Hello, Fan-fictioners! If you have come to explore the start of Rain's sequel, The Trust That No One Wants, then unfortunately, you've come at a bad time. This segment of Rain's story is currently under construction. Soon, other chapters will be uploaded and the story continued! Thank you for reading!
The Pain That No One Knows 1
The pub was dim, light only coming from the few sparse candles placed around on empty tables, and they flickered with each coming and going of customers. Twin lanterns hung from opposite slats of the front doorway, swaying eerily from the constant opening and closing of the door.
Wooden chairs squeaked and scraped across the rotten floors, and every now and then a table rattled and shuffled around by some argument and such. The bartender often yelled to his workers, busty waitress-maidens in dresses and corsets a few sizes too small, as they bustled about minding their P's and Q's. Every now and then a rowdy patron smacked the behinds of those helpless employees, laughing and causing trouble for all in the crowded joint.
This was the environment I was reduced to, my quivering informant budging no further than to meet in this decaying tavern.
"I-I-I-I..." He stuttered. "I-I w-want p-p-payment first-t." He shivered and shook so hard his fake spectacles slipped off his nose several times during the pronunciation of that one sentence and he shuffled with them for some time afterwords.
"You'll get your payment after I learn something useful." I refused, watching his eyes harden from behind the shadow of my cloak's hood. "Has Morohtar reappeared?"
He ran a nail-bitten hand through his greasy brown hair and his teeth started chattering. Despite his double-layered, black-with-gold-embroidery cloak, he seemed awfully... chilly.
"T-T-That, I c-c-can't say." His stuttering suddenly became a lot more annoying. "I-I-I-I-"
"Why not?" I silenced him, catching the way his eyes seemed to be flickering everywhere but me. To a brimming bar-maid, out the stained window to my right, to my pale fingers drumming impatiently on the table-top, and finally daring to venture close to my face-concealed by darkness. Was he... looking for an escape?
"Why not?" I repeated myself, making sure the steel in my voice was enough to make him snivel.
"I-I-I-I..." He trailed off. "I-I-I don't know if he's back!" Finally, some courage slipped from his posture as he suddenly grew angry. But as pleasing as it was to see scum grow a backbone, I found myself infuriated at his advance. I shot upward, sliding back the chair as I stood, and stalked away towards the exit.
"W-W-Wait!" I stopped and listened, but didn't bother to turn back. "I-I-I-I know who would though. An elven chap- in Rivendell! Th-Th-They called him El-El-Elrond!"
The stuttering fool grabbed my arm. "Now give me my money!"
I shoved him backwards, sending him sprawling over the table and completely silencing the entire tavern. "I promised you money for information I didn't already know! I owe you nothing!"
With that, I left him there stuttering and attempting to restore peace to the bustling joint and slipped out into the quiet street.
"Oh, Ohtar." I mumbled some time later, leaning against the oak of her stall. She merely whinnied in response, shuffling her hooves across the stone stall floor. Even though she couldn't talk back, she often gave interesting responses to my outspoken thoughts. "It looks like I'll have to go to Rivendell after all."
She snorted and pawed the ground, grinding some grain between her teeth.
"I'll have to face Elrond again." That earned me a louder huff, reminding me that she had suggested that option in the first place. The corner of my mouth turned upwards and I leaned my head against the post at the entrance to her stall. My left boot came upwards too, resting the rugged leather next to my knee.
"Although, it would be nice to see some semblance of home before the end."
I let the thought hang, gaining no reaction from my beloved horse, excepting the crunching of oats. Moonlight streamed through a small, upper opening, making Ohtar's mane and coat gleam a dazzling silver. That reason alone caused much debate within me over her name. I had considered Ithil, or moon over Ohtar. But the former was ruled out for two reasons: one, it had too many i's for me to deem it likeable and two, the moon fluctuates from the sky, never really staying true. I needed a stable, constant companion in my life -other than my shadow of a younger brother- with a faithful heart. Ohtar, or in my Elven, native tongue, Warrior, proved over the centuries later to be the better choice, as she showed she had a warrior's heart.
A chilling city breeze blew through the stable through the opening, ruffling my hair and making it sway around my hidden, but developed chest. I hid this feminine quality well, having no other choice if I wanted the average person to respect me. A woman, much less an elven woman, was rarely seen on her own and was so discouraged that rare didn't explain how un-often it actually happened. Whether by luck, or exaggeration of how developed I really was, I passed as enough of a male figure to sneak around unnoticed by the majority of townspeople. I guessed my inconsistency with staying in populated areas didn't hurt my odds of being noticed. Poor cloth and a variety of weapons also gave the intimidating aura of a Ranger, also helping my guise- as no sensible person would ever think interaction with a ranger as a wise thing.
Suddenly, I shivered. Poor cloth had disguising advantages, but it wasn't very warm. Turning, I left the comfort of my earlier stance and dug through my saddle bags. I was looking for one of my finer pieces of clothing, a brown pullover. Quietly, I slipped off my cloak and tugged the pullover on top of my usual winter wear, replacing my cowl afterwords.
Standing up, a voice from the stable doors shouted to me. "Who do you think you are?! Terrorizing me in from of the lesser people of my city! Did you think I wouldn't seek my revenge? Becoming too scared of a harmless ranger!? I'll show you! Give me my money!"
My former informant brandished a sword, too elaborate to not have been gotten by ill means, and thrashed it around in attempts to look threatening. I ignored him, hoisting my saddlebags onto my obedient horse.
"Hey! Are you listening to me?!"
I climbed on next, after saddling my companion properly, and trotted calmly towards the exit. Convenient for my escape, I had left my hood down, and my real, feminine, facial features were enough to make the coward drop his sword and his jaw. Warrior and I slipped past him, never giving him a second thought and galloped off.
To Rivendell, and to an unknown adventure unlike any other.
