CH 10

Just a note to the readers: my pen name has been changed from Niromiel to BrieCheese. Okay?

Here we go.

Ch 10

In Rivendell.

Azor stumbled into Lord Elrond's office, while the lord himself was speaking with Niromiel's mother.

"Never fear, Lady Eledhwen," Lord Elrond reassured his worried friend. "Never- what? Azor?"

Lady Eledhwen turned around. "Oh my. It is worse than we thought isn't it, my lord?" she asked, as Lord Elrond kneeled down in front of the dog, and looked deeply into its brown, sad eyes. He instantaneously knew what had happened. He debated how to tell Lady Eledhwen of her husband and daughter's fates.

In the forest.

"If you swear you will not touch my father's body," Niromiel said gravely, "I will do your bidding."

"For a year and a day, you shall be a slave. Afterwards, you shall be free, and we will have forgotten your father." Firehead said. "But you must do our bidding as we tell you."

"Then it is agreed," Niromiel managed to say. "Where is your travel destination?"

"Bree, come now, you can ride your own horse, but once we get to Bree, we'll sell him."

"It's a female, and you're not selling my horse!"

"You are now my property, and so is your little pony, arwenamin. You shall do as we please," Firehead replied in an odious, oily voice. "And as it is, it would please me to sell this animal, and travel about with a heavier pocket. If you want to keep your horse, however, you do not have to be our slave, but my company gets dibs on your father's possessions. We will end up men of means anyway we go."

"You will never be of worth, you pathetic dogs. And."Niro looked at her horse and her father. "You can have Aranal, for that is my horse's name."

Firehead and his men smiled. Hmmm..they need names. The thin one can be Skinnandbones. The ugly one can be Lirva (elvish for sickness). "Speaking of names, "Lirva said, in a voice as oily as that of Firehead's, "What is yours, fair lady?"

"Uhh..Ringwe (elvish for cold AN: these names have symbolism here in case you haven't caught on already).my name's Ringwe," Niro finally answered.

"Well then, come Ringwe Slave, we must get to Bree and we can't have you holding us up," Skinandbones declared.

Niromiel got onto her horse, and only someone with the hearing of an elf would be able to hear her mutter "piracy.". She affectionally petted Aranal, knowing the horse could not understand that the girl had to part with it. Niromiel dreaded the destination of Bree, for animals had been some of her most trusted friends, and in a week, Niromiel would have to part with the only friend she had with her, on a year and a day journey. Firehead, or perhaps it was Lirva, gave the signal, and they left.

A week or two later.

Niromiel sat sadly at a table in the Prancing Pony, with a mug of beer she hadn't touched, while her "owners" danced around giddy and drunk.

"Damn it all, I'll have to straighten them out again." Niromiel thought. For she hated herself, having sympathy for the men, with their heavy drinking. Lirva walked over and pinched her butt. This was NOT the first time he had tried this. "Not again," Niromiel thought.

She had been with these men a few weeks, and knew them well by now, for they were such simpletons, anyone could read them like a book. Niromiel knew all it would take would be a single punch, and Lirva would be asleep until noon the next day. So she punched the scumbag, and dragged him off to a corner, where he fell asleep in a minute or two. Niromiel went back to her bench, and buried her face in her hands for a minute thinking, "And this is my life. This is my fate, and this is as good as it will get for three hundred and thirty two more days."