The first thing Krys noticed when she woke up was the voices. Light, musical voices. Then came the pain. Sharp pain shot through her stomach, twisting her face into a grimace. She almost let out a groan until she remembered – noises make the pain worse. The voices got louder, more excited. Someone hushed them and then one voice spoke clearly, "Child, can you hear me?" Krys hesitated for just a moment before nodding. Moving hurt, but not answering would be a bad mistake.
"Open your eyes Child." Krys forced her eyes open, struggling to obey. The voice didn't sound angry, or like it was going to hurt her, but then her father used to sound nice. The moment she opened her eyes she immediately shut them again. The light was painful, but mindful of her father's lessons she opened them again before exhaling sharply through her teeth. Voices talked in a language she didn't understand before the light in the room dimmed. Krys blinked as her eyesight sharpened and adjusted. She was surrounded by four people, but they were strange. They were all tall with dark hair and pointed ears. One of them was a female and the others were male. Two of them looked exactly the same. 'Twins,' she thought.
The tallest one stared at her for a second then, as if making a decision, said, "Hello, Child, my name is Lord Elrond." Krys stared at him with wide eyes. 'Lord? I didn't think there were lords in America.' Elrond continued, "These are my sons Elrohir and Elladan," he said motioning to the twins, who bowed, "and my daughter Arwen," he motioned to the female who curtsied. He paused for a moment, taking in Krys's awed expression. She thought they were all gorgeous and she felt wholly inadequate when compared to them.
"Would you tell us your name Child?" Krys stared for a second, opened her mouth then closed it and looked down. Krys was confused. Her father had punished when she spoke and when she didn't reply. Then one of the brothers spoke up, giving her the answer she needed, "Maybe the girl is mute?" Krys looked at him, startled, then thought to herself. 'If they think I can't talk then maybe I won't be punished if I answer silently, in head shakes and nods?' Krys personally thought it was a long shot, but she was willing to try anything. She looked down and forced a blush onto her face.
"I think you may be right Elladan," replied Elrond and then turned to Krys, "My child, there is nothing for you to be ashamed of," he said lifting her chin, "After all, I'm sure it's not your fault you can't speak." Krys looked at him intensely, looking for signs he was trying to lure her into a false sense of security, but found none. Slowly she nodded. Elrond smiled, "Right then, child," he said, "Can you read and write?" Krys nodded. "Good, we shall get you a bath and Arwen can help you find something suitable to wear. Then I'm sure she can escort you to my study, we shall find out your name there." Another nod.
The bath felt good. She scrubbed dirt and grime from her skin and hair, being careful of recent scars. The water turned black. After she got out, Arwen was waiting with a white dress with gold embroidery. As soon as Arwen turned around to greet her from the window she was looking out, she gave a small gasp. Krys cocked her head to the side. Arwen pointed to her own hair, looking confused now. Krys walked over to the mirror and smiled widely. The hair dye she had been using to cover the streaks in her hair had finally washed out after six weeks of trying.
Arwen took one look at her face when the young girl turned around and decided she could live with strange hair if it made the girl this happy. She presented the dress to Krys and helped her into it. Then, as her father had ordered escorted the girl to his private study. Walking in, Krys was amazed. Hundreds of books, maybe thousands, covered the walls of the room. Large, magnificent windows let in huge amounts of light, causing the place to almost sparkle. Elrond, watching her from his desk, chuckled at the awe on her face. She turned at the noise, taking a step back. Two other people were with him, an old man with a grey beard and a young man who looked rather dirty. Elrond stood. "Child this is Gandalf the Grey and Estel. Gandalf is an Istar, Estel is my adopted son." Both stood up to greet her, but she took a step back, terror filled eyes trained on Estel. "Child?" Elrond took a step towards her. Her eyes snapped to him and she calmed down. She bowed her head in apology towards Estel. 'Stupid!' she thought to herself, 'Your going to get yourself beaten, then where will you be?'
"None taken, milady," replied Estel. He looked thrown at what had just occurred. "Well, let's get started then shall we?" Gandalf's voice was as grandfatherly as he looked. "Yes," replied Elrond, looking shaken himself. He motioned for Krys to sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk and Arwen took one between her and the men. The Elrond handed her a feather and asked her to write her name. Using the inkwell Elrond placed beside her she carefully worked out how to use the quill and managed to write in rather large letters Krysanthe Alera Valari Amethyst McRae. "Pretty," remarked Arwen from beside her. Elrond nodded. She then continued and wrote Krys underneath. "Krys? Very well, if that's what you prefer, that's what you will be called," Responded Elrond, "and you may live here for the time being, until you feel ready to leave." Krys looked at him, eyes wide. Then a smile blossomed on her face, then it developed into a full-fledged grin. Elrond smiled, he was sure the young girl would be the centre of everyone's hearts but the time she left. Then he noticed something, "What happened to your hair, Child?"
Hihi people, great to see you again. Kk, for any of you who don't read WMP, I have been in hospital for the last month or so, first for surgery, now for Physiotherapy, which isn't going well I'm afraid. I almost had this chapter finished so I got my friend Alex to finish typing it up and putting it up, which is funny since she's a bit of a technophobe, so big thanks to her. Kk, reviews…
MiniFruitBat – Actually, judging from my stories it's possible to say that my mind has a liking for these sorts of things, you know the hero/ine rising above a jaded past into happiness sort of thing. I just obey my mind, insane though it may be.