//Hiding behind walls
will you play with me?//
The void that encompassed me twisted, swirling black and blood as one. My eyes shifted frantically, searching for an unknown source. Walls formed and my parents' faces morphed continuously, but I took no heed to their sweet eyes and wicked grins.
I looked down, and saw myself dressed in the pretty white dress my mother was wearing. But something was seeping into it, turning the innocent white into an iniquitous red. Touching it, my fingers found the source of the stain at the base of my neck. Glancing at it, I dropped my hand indifferently and tilted my head up.
A bright light flashed in slow motion before me, and daggers sluggishly travelled towards my heart. As the blades inched towards my body, I held up a pale hand, palm pointing towards the knives, and a blue light gradually formed from the centre, creating an orb. The orb crept out and impacted with the blades. An unexpected halt came and the daggers dropped, disappearing into the void beneath me.
Suddenly, 'time' resumed, and frenzied whispers echoed from the walls, speaking in a strange language. I kept hearing the name Laire Carn, and as the whispers increasingly became more high-pitched, I slapped my hands over my ears to block out the screaming.
Screaming, screaming, screaming. They kept screaming my name…stop it, stop it…why can't they just…
A cool hand pressed itself against my forehead, calming me immediately. I painfully gasped for breath, my neck wound not yet healed. Soothing words were murmured in my ear and a wet cloth replaced the hand on my forehead.
My eyes drifted close for a moment before weakly fluttering open again. A fuzzy figure appeared and I blinked several times to clear the blurriness. A man with a soft face gazed worriedly back at me as his comforting words stopped.
"How are you feeling, Lady Summer?" he asked gently.
As I made to reply, the soreness of my throat reminded me of my wound as I croaked an answer.
"My throat really hurts. What happened?"
The man sighed and turned his head away from me. I watched as he routinely removed the cloth against my forehead and soaked it in a wooden bowl beside the bed. As he wrung out the wet material and replaced it on my head, he spoke quietly.
"Perhaps we should wait till the morrow for the answers to your questions. Then everything shall be explained."
Impatience bubbled through me, but I nodded sorely in agreement. Giving me a small smile the man rose to leave, but paused when I scratchily called out.
"Who are you?"
Turning around, his long brown hair wavered, revealing the tip of a pointed ear. My gaze wandered to his ear, and back to his face, a questioning look in my eyes. He merely followed the path of my eyes and gave a small chuckle at my curiosity.
"I am Elrond Halfelven."
I gave a numb nod, my attention refocused on the pain in my neck from the small exertions of the conversation. I heard the door click shut and relaxed back into the feathery pillow beneath me. I shut my eyes and drifted into a surprisingly peaceful slumber, hoping that the morning would bring answers.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A pleasant voice woke me the next morning, humming a cheerful tune. I cracked my eyes open to find the room flooded in sunlight. I gave a small groan at the chalky taste in my mouth and the annoying ache in my throat.
The sweet voice stopped at the sound of my awakening, softly treading towards the bed. I slowly turned my head around to find myself gazing at a tall and beautiful brunette. Her complexion was pale and flawless, her dark brown hair tumbling gracefully down her shoulders while she wore an elegant aquamarine dress. The sight of her made me feel wretched and unattractive.
"You wake, Lady Summer. How are you feeling?" she asked in a jovial tone.
"Crap," I moodily answered, her happy disposition irritating me immensely.
Raising a perfectly curved eyebrow, she turned, walked over to a wardrobe and pulled out a lovely cream dress. Laying it on the chair of a nearby dressing table, she then proceeded to yank me out of the comfortable bed, paying no heed to my injuries.
I yelped in pain and her grip //death grip? No, not so sinful// on my arm loosened. I spun around and glared at her. Ignoring me, she quickly stripped off my nightgown and pulled the silk gown over the top of my head.
After lacing up the back, she plonked me down on the chair of the dressing table and commenced on the laborious task of untangling my hair. As she determinedly tried to brush my hair without having to jerk the brush out, I sighed.
"Look, I'm sorry I was such a bitc-…so rude just now. But waking up after having your throat slit open isn't the best feeling in the world," I apologised, and catching the slang in my sentence.
The lady paused and through the mirror, I saw her smile understandingly at me. Her cheery mood returned and as she continued to brush my hair, she introduced herself.
"I am Arwen Undomiel. I believe my father visited you last night?"
Looking at her closely in the mirror, I realised that she did bear a great resemblance to the man who took care of me. Plus, her ears did seem a little pointed…
"Yeah, he was really nice."
Arwen put down the brush and proceeded to braid the sides of my hair as she continued speaking, "Yes, he is an elven healer. I apologise for being so rough when I pulled you out of the bed, but we are running tight on schedule."
"What's happening?"
I watched her nimble fingers through the mirror swiftly braid my hair, her eyes narrowed slightly in concentration. Once she had finished one side, she answered my question before moving on to the other.
"Well, after breakfast, many of the wise, including my father, in Minas Tirith wish for your presence in the hall."
"Minas Tirith?" I asked, puzzled.
"The elven name for the city of Gondor. Many far and wide were invited for the celebrations yester night."
At the mention of the night before, I battled hard to fight the tears and pain, ignoring Arwen's looks of concern. I was far from overcoming my encounter with my father, but I pushed my emotions just beneath the skin, fearing if I pushed too far, I would be forever haunted.
"Lady, what horrors of the past ail you?"
I shook my head fervently, not wishing to reopen fresh wounds //wounds will never close, bleed, bleed, bleed//. Respecting my wish, the elven-maiden continued to braid the other side of my hair. Carefully avoiding the topic and further questions, I feigned curiosity.
"What else is happening today?"
A dreamy look flashed across Arwen's orbs, before she quickly turned back to my hair, hiding a blush.
"Preparations for the wedding," she replied bashfully.
Pretending to be really dumb, I pressed on, "Who's wedding?"
She mumbled an answer that I did not catch, so I repeated the question.
"Mine to the Lord Aragorn," she replied equally as quiet, but I caught it as I strained my ears.
I gave a gasp of delight as I swivelled around and congratulated her. Her pale cheeks flushed a tomato red as I hugged her and she continued to fill me in on the preparations for the big day.
After a delicious breakfast, which Arwen had brought up to the room when she came, she led me through the wide and beautiful surroundings of the castle to the hall. Antique portraits stared at me through ancient eyes //the eyes of the devil? No, I loved the devil//, and landscape paintings detailed the splendour of the land of Middle Earth.
The castle was not unlike those I had seen in the movies back home. But my memories of home were quickly becoming hazy, having forgotten some of the simple details of life. Just the thought of forgetting home struck a fresh pang of homesickness in my heart as I dearly missed my mother.
Huge doors suddenly loomed before us and I was snapped out of my reverie. Before beckoning the guards to open the doors, Arwen pulled me aside and whispered, "Do not worry yourself, my Lord merely wishes to find what role you play in the course of our land. Quel marth, Lady Summer."
Arwen muttered a couple of words to the stern guards and they obediently swung the great doors open. Taking my hand comfortingly, she guided me into the hall, towards a huge and long stone table, filled with solemn faces, and which at the head sat Aragorn.