Laurelen stood silently for nearly half an hour. The elves waited
patiently, but even Aragorn was looking impatient by the time the girl
spoke again. She took in a deep breath and seemed to hold it for a few
moments.
Elrond asked softly, "What happened, young one?"
Laurelen turned to him with pain-filled eyes. "It was night, I remember. The wind was blowing, and it was raining. We could not hear anything, and my father could barely see the trail. But he and my mother refused to stop and wait out the storm. I was wet, cold, and wanted to be safe, but I said nothing. My father was carrying me, so I could not complain. Every once in a while, he would look back over his shoulder and listen anxiously. But I was too tired and miserable to notice what he had seen. He looked over his shoulder again, and he and my mother broke into a run. He set me down as he was running, and the fear in his hands and his face made me run with them. I had never known true terror before, but now I was running before its snapping jaws. My father stumbled beside me and fell. My mother stopped, but bid me to run on. I could not."
Laurelen's face contorted. "I disobeyed my parents, and suffered. My father had not tripped. He was shot in the leg by an arrow. Then they came, bounding over the soaked earth and through the rain. I did not see them until they surrounded us." The girl stopped. Her lips curled back in a feral snarl, and her eyes grew hot with hate. Aragorn and Poppy looked startled, but the elves only waited. Two of them sat tensely in their chairs, as if they knew what was coming. The dark-haired twin sons of Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir. In their eyes burned a flame identical to the fire in Laurelen's eyes.
The elf girl finally spit out a single word. It carried fifty years of rage and anger and pain. "Orcs."
"They surrounded us. There was no escape. My father lay wounded on the ground, and my mother prepared to die to protect him and her child. Me.
"One of those horrible creatures came forward with a spear and prodded my father with its sharp end." Laurelen's eyes gleamed. "He would have been wiser to stay where he was. My father was up in a flash, and had his sword buried in its ugly throat as its black blood spilled over onto the ground.
"Then the rest of the orcs came alive. The rest of the night was very confusing for me. My parents fought bravely. I remember little except my father's sword flashing, and my mother's twin daggers. I curled up in a little ball between their legs and tried to shut it all out. I had never seen battle before, and I did not like it.
"I saw my mother fall beside me, and my father fighting furiously. I was afraid, but now I could feel anger growing in me. I took the daggers from my mother's still hands and stood beside my father. The orcs saw me and laughed. I came barely halfway up my father's ribs. But they soon stopped laughing. I lost myself in the battle to blind hate and anger, even as young as I was. But soon it was over. My father lay beside my feet. He gave his life protecting me. The orcs took me and bound me. More lost their lives because of this, but in the end, I could not move because the ropes bit so deeply."
Laurelen halted, and grief twisted her face. She turned her eyes to the sky, and they filled with tears. She turned back to her audience, and said only one more thing. Her voice was tight from straining not to cry. "I will tell you no more, except to say that I would rather die than go through what has happened to me again. It is sufficient to say that I was sold as a slave and suffered long years at the hands of men. I would that I had died with my parents that horrible night." Her voice cracked, and she fled the courtyard, head low and eyes full of tears.
The two sons of Elrond watched her go, their own faces shadowed with grief. They looked to their father, but a bare shake of his head dissuaded them from whatever they had wanted to do.
The silence that followed the elf-girl's exit was broken by an impatient shuffle of Poppy's foot. All attention turned to her, and she grew red with embarrassment.
Elrond spoke to her now. "Tell us how you came to be in the company of Aragorn."
So Poppy told her story of being orphaned ("no one knows what happened to my parents") and how a fat old innkeeper named Barliaman Butterbur raised her, and then that summer evening when she met the wounded elf. "It was then that I realized I had no friends. Laurelen became my first and only friend. So when it came time for her to leave, I followed, because I did not want to be separated from her." Poppy eyed everyone suspiciously. "You won't send me back, will you?"
Elrond looked at her gravely. "No, indeed we will not. She will need a friend in the long days to come." He sighed. "I fear that there is much pain that she must go through still.
"But now, it is nearly time to eat. We shall meet in the dining hall in half an hour."
Elrond asked softly, "What happened, young one?"
Laurelen turned to him with pain-filled eyes. "It was night, I remember. The wind was blowing, and it was raining. We could not hear anything, and my father could barely see the trail. But he and my mother refused to stop and wait out the storm. I was wet, cold, and wanted to be safe, but I said nothing. My father was carrying me, so I could not complain. Every once in a while, he would look back over his shoulder and listen anxiously. But I was too tired and miserable to notice what he had seen. He looked over his shoulder again, and he and my mother broke into a run. He set me down as he was running, and the fear in his hands and his face made me run with them. I had never known true terror before, but now I was running before its snapping jaws. My father stumbled beside me and fell. My mother stopped, but bid me to run on. I could not."
Laurelen's face contorted. "I disobeyed my parents, and suffered. My father had not tripped. He was shot in the leg by an arrow. Then they came, bounding over the soaked earth and through the rain. I did not see them until they surrounded us." The girl stopped. Her lips curled back in a feral snarl, and her eyes grew hot with hate. Aragorn and Poppy looked startled, but the elves only waited. Two of them sat tensely in their chairs, as if they knew what was coming. The dark-haired twin sons of Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir. In their eyes burned a flame identical to the fire in Laurelen's eyes.
The elf girl finally spit out a single word. It carried fifty years of rage and anger and pain. "Orcs."
"They surrounded us. There was no escape. My father lay wounded on the ground, and my mother prepared to die to protect him and her child. Me.
"One of those horrible creatures came forward with a spear and prodded my father with its sharp end." Laurelen's eyes gleamed. "He would have been wiser to stay where he was. My father was up in a flash, and had his sword buried in its ugly throat as its black blood spilled over onto the ground.
"Then the rest of the orcs came alive. The rest of the night was very confusing for me. My parents fought bravely. I remember little except my father's sword flashing, and my mother's twin daggers. I curled up in a little ball between their legs and tried to shut it all out. I had never seen battle before, and I did not like it.
"I saw my mother fall beside me, and my father fighting furiously. I was afraid, but now I could feel anger growing in me. I took the daggers from my mother's still hands and stood beside my father. The orcs saw me and laughed. I came barely halfway up my father's ribs. But they soon stopped laughing. I lost myself in the battle to blind hate and anger, even as young as I was. But soon it was over. My father lay beside my feet. He gave his life protecting me. The orcs took me and bound me. More lost their lives because of this, but in the end, I could not move because the ropes bit so deeply."
Laurelen halted, and grief twisted her face. She turned her eyes to the sky, and they filled with tears. She turned back to her audience, and said only one more thing. Her voice was tight from straining not to cry. "I will tell you no more, except to say that I would rather die than go through what has happened to me again. It is sufficient to say that I was sold as a slave and suffered long years at the hands of men. I would that I had died with my parents that horrible night." Her voice cracked, and she fled the courtyard, head low and eyes full of tears.
The two sons of Elrond watched her go, their own faces shadowed with grief. They looked to their father, but a bare shake of his head dissuaded them from whatever they had wanted to do.
The silence that followed the elf-girl's exit was broken by an impatient shuffle of Poppy's foot. All attention turned to her, and she grew red with embarrassment.
Elrond spoke to her now. "Tell us how you came to be in the company of Aragorn."
So Poppy told her story of being orphaned ("no one knows what happened to my parents") and how a fat old innkeeper named Barliaman Butterbur raised her, and then that summer evening when she met the wounded elf. "It was then that I realized I had no friends. Laurelen became my first and only friend. So when it came time for her to leave, I followed, because I did not want to be separated from her." Poppy eyed everyone suspiciously. "You won't send me back, will you?"
Elrond looked at her gravely. "No, indeed we will not. She will need a friend in the long days to come." He sighed. "I fear that there is much pain that she must go through still.
"But now, it is nearly time to eat. We shall meet in the dining hall in half an hour."