"Let's start with the basics", he said as she studied the food that she was supposed to be eating.
"Hmm. I got a good basic question. What is this?" she asked, picking up the spoon in her bowl and dumping it's contents back into the bowl, letting it splash all over. He took the spoon from her hand and put it back into the bowl and replied "Food, now eat it."
She crinkled her nose, and smelt it, then took a sip and started eating it. "You don't know anything about yourself, where your from, or anything that has happened in the first 15 years of your life, correct?"
"How do u know I'm 15?" she looked at him questioningly.
"I know your 15, your name is Rogue, and you live... lived in Mordor." He replied. "But all else will have to wait."
Rogue. That sounded familiar, along with all the other things he was telling her. But how could he know who she was and when she didn't. None of this was making sense.
"Rogue. That means something. Not a name, but a word." She said aloud, though not directly at Elrond.
He sat there for a second looking puzzled and finally said, "I wish the English language was more descriptive sometimes. It means a rose that shines red... proudly."
"And how do you know all this?" She stared at him determinedly, wanting more information as oppose to the answer to the question. He simply stared ahead blankly, not answering and told her to finish eating.
***
You will know when the time comes. The words rang in her head. Why did he simply refuse to tell her more? It made no sense. None of it did. She walked around the building she was in and studied the statues and monuments that were planted throughout the rooms. She came to this one room where there was a statue of a girl holding a cloth. On the cement cloth lay a shattered sword. She only looked, not wanting to touch it in case it was against a rule, or law, or something of that matter. On the wall to the right of it was a large painting. It took up the entire wall. There was a strange, large, evil looking man who was being attacked by o younger looking man with the shards of a sword. She turned around and looked back at the broken sword and compared it to the one in the picture. It was the same one. There was another man in the painting. He was lying on the rock, dead. He had a crown on. It must have been the king. She studied the picture some more, and ran her hands across it to feel the texture of the paint. She looked back to the middle of the picture with a small gasp. It had changed. When she touched it it changed. She ran her hands across it again, and it changed. Here was more to the picture. She flattened her palm and moved it around the area. There was a face. It was a young girl. Anxiously, she moved her hand more quickly around, revealing the whole figure. Her eyes widened. She knew this girl. It was her.
"Hmm. I got a good basic question. What is this?" she asked, picking up the spoon in her bowl and dumping it's contents back into the bowl, letting it splash all over. He took the spoon from her hand and put it back into the bowl and replied "Food, now eat it."
She crinkled her nose, and smelt it, then took a sip and started eating it. "You don't know anything about yourself, where your from, or anything that has happened in the first 15 years of your life, correct?"
"How do u know I'm 15?" she looked at him questioningly.
"I know your 15, your name is Rogue, and you live... lived in Mordor." He replied. "But all else will have to wait."
Rogue. That sounded familiar, along with all the other things he was telling her. But how could he know who she was and when she didn't. None of this was making sense.
"Rogue. That means something. Not a name, but a word." She said aloud, though not directly at Elrond.
He sat there for a second looking puzzled and finally said, "I wish the English language was more descriptive sometimes. It means a rose that shines red... proudly."
"And how do you know all this?" She stared at him determinedly, wanting more information as oppose to the answer to the question. He simply stared ahead blankly, not answering and told her to finish eating.
***
You will know when the time comes. The words rang in her head. Why did he simply refuse to tell her more? It made no sense. None of it did. She walked around the building she was in and studied the statues and monuments that were planted throughout the rooms. She came to this one room where there was a statue of a girl holding a cloth. On the cement cloth lay a shattered sword. She only looked, not wanting to touch it in case it was against a rule, or law, or something of that matter. On the wall to the right of it was a large painting. It took up the entire wall. There was a strange, large, evil looking man who was being attacked by o younger looking man with the shards of a sword. She turned around and looked back at the broken sword and compared it to the one in the picture. It was the same one. There was another man in the painting. He was lying on the rock, dead. He had a crown on. It must have been the king. She studied the picture some more, and ran her hands across it to feel the texture of the paint. She looked back to the middle of the picture with a small gasp. It had changed. When she touched it it changed. She ran her hands across it again, and it changed. Here was more to the picture. She flattened her palm and moved it around the area. There was a face. It was a young girl. Anxiously, she moved her hand more quickly around, revealing the whole figure. Her eyes widened. She knew this girl. It was her.