Hi people around the world!

Let's see what's Laura's reaction regarding Idril and Duilin's reaction of her story.

Also in this chapter will be known the lyric of Laura's favorite song and that until now, Lord Glorfindel and she have been rehearsing as an excuse for knowing each other.

Waiting for your reviews, guys!

Chapter 18: Night Thoughts

The Following Night:

Laura was studying the waning Moon: reminded that Coyolxauhqui's glory had once crowned every night. She was surrounded by her faithful soldiers, the Tzentzonahua: her retinue that adorned the sky so she might come with pomp and ceremony to her domain.

To her mind came the story she told the Celebrindal and Lord Duilin the night before. How much power must the Sun god Huitzilopochtli have had to have destroyed the army of the Moon Goddess with a single blow of his terrible mace, scattering them throughout the firmament so that they could never again band together against him? Yes, there were constellations in which stars were grouped together, but there were not many myths about constellations among the Aztecs. That was more common among the Mayans who had been lovers of the stars ... just as the Elves were.

Laura did not understand the attraction the stars exerted on the Elves. The Moon was much more beautiful to her. When she looked on its serene, pale face, she was reminded of the howls of the wolves she had heard on her mission. Enticed out into the forest by their cries, she had make friends with the pack. She would have liked to have stayed longer with them, but if she had, the Facility agents would have killed them. They had already done it with other innocent animals, whose only crime was befriending her. They had been her only friends besides Remmy.

The Facility always, invariably, snatched them in the cruelest way, to prevent her from making bonds with others. It was their way of making her cold, indifferent to what she felt and thought, being able to hurt herself: they had given her the bittersweet gift of loneliness. Yes, bittersweet, because over time she had become so accustomed to it that she preferred being alone over being in the company of others. And it was not difficult to achieve such a thing, her temper was very helpful in driving others away. And yet, it was still a thorn was always buried in her hear. She wanted to be always to be accepted by society, to be part of it ... what a philosophy book and a Shakespearean play could do!

Although Laura longed to be accepted and for society to forget her bitter and bloody past, such a thing could not be; there were times when she preferred to be alone, occupied in something that required extreme concentration. Previously, when she was at the Facility, they trained her by demanding more and more of her, or they tortured her, in order to teach how to bear pain. Among the X-Men, she used to train hours, and later, she had learned reading was an excellent way to occupy her analytical mind as well as continuing to learn.

But here? She had nothing to do. She did not know how to read Tengwar, she did not have any place to train and she could not do it since her alibi was that of a normal woman. She had nothing, nothing except an Elf-Lord on which she could whet her calculating mind. He spent three nights a week talking with her in the garden, occasionally bickering and, of course, singing and playing on his harp. No doubt he was trying his best to help her: that was proven by his willingness to handle her temper and her lack of manners. She enjoyed bickering with him, and appreciated his company, but right now, she only wanted to be alone.

"Hwa Young."

Laura turned slowly to Glorfindel, who was watching her with impatience and discontent in his blue eyes.

"Hwa Young, what is it? Since I commenced describing the Valley of Tumladen you have been watching the Moon and the stars," he explained.

"So? Your point is? "She demanded sourly.

"You have not paid attention to me, which is not pleasant."

Laura tilted her head to the left and crossed her arms, raising her right eyebrow derisively.

"I have not paid attention to you, have I?" She repeated slowly, as if to a small child. "Let's see, your last words were these: 'the grass billows as a sea under the wind, rising and falling like waves. And in the middle of this flowering sea rises in incomparable beauty the Lily of the Vale, the City of Gondolin." she paused, and then added, between mockery and annoyance. "Happy, Lord Glorfindel?"

Glorfindel listened to her, unimpressed. He had had this trick repeated on him too often: Turgon would often recite his words back to him like a child who had learned his lesson by heart, while his mind was elsewhere. Princess Idril too had learned this from her father and would use it when she was preoccupied. He had always found it exceedingly unpleasant. Like them, Hwa Yong had repeated his words as he said them, with identical intonations, but her objective was far different from his.

"No. You heard me, Hwa Yong, but you did not listen to me."

She shrugged.

"So?"

Glorfindel knew that one of the things she was relished was bickering with him. Although it allowed her to know him, and he her, it was not the way he preferred. Although she lacked the finesse of Elven wit, she was clever and cunning, and her tongue was sharp.

Instead of succumbing to her ruse, he decided to understand what was behind her unpleasant demeanor. He had never ever seen her watching the night sky for so long with so thoughtful a face. Something was troubling her. Perhaps her deceased family, but something was wrong, and she was disguising it by provoking him.

"Hwa Young, what is it?" He asked, locking his gaze with hers.

"Again, the same question," she said, rolling her eyes. "Why can't I look somewhere else other than your pretty face, when I *listen* to you, Lord Glorfindel? Or do you want me to be continuously admiring your blue eyes and blonde hair while pretending to listen to your description of Tumladen? Because if so, you are extremely presumptuous and vain. I may add that your features are not that unique: the Princess has eyes of the same color and blond hair. And believe me, I saw both of them last night for a long time."

Glorfindel's jaw tightened and his eyes sparked with anger, but he said calmly,

"So I heard." The Princess had sent for him to say that undoubtedly, he was right: Hwa Young was far more than what meets the eye. She had told him in broad strokes the story that told her of the Moon goddess Coyolxauhqui and the Sun god Huitzilopochtli, but she had placed the most importance on the change that had taken place in the woman when she told the story. Idril said she had been amazed at the joy and enthusiasm she had shown. Lord Duilin reluctantly supported the Princess's story, although adding that she had become as cold and hard after the Princess had remarked the tale she told was somewhat strange.

Glorfindel had begun to fit the pieces together, and he realized she had been thinking about what had happened the night before. It was essential to investigate what was troubling her again. If she kept entrapping her emotions, she would suffer more.

He had found long ago that what this strange daughter of Men wanted desperately was to be heard, to be understood, to be accepted, to remove all the pain that was in there, and this was hurting her more every time. But it was as if she did not understand this: she attacked and vituperated anyone who seemed to close to her. It was her way of protecting herself: a barrier to keep anyone from hurting her. That barrier, keeping all the pain and suffering, as well as her emotions, was no longer just to protect herself. It had become rooted in her life and had presumably almost completely destroyed all joy and kindness. He hoped that once he opened the wall, they would blossom little by little in answer to the light.

He would risk a great deal in trying to pry her open, like a clamshell on the shores of Nevrast, but he was willing to do it. He continued quietly.

" The Princess told me she had spent some hours with you last night. "

"Ah!" said Laura, looking back towards the sky.

Glorfindel continued. What he would say would displease her, but there was no other way of making her speak, so he could help her.

"Princess Idril also told me that you had told her and Lord Duilin a very interesting story about the Sun god and the Moon goddess. She said he had never heard such an interesting tale-"

"Strange." Laura interrupted. "That was the word she used?"

"Yes, it was," answered Glorfindel, his blue eyes fixed on her, searching in her mute language for the slightest sign.

Laura chuckled scornfully. "How interesting,"

"Interesting?" He inquired.

Laura finally took her gaze from the sky. Her face displayed a cold mockery, but her arms and legs were crossed tightly.

'She is in an attitude of rejection,' thought Glorfindel. 'To protect herself.'

"She told me that the story was 'strange', while she told you it was 'interesting'," she said. "That is somewhat interesting, isn't it, Lord Glorfindel? The dear Princess Idril is either a liar or does not know how to talk to people."

Glorfindel crushed down the impulse to rise in indignation and censure the woman. Idril, the Flower and Pearl of Gondolin, the beautiful and tender creature ... liar?! No one had even dreamed of intimating such a thing. It was far better for Hwa Young that Turgon would never know of the slight, for the King was ruthless to anyone who dared to do the slightest damage to his daughter.

"I think your words are both harsh and false," he said, his voice cold and hard, but he did not leave, for she needed to continue speaking. "Think carefully, before you slander the Princess of Gondolin and the Noldor. She has always been kind to you, there is no reason for you to speak about her like that."

"Oh! Kind?" sneered Laura. "As far as I know-though of course, I am a simple firíma with a severe lack of manners and maybe I misunderstood-she tells one of us the story is strange, but she tells her own race, when she wishes to look good and kind, that the story was interesting. I believe she is a false person, who does whatever suits her for the moment."

Glorfindel leaped to his feet, inclined to leave until she knew how to speak of the Silverfoot.

"Go away. Nobody is stopping you," she said nonchalantly, shrugging her shoulders.

He was sorely tempted to follow her advice, but he remembered he had set himself upon the purpose of helping and knowing her. If he did not want to retrace the path he had traveled with so much labor, he would have to endure it.

He sat down, holding her gaze all the while.

"Hwa Young," he said quietly. "Do not think that I will abide your lack of manners all the time. I stay here and do not answer you as you deserve-like one would answer a petulant, cruel and querulous child-because I wish to know you, and I am certain that the day I do, it will be a pleasant wonder. That is what I told the King. But my patience is not eternal and, although my wish is to help you, I will not allow you to disrespect my Princess, nor will I allow you to insult me at your whim. Everything has its bounds and I am willing to leave forever if you continue to subject Princess Idril to your contumely."

She stared at him silently, her features impassive. She was hiding again: thinking about what she said, but she did not want him to know, she did not want him to find a chink in her armor.

Then she got up and said,

"Fine. If you do not want to leave, I'll leave."

She went down the pathway, opened the door to her cottage, and was about to enter when she turned and said,

"See you never, Lord Glorfindel."

He was shocked. Why was she willing to do such harm to herself? Just as on the occasion when she had broken his harp, it had hurt her terribly; and yet, once again, she was willing to suffer the consequences. He knew she was not lying or trying to coerce him and challenge him to know if he really was willing to do what he had threatened. No, she was willing to leave without looking back.

He measured his chances quickly. Once she entered her cottage, she would never talk to him again, and would probably not even leave her cottage, except to go on the roof or in the gardens. She would mistreat all those who were forced to be with her again. Perhaps threatening her had not been the best of ideas. Not only had she felt threatened but offended and even betrayed.

This moment was crucial and for a reason that he himself did not understand, but would rejoice over in the future, stood up and exclaimed, frustrated and desperate,

"What is it, Hwa Young!"

"You already know the answer, Lord Glorfindel. Why do you ask the same stupid question?" She asked coldly." Did I not explain myself correctly? Or are you deaf?"

Lead by the knowledge that the tenuous friendship they had managed was at stake, he cried,

"That's not true, Hwa Young, you lie!"

Laura swung round, leaving the door ajar, and stalked towards him, her hands clenched into fists. She looked like a wounded beast that, uncaring over its wound, is ready to attack.

"You call me a liar, huh?" She snarled when she was a step away from him. "Liar?"

Glorfindel looked at her. He would not let her go, not as readily as that. Years later he would thank the Válar with all his fëa, that he had not surrendered, otherwise, he would never have found the greatest happiness an Elf could find: love.

"No," he answered quietly. "You are not a liar, you just hide what hurts you." He paused "Tell me, Hwa Young, what is hurting you?" His expressive eyes showed clear concern. "I know you do not trust me, you once told me: I do not enjoy your confidence in the least. And I know that you do not trust anyone. You consider that we have not done anything to earn it and maybe that is the way it is. But if you never give us the chance to win it, you will never have anyone to trust. Give me this opportunity and trust me, only once. Allow me to help you, maybe I cannot do anything but listen to you, but if I can help you with that ... I will do it gladly."

Laura stared at him blankly.

"Please," the Elf-lord finished, hoping with all his heart that those words would touch her.

She relaxed, and her fists opened. She turned and started walking slowly towards the cottage, her eyes fixed on the ground.

"You cannot help me, Lord Glorfindel." she answered in a dull voice. "Nobody can."

"Maybe," he replied, cutting in front of her path. "But at least tell me what is hurting you, let me hear you. This way neither of us can say that I never tried to help you that way."

Laura remained silent for a moment.

"It's nothing," she muttered. "It's not worth it."

Glorfindel studied her in the moonlight. She had shaken her hair over her face as if frightened that even her blank features could not hide what she felt.

"Hwa Young, look at me."

But Laura continued to stare at the ground. Glorfindel frowned; he knew that attitude would last only few scant seconds more before she would step aside and go back to the cottage to never leave again. His nimble mind tried to put pieces together: rejecting all of them, until one.

"It is the story."

Laura was arrested in her movement.

"The story of the Sun god and the Moon goddess is not it?" he asked. When he saw that there was no answer, he hurried to continue before the woman resumed her way.

"Hwa Young, when the Princess told you it was very strange, it was because she had never heard anything like it, not because they did not enjoy it," he said rebukingly. "She told me that was interesting and what she told me of the story, so it seemed to me as well. She described how you narrated it. She only said it was strange because she did not know how else to respond at the moment. You even caught the attention of Lord Duilin: do not think otherwise."

Laura laughed bitterly.

"Nobody likes what I like," she said, speaking to the flagstones. "My past has dyed even my tastes dark."

"I think you are wrong in both. The Princess and Lord Duilin were fascinated by your story and both enjoyed the manner in which you told it. Perhaps the word she used to describe it was not the most fitting, but her face indicated joy when she told it to me. What was more, she told me that I was right: you are more than what you seem to be. There is. There is a kind, good-hearted and grateful woman." He paused. "You can say that no one enjoys what you do, but that would be a lie. I like the song that is so precious to you, and that was how I contrived to see that there is more to you than you have shown us."

Laura lifted her face abruptly and fixed her green eyes, shining with illimitable gratitude, on his.

"I thought you had just learned it, so you could have something to do at night."

Glorfindel laughed.

"I admit that at the beginning that was the reason. But I was also looking for a way to make you smile, even for a moment. Later, when you started teaching me the notes and even more when you taught me the refrain, I fancied it so that I learned the refrain without knowing what it means. I learned it because I enjoy it and because I can sing with you "

Laura smiled slightly, a smile full of joy and gratitude. What her words did not say, her eyes and smile said a thousand times stronger. When she smiled, Glorfindel thought she was almost... comely.

He matched her smile. He had finally persuaded her to open for a few moments. He had managed to keep her from leaving that bench forever.

"Perhaps we could rehearse the song," he suggested after a few minutes.

Laura nodded, and they went back to the bench. Glorfindel took up his harp from where had left it, and began to play while she sang, accompanying her at the refrain.

When they finished there was a moment of silence, which Glorfindel broke.

"May I ask a question, Hwa Young?"

Laura nodded.

"What does the song say and what is it titled?"

Laura was silently thoughtful for a moment. Then she sighed and said,

"The song is called 'On horseback'. The lyrics of the song goes:

'I like beer and I like cheese,

I like the smell of a western breeze,

But what I like more than of all these,

Is to be on horseback'

"And the refrain goes,

'Hey! And here we go,

Through the grass, across the snow,

Big brown beastie,

Big brown face,

I'd rather be with you than flying through space.'

"The next stanza goes,

'I like thunder and I like rain,

And open fire and roaring flames,

But if the thunder is in my brain,

I like to be on horseback.'

Some like the cities, some the noise,

Some make chaos and other toys,

But if I was to have the choice,

I'd rather be on horseback'

"And once the refrain is sung. The lyric of the next stanza is,

'Some find strange to be here,

On this small planet and who knows where,

But when is strange and full of fear,

Is nice to be on horseback.

Some are short and others tall,

Some hit their heads against the wall,

But it doesn't really matter at all,

When you happen to be on horseback'

"And again, is sung the refrain. The lyric of the last stanza goes,

'So, if you feel a little gloom,

To Hergest Ridge you should come,

In summer, winter,

Rain or Sun,

It's good to be on horseback'

And the refrain is sung twice at the end.'"

When Laura finished telling him the lyrics in Quenya, she watched him, waiting for his reaction.

Glorfindel frowned. The lyrics of the song did not make sense to him. He wondered for a moment if that was how all the songs were in North Korea. If so, he pitied them: they were unskilled in composing music.

"I do not understand," he finally said. "That is, I do not know the meaning of the words. What does it mean?"

Laura's face was darkened by a cloud of sadness and loneliness. She shook her head, her tears glimmering in her pale, black-fringed eyes.

"Even if I explained it to you, you would never understand it," she said in a subdued voice. She rose then, and went to her cottage, closing the door behind her.

Glorfindel watched her leave: struck by the tears in her eyes. But he knew that though she was iron, iron that was untempered was brittle: hard and cold, and in the end, breakable.

He stood up, his harp in his hands, and left towards the palace.

What had happened? She was hiding a mystery, that for her sake, had to be solved.

Upon the west wall of Gondolin, Lord Duilin sat, lost in his thoughts. The Moon was shining pale and bright, the night wind was whispering to him.

He relished the feel of the cool wind blowing softly on his face, a soft and lilting song.

The silence of the night was pulsing with the chirp of crickets, and the sweet twitter of nightingales. Occasional songs came, soft and sweet with the throbbing tones of the harp, raised as praise to the beauty of the Moon and the stars.

He heard a familiar tune, of how their forebears first saw the stars

"'Elé! Elé! They cried. Behold!

And upward gazed into the night

And saw jewels a hundredfold

Glimmering in the soft twilight",

And remembered the strange story Hwa Young had told.

Indeed, her people were ignorant. He had not dealt much with the Men but had heard tidings from Lord Finrod's host while in Nevrast that the Atani worshipped the Válar.

But the people of North Korea had not been so enlightened. Perhaps Men believed blindly, but to think that the Moon and the stars had come that way was laughable.

Hùrin and Hùor, the Lords of Dòr-Lomin had not been like this woman, nor believed in strange gods. Duilin had respected these brothers, strong, stalwart, clever.

Hùrin the Steadfast he had especially held in esteem. This man had great endurance of will, and of all Men of the North, he knew most of the counsels of the Noldor.

Turgon also had grown to love both them, but the brothers had at last returned to their kin. And not three years since they departed, this woman had come. Nothing about her inspired trust in Duilin's heart: neither her insolence nor her querulousness nor her sharp tongue. But the previous night had been different, perhaps enough to persuade him that Glorfindel had not lost his mind entirely. Perhaps, he had misjudged the firíma.

He shrugged, not overly unconcerned. Perhaps this development would make her stay here a little more bearable.

A soft pitter-patter, like the heartbeat of a sparrow, made him leap to his feet, drawing the small falchion he always kept in his belt.

It was neither an enemy nor a guard that had come upon him. It was an Elven-maid, tall and slender. Soft black hair fell in a torrent down her back, surrounding a face of tender beauty. But he recognized her eyes: bright eyes of dove feathers: a hue softly grey, like birds flying on sunlit days.

When she saw him draw the falchion, she jumped back with a short scream of surprise, raising her hands in surrender.

So... who's this elf-maiden that went to see to Lord Duilin?

By the way, the song 'On horseback' was written by the English musician, Mike Oldfield. He wrote the song for similar reasons like Laura.

Waiting for your reviews, guys!