. He sighed, a long, slow exhalation that ruffled the wet hair plastered to his forehead. "Master Orik," he began, his voice calm but laced with a weary edge, "while the enthusiasm is… noted, perhaps consider that Rivendell's laundry facilities are not equipped for geological-scale disruptions."
Mahal, water sheeting off his immense form, let out a low, grinding chuckle that vibrated through the pool. "The stone remembers impact," he observed, a hint of approval beneath his deep tone. He looked pointedly at Orik. "And displacement. That was a worthy splash, my son. Worthy." He gave a single, slow nod.
Yavanna simply extended a hand. Where droplets landed on her palm, tiny, glowing mushrooms sprouted instantly, luminescent caps unfolding like miniature umbrellas. "Water nourishes all," she murmured, her eyes twinkling. "Even boisterous arrivals." She flicked her wrist, sending a shimmer of glowing spores towards Orik.
Orik puffed out his chest, clearly pleased by Mahal’s validation, though he eyed Yavanna's spores warily. "See? Craftsmanship! A proper entrance!" He paddled clumsily, his chainmail dragging him down. "Though… maybe this mail shirt wasn't the wisest choice." He sank a little deeper, only his head and bushy beard remaining buoyant.
Brittany snorted, swimming closer with Estel. "No kidding, genius. Chainmail in a pool? That's a Marine basic training fail right there." She nudged him with her tail. "Need a tow, sinker?"
"Keep yer fishtail to yerself," Orik grumbled, trying to kick more vigorously, succeeding only in making himself bob unevenly. "I got this. Dwarves are… naturally dense. Buoyant!" He sank another inch.
Estel giggled. "You look like a grumpy rock, Master Orik!"
Brittany rolled her eyes, the playful glint returning. She leaned closer to Orik, lowering her voice conspiratorially, though Elrond’s sharp ears likely caught it. "Alright, beard-dragger. You got your splash. But remember," her voice dropped to a silky, dangerous murmur, her smile sharpening, "I know where you sleep. And the Elves have very large water jugs." She flicked her tail again, sending a small, targeted wave that splashed over his face.
Orik sputtered, wiping his eyes. "Ye wouldn't dare!"
Brittany just arched a perfect, challenging eyebrow, her orange tail fin slicing through the moonlit water like a blade. "Try me."