Disclaimer: Give credit where it's due…you know what belongs to me and what doesn't.
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Lai woke up the next day, rubbing her eyes against the light filtering in through the drawn curtains. She peeled the covers off herself, and brought herself up shakily into a sitting position. She saw that some time during the night, her various cuts and scratches had been treated, along with the deep purple and blue bruises that had sprung up all over her arms and legs. She saw that she was in a white robe, and her feet were bare. She also noticed that her arms and legs (aside from the fading bruises and almost invisible cuts) were clean, as if she had just stepped out from taking a bath in the village springs. Her deep brown hair, sun-kissed with many light highlights, had been washed with something that smelled like her mother's carefully tended flower gardens.
The pain of loss and guilt came upon her fresh without warning, and she gasped as she fell back on her back, tears welling up in her eyes. She shivered violently, and reached with trembling hands for the covers, and wrapped herself tightly in them. The horrible vision passed before her eyes again, and she closed her eyes, trying to shut it out. The vision came to her more clearly than before, shutting out all other things around her, the warmth of the blankets, the sunlight that was seeping in through the curtains, the comfort of the soft bed. She only felt the cold that was now familiar to her, the vivid images of the severed head of her father, the crude crossbow bolts sticking out of her mother's chest, accompanied by the shrieking of her own voice in her head that never seemed to be able to escape through her throat. She twisted in the bed, trying to shake it all from her head.
At last, it passed, and she opened her eyes tentatively, just as the curtains opened and the blue-eyed boy walked in. He looked a lot different from the last time she had seen him, and if it had not been for the way his intense blue eyes fell on her, she would not have recognized him. For one thing, he was clean. Just as she must have been covered with soot and ash, he had been covered with dirt and dark smudges all over his face, arms, and bare feet, clothed in dirty clothes that had been a bit too large on him, patched up in a few places and torn in others. Now, he was wearing a white silky shirt that had elaborate leaf and curving vines embroidery on it with silver thread, and soft green trousers with a mithril belt at his waist, with brown leather boots at his feet. His golden hair, which had been tied back with a strap of leather when she saw him last, was left to settle on his shoulders under a simple circlet of mithril. She suddenly remembered the guard from last night, who had addressed the boy as prince. She had been too troubled to notice its significance then, just as she had no idea where it was that she was being led to. But now, seeing the boy in fine clothes and noting the beautiful surroundings around her, she had a revelation. He must be the prince of Mirkwood! And I must be in the palace of Mirkwood! Lai realized. At realizing this, she closed her eyes.
The boy, whose eyes had lit up at seeing Lai well and awake, walked into the small space, letting the curtain fall behind him. His eyes, now frowning in concern for her unusual behavior, fell on her face.
"I did not mean to alarm you." He started slowly, and Lai heard a slight shifting sound next to her as he lowered himself down onto the chair placed next to her bed. "And I'm glad to see that you woke up. It's been five moons and it's the sixth sun since you fell asleep."
At this, she opened her eyes, and turned her gaze to the voice. The boy, the prince of Mirkwood, she reminded herself, smiled at her when she met his eyes. He was talking to her as if he was talking to an equal, as if he was actually concerned about her. As if he actually cared. She searched within his eyes and found only sincerity and true concern for her well-being.
"Do you feel well enough to walk?" He asked her, his voice soft as if he thought her fragile. It annoyed her, and in answer, she peeled the covers off her again, rising to a sitting position, and swung her legs over. She tested out her legs, making sure that they would hold her weight, and triumphantly rose to her feet. A sudden dizziness overwhelmed her when she did, and she swayed on her feet. When the dark patches cleared, she saw that, to her further annoyance, the boy had kept her from falling and was supporting her upright.
"You will be all right once you get some food in you." He said, grinning at the expression of sheer annoyance on her face. As if in answer, a low growl sounded from Lai's stomach, issuing light laughter from the boy.
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She was lying on a beautifully carved, dark wood framed plush bed, wrapped up in soft sheets, in the room that they told her was hers. She surveyed her surroundings, watching with slight disbelief at the luxurious gossamer periwinkle canopy over her head, the silken silvery-white sheets and matching pillows, the bed softer than any bed she had ever laid on. Then she remembered what was beyond the canopy curtains, the window that looked out into the courtyard to her right, where the bedside table, in matching dark wood as the bed, stood. An empty dark wood wardrobe was next to the door on her left, and a dark wood table stood against the opposite wall from the bed, in front of a mirror, with a plush dark blue chair under it. There was a velvet rug portraying a scenic view of a forest on the floor, and soft velvet slippers for her feet next to the bed for her to slip her feet into in the morning so her feet would never have to touch the cold stone floor.
The canopy lifted and someone, upon entering, bowed. "I will be here in the morning, Lady Artuntaure. If you need me during the night, I will be in the room down the hall." It was her own handmaiden, Nenel, who was speaking to her. Then, hearing no reply, the maiden bid her good night and retreated.
Then, left alone, the girl who was now called Artuntaure—since she had not spoken to anyone since the day she saw her parents killed, not even to say her own name—wept into the soft pillows and when she felt no tears come, fell asleep.
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Please review…it doesn't take that long…no really, it doesn't…and it makes the writer very happy…even if they are not compliments…=)
Golden Hobbit- Thanks for reviewing! And I'll definitely read your story…=)Teveldin- Compared to the last one, I guess this is a late update, eh? But since you haven't been on…I guess it doesn't matter much. I miss you, my LotR fan friend! =(