Hi people around the world!

I want to thank Celridel for her immense help in editing this story. Also I want to thank d'elfe, Duckingcute, Backstreet Girl and idonthaveaname for their so important reviews.

So, now let's see what happens with Laura after what she did to Lord Glorfindel during their 'friendly' duel.

Waiting for your reviews, guys!


Chapter 50: The Raven and the Gold

The punchbag bobbed on the branch as Laura delivered another heavy blow.

She was breathing hard, sweat carving rivulets down her pale face.

She had ruined everything, as per usual. Glorfindel had challenged her to a friendly duel...and she had been so desperate to defeat him she had been anything but friendly. She had even been willing to hurt herself to stop his victory.

And his eyes! She couldn't shake that memory, no matter how hard she hit. His voice had held real anxiety, maybe even pain.

'Laura, enough!'

His cry had brought her back to herself. During the duel, it was like she had been jailed up. The cold assassin, that one schooled and bred to kill, had taken over her body, and forced her-what she had come to consider the real her-to become a spectator. Glorfindel had pulled her back.

The punchbag dropped, following with a grainy thud onto the grass. Laura knelt, puffing out her cheeks in exasperation. Her blows had ripped the fabric.

She sighed, crouching on her heels. What would have happened if she had hurt Glorfindel? The King would have put her under house arrest, maybe even in the dungeons, but that was secondary to what she would have done. If, under that berserker fugue, she had hurt Glorfindel, she would have killed herself.

That was her birthright. The Facility had made her the Da Vinci of fighting, stealing her capacity to feel to do so.

Feelings… feelings… feelings! Life had been easier without them, but then, she hadn't truly been living. To live was to feel things. With Alassë's patient help, she learned that feelings brought flavor to life. Everything she thought black and white was all the colors of a hummingbird's wing.

But realizing that she was in love with an impossibility, had stolen the color away again. Only during those times when she touched Glorfindel di the dreamy, quilted greyness slip away. When they touched, she felt like new senses had been given to her, making her able to fully appreciate the splendid world around her.

Laura didn't know what caused the electric, eye-opening sensation, but she knew it was like being pulled from one reality to another, and the jolt of being forced back into a monochrome world after being dazzled by beauty was worse than simply staying in her own grey world.

She turned on the punchbag, extending her claws and attacking it, until it lay in ribbons, like an external reflection of the chaos in her heart.

Then she stood, breathing hard, her claws reflecting red in the sunset. There was something else red on her knuckles too. It was blood.

Another time, Laura would have continued her regime without hesitation, but she had begun to realize that this self-torture was no use. Instead, she began to scoop up the sand and tattered bits of cloth, putting it into the sandbag.

She thought of closing up again, putting up her old walls, but she realized that the love she had Glorfindel would not fit inside her shell. She would explode, lashing at those nearest and dearest to her, showering them with shrapnel. She could not do that.

Laura finished cleaning up as best as she could, and headed for her cottage to take a bath, although she knew she would be coming back out soon. While she was doing that, she could formulate an apology for Glorfindel, and cross her fingers that he would forgive her. She would deny that she had felt anything, and she doubted her would bring it up. It seemed to her that Glorfindel didn't like talking about that feeling.

It was best to apologize and promise never to do it again... assuming Glorfindel would ever invite her to another friendly duel, or anything friends did.


The evening sun illuminated Turgon's face as he turned it West, back towards his city. Standing by her horse, Idril smiled fondly, her hair a golden spill of light in the sunset.

Her father was no longer dressed as a King: his clothes were well-made but simple. She had seen that lately, her father's crown, although skillfully wrought and light upon the head, was heavy on the heart, so she forced him to go riding with her, hoping it would help him forget his cares for a while.

Sheltered although Gondolin was, they could not help hearing of the tidings of Beren and Lúthien Tinúviel, who together had braved the darkness of the Unnamed and won back the Silmaril. But those were the only good tidings that came their way.

The Ñoldor had lost control of the entire north of Beleriand, and Morgoth, enraged at his defeat at the hands of a half-Maia and an outlaw, had begun outfitting for war. To the East, Maeglin the Dispossessed was gathering the remnants of the Ñoldor to him in an alliance to take Thangorodrim, and the threat of war hung like a caul over Beleriand.

"Atar," she said gently. Turgon turned from where Gondolin glimmered in the dying sunset, his face startled and confused. He smiled at her then, and she smiled back.

"Atar, you can speak to me." Her arm made a broad gesture across the green fields. "There is no one else to hear, so talk freely. Unburden your mind."

"Oh, that would be quite an avalanche," Turgon said. "But I will start with the least of my concerns. The firíma, Laura Kinney, wants to join one of the Houses."

Idril smiled knowingly. "And none of the Lords wish her too," she said. "None save Glorfindel," Turgon admitted. "He continually advocates for her, no matter how poorly she treats him. He wishes the woman to join his House."

"And what does Maeglin say?"

"He says nothing: he remains neutral in this matter."

"So, what do you wish?"

"I do not wish her to join any House," Turgon said. "If the other Lords change their minds, I will not overrule them, but... a chain is only as strong as its weakest link."

Idril looked at him, her gaze strong and kind. "Then find her a different profession so she can put her skills to use."

A slow smile was drawn on Turgon's face. "Itarillë, I am not slow to forget."

"I know. Keep it in mind at the Council, Atar." She turned her far-seeing gaze Northwards, where, hidden by black vapors, Morgoth's stronghold lay. "There are many matters to be dealt with."


"Laura?"

Glorfindel closed the gate behind him. There was no moon and no lanterns.

He saw Laura in the garden, sparring with a wooden dummy. She aimed a sharp kick at the thing's side then turned to face him, raking strands of hair out of her face.

"What brings you here, Glorfindel?" she asked in a cool, emotionless voice.

"I imagine you know," Glorfindel answered.

"Yes. No one wants me to part of their House. My Lord."

"You have completed your training, Laura, so there is no need for that. And you did very well."

Laura slid him a sideways glance. "So why aren't I allowed to serve?"

"The King will speak to you about that matter tomorrow,"

Laura shook her head in exasperation. "Yeah, he doesn't need to do that. No one trusts me, that's why. Why was I allowed into training if I couldn't even be a soldier?!" she exclaimed, her voice furious.

"Laura, it is not what you think."

"It isn't, huh? So, what exactly is it?"

"Laura-"

"It's been a week, Glorfindel. I knew this was going to happen! You guys wouldn't let me in-"

"Laura!" Glorfindel interrupted, his tone reproachful. "You have not even heard the King's ruling."

"Fine. You tell me."

"No. He wishes to speak to you in person. Besides, I came for a different reason."

Laura crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes hard. "And that is?"

He gave her a long-suffering look. Laura's face grew stony.

"Why did you hurt yourself?" Glorfindel asked at last.

"I didn't. It was just a scratch."

"Laura, stop being flippant. It was a wound, and a serious one."

Laura snorted and turned back to her dummy, pushing it until it bobbed around. "You worry too much."

"No, Laura, I do not," he said, his voice so sharp she turned back to face him. "It was not you, was it?" he added in a gentler voice. "That was something that Hwa-Yong or X-23 would have done, not you, not the Laura I know now."

"Maybe I haven't changed," she said harshly.

"No. Hwa-Yong and X-23 do not exist any longer. Only Laura Kinney."

"Oh, and you know everything-"

"Blondie?" Glorfindel finished for her. "Insulting me will not change my mind. I know you well enough to be certain that you have truly changed. There was a metamorphosis, and you became...my BFF."

Laura's eyes softened, then fell, but before they did, he saw a huge sadness that moved him to the core. "Sorry," she said in a low, husky voice. "It's...it's...my training took over. Whenever I lost at the Facility...they tortured me. That's why I did it. I had to do whatever I could to win."

Glorfindel looked at her, chilled with horror. He reached out instinctively to comfort her, then snatched his hand back just in time. "There is nothing to forgive, Laura. You are no longer under the Facility's power. You are in a safe place, where you can start anew."

Laura looked at him sadly. "Maybe...but you can't teach an old dog new tricks."

"Laura," He said firmly. "You are neither old nor a dog. You are a strong woman, who has achieved many good things. Seeing you injured-and with my blade-truly distressed me. You are my Elf-Friend, my BFF."

"Yes...Elf-Friend...BFF," She murmured, lowering her head and looking away.

"What is it, Laura?"

"Nothing," She answered in a forced voice. "I need to be alone"

"Laura-"

"Seriously, Glorfindel, I need to be alone. Have a blessed night." She went quickly past him into the cottage.

And without waiting any longer, she went to her cottage.

Glorfindel stared at the closed door for a few minutes, his fëa shrunk with sadness at seeing his...friend in such a state.


Waiting for your reviews, guys!