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Chapter six- Weather Worn

I woke with a jolt, rubbing the still lingering pain from my leg. It was well past sunrise, but not quite noon. As I began rolling up the ground blanket, the full realization of what I had done began to sink in. I did not have the slightest idea as to how long I would stay or what it would solve. After I had roughly shoved the bundle into the pack I began to rummage through it for something to eat. I was still angry with myself when I pulled out an apple, and sat near to the pool, my back resting against one of the boulders that circled it. I took a bite of it, but it now seemed dissatisfying, no matter how hungry I was. I had to struggle with myself not to throw it away, partially eaten into the trees. I would need to ration all that I could.

The same nagging question rose in my mind once more. How long did I plan on staying? I took another bite from the apple. A trail of juice dripped down my arm and disappeared into my sleeve. I turned the thought over and over in my head. Once I returned home I would be forced to give my answer, or they would give it for me. My father could be stubborn, and never took his time when he wanted something done. If I went back today, it would be a matter of weeks, a month at the most before we set out for Lothlorien. It was all far too soon.

By the time I bit down into the bitterness of the core I had the vague outline formulated in my head. I would stay in the wood until I woke up one morning and found that I was ready to move on. I could set up snares around the forest which was abundant with small game. As for shelter I would simply sleep out under the stars every night. The cold weather was over with and if the weather got too bad, I knew of a small rock overhang where I could stay.

I felt much more contented with myself now that I had an idea as to what I was doing. I turned the piece of fruit over in my hand, checking to see if I had missed anything, finding that my appetite had suddenly grown. Disappointed at finding nothing I chucked the apple core forcefully into the nearby trees. I was about to turn back to wiping up the apple juice before it turned sticky, but instead I jumped up almost immediately.

Standing with an apple core at his feet was a man with dark hair. My heart was racing and my legs felt that they could carry me faster than any bird in the forest. Noticing the long sheath that hung from his belt I quickly scrambled over to my pack, finding my knife. I returned to the spot where I had stood before, my knife stuck out in front of me wearily.

"I do no doubt you could hit me with that," the man called over to me. His stance was sturdy, but it seemed to be natural for him, because he looked almost at ease. He was taller than I, by about a head. "You throw a mean apple," he added, trying to be civil. I lowered the knife feeling rather foolish.

"You startled me is all," I said, returning the knife to its sheath, but keeping it tucked in my boot as a precaution. He made his way over to me, slowly. I took a deep breath, feeling almost weary after the panic had slipped away.

"I didn't mean to frighten you," he said standing near the edge of the clearing, leaning against a tree. I sat down opposite him on the boulder I had been sitting against just earlier. By now I could see him much more clearly. His eyes were a gray-blue color. He had rugged features. His forehead was broad and had a strong and defined jaw. His attire was weather worn, and numerous weapons hung from him. He took his pack and quiver off, laying them on the ground.

"You didn't frighten me," I reassured him. Most men she knew would have laughed at this, but he just smiled and nodded.

"And what is a young woman such as yourself doing out here anyhow?" he asked curiously, brushing the hair away from his eyes. I studied him for a moment, until I nearly reached the thin line of staring.

"I'm not as young as you would think. I can take care of myself better than you know," I said feeling defensive.

"I believe you can," he said nodding to me reassuringly. At first I thought he was jesting, but he had a serious face. "May I know your name my lady?" he asked after a few awkward moments.

"And if you had my name, what would you do with it?" I asked him, searching for something witty to say. He laughed and shook his head.

"Can take care of yourself indeed," he added.

Orodreth sat at the table of dark polished wood, his head cradled in his hands. He had been up since the early morning hours. He heard his wife stirring and it was not long before she emerged into the kitchen. She took one look at her husband and sighed deeply.

"She's run off again hasn't she?" Tamuril asked him. Her husband nodded solemnly.

"And this time I fear it will be a while before she returns," said Orodreth. Tamuril went to stand behind him, her hands sat lovingly on his shoulders.

"She'll be all right," she told him reassuringly.

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sorry that this one took me so long. I haven't forgotten though! ;)