Disclaimer: May Tolkien rest in peace and forgive me for the flagrant use
of his stories for the creation of my own!
A/N: Sorry for the delay, but I had this very serious lack of time due to the back-to-school business besides authors block. But this is my longest chapter yet, and things are looking much better now. :-)
Chapter 5
Erin's cheeks were wet and streaked by tears; she had many bruises and several long scratches, including a rather nasty one that was still bleeding. Except for the long, dark hair that as always fell messily over her face, it was hard to believe it was really her. The laughter in her voice was dead, as well as in her eyes. "Erin, don't lie to me again and tell me- who did this to you?" Imrel demanded. She merely shook her head and fled away.
When he made to go after her, a strong hand held him back. "Don't go now," someone whispered to him. Imrel turned and saw the prince standing there, keeping him from going after her. "Let me go, Legolas." "Not yet. If you really care about her, then show a little respect for her feelings." They stared at each other, conversing by sharing their thoughts, as elves will do at times.
Just then, a few of the female elves came over to haul Legolas back to the party. Laughing, they reminded him that this gala affair had been made in honor of his return. Imrel needed no more help than that. Looking back only once to make sure no one noticed him leaving after her, (something rather unnecessary) he slipped away.
...Erin ran down the halls, without paying attention to where she was going. All she wanted was to get away from the merry gathering in the Great Hall, but most of all, to get away from the look of grief that mingled with pity in Imrel's eyes. She could bear many things, but pity was one thing she wouldn't accept from anyone, under any circumstances. True, she was a sad sight, all bruised and beat up. But that didn't mean she had to accept anyone's pity, she thought angrily.
She was beginning to feel short of breath and looked back; seeing no one was following her, she stopped. She looked at her surroundings, and recognized a hall adjoining the one that led to her room, and decided she might as well go back and get her face cleared up.
After pouring water into the basin by her bedstead, she took a small towel and dampened a corner of it. Gentle and careful as she was, she couldn't help but cry out in pain the moment she touched her face. The pain was so intense tears began to flow down her face once more, and she began to recall all that had happened that morning to bring her pain, bringing back also feelings of grief, loss and anger that intensified her crying.
The feel of a soft, cool hand on her shoulder finally stopped her outburst of tears. She took a deep breath and turned her head. Imrel was standing there looking down at her, his face filled anew with grief and pity, but his eyes also showing a compassion for her she hadn't seen before in anyone else's.
Gently, he took the towel from her hand. Erin winced fearfully when she saw his hand draw near, and he whispered softly, soothingly, "Don't worry, I won't hurt you". She gave him a small, apologetic smile, "I know. Or at least I should have known." She was surprised by the lightness of his touch, which was so gentle she felt no pain at all as he helped her clean her face, except for a light stinging feeling whenever he touched her scratches.
He took a seat beside her, reached for her hand and gave it a little squeeze before he asked, "You won't cry anymore, will you?" She raised her head then to look at him, as it had been slightly bowed down in shame at the thought that she had needed to be helped by him. She wasn't a proud person- well, at least not that proud- but she felt very embarrassed nevertheless. She hated feeling so helpless and defeated.
Finally, she gave him a soft smile. "No, I won't cry anymore." Imrel, relieved, noted she sounded more like herself again. Near gone were the gruff, low, deep tones of sadness. But she was still weak as water, as she had received many a hard blow that day, not only physically, but emotionally as well, he realized. He also noted how exhausted she was, but knew that she would be wary.
The crazy urge to comfort her he had felt since the moment he set eyes on her finally overcame him, and he wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders. Usually, Erin would have shoved it off, since she wasn't a very affective person, and even as a child had disliked having someone so close to her, but somehow with him it felt right. She felt safe with him, safer than she could remember ever having felt before.
They rocked on the bed together a few moments before she leaned her head against his chest and closed her eyes. She didn't really want to rest there, but it was a comfortable place to be after a long day, and she didn't want him to go just yet. He began to sing softly to her in an elven tongue, most probably Silvan or Sindarin, which he knew best. She couldn't understand a word he said, but it was soothing, like floating in a sea of warmth and comfort, and she finally fell asleep in his arms.
Imrel looked down at her, and it finally hit him how his father could have fallen for a mortal. In spite of her bruises, she was strikingly beautiful, her large eyes framed by long dark lashes, her pale, oval shaped face framed by long, silky dark tresses. Like most elves, he used to consider humans inferior beings; brief, homely and weak. But for all that, she was more precious to him.
Moving very gently as not to wake her up, Imrel laid Erin on the bed and tucked the blankets in around her. Softly, he kissed her brow and slipped away.
A/N: So there you go, the long-waited-for Chapter 5! Now, hit the pretty purple button and make me feel happy after a really bad week, ok? ;-) [wink, wink]
A/N: Sorry for the delay, but I had this very serious lack of time due to the back-to-school business besides authors block. But this is my longest chapter yet, and things are looking much better now. :-)
Chapter 5
Erin's cheeks were wet and streaked by tears; she had many bruises and several long scratches, including a rather nasty one that was still bleeding. Except for the long, dark hair that as always fell messily over her face, it was hard to believe it was really her. The laughter in her voice was dead, as well as in her eyes. "Erin, don't lie to me again and tell me- who did this to you?" Imrel demanded. She merely shook her head and fled away.
When he made to go after her, a strong hand held him back. "Don't go now," someone whispered to him. Imrel turned and saw the prince standing there, keeping him from going after her. "Let me go, Legolas." "Not yet. If you really care about her, then show a little respect for her feelings." They stared at each other, conversing by sharing their thoughts, as elves will do at times.
Just then, a few of the female elves came over to haul Legolas back to the party. Laughing, they reminded him that this gala affair had been made in honor of his return. Imrel needed no more help than that. Looking back only once to make sure no one noticed him leaving after her, (something rather unnecessary) he slipped away.
...Erin ran down the halls, without paying attention to where she was going. All she wanted was to get away from the merry gathering in the Great Hall, but most of all, to get away from the look of grief that mingled with pity in Imrel's eyes. She could bear many things, but pity was one thing she wouldn't accept from anyone, under any circumstances. True, she was a sad sight, all bruised and beat up. But that didn't mean she had to accept anyone's pity, she thought angrily.
She was beginning to feel short of breath and looked back; seeing no one was following her, she stopped. She looked at her surroundings, and recognized a hall adjoining the one that led to her room, and decided she might as well go back and get her face cleared up.
After pouring water into the basin by her bedstead, she took a small towel and dampened a corner of it. Gentle and careful as she was, she couldn't help but cry out in pain the moment she touched her face. The pain was so intense tears began to flow down her face once more, and she began to recall all that had happened that morning to bring her pain, bringing back also feelings of grief, loss and anger that intensified her crying.
The feel of a soft, cool hand on her shoulder finally stopped her outburst of tears. She took a deep breath and turned her head. Imrel was standing there looking down at her, his face filled anew with grief and pity, but his eyes also showing a compassion for her she hadn't seen before in anyone else's.
Gently, he took the towel from her hand. Erin winced fearfully when she saw his hand draw near, and he whispered softly, soothingly, "Don't worry, I won't hurt you". She gave him a small, apologetic smile, "I know. Or at least I should have known." She was surprised by the lightness of his touch, which was so gentle she felt no pain at all as he helped her clean her face, except for a light stinging feeling whenever he touched her scratches.
He took a seat beside her, reached for her hand and gave it a little squeeze before he asked, "You won't cry anymore, will you?" She raised her head then to look at him, as it had been slightly bowed down in shame at the thought that she had needed to be helped by him. She wasn't a proud person- well, at least not that proud- but she felt very embarrassed nevertheless. She hated feeling so helpless and defeated.
Finally, she gave him a soft smile. "No, I won't cry anymore." Imrel, relieved, noted she sounded more like herself again. Near gone were the gruff, low, deep tones of sadness. But she was still weak as water, as she had received many a hard blow that day, not only physically, but emotionally as well, he realized. He also noted how exhausted she was, but knew that she would be wary.
The crazy urge to comfort her he had felt since the moment he set eyes on her finally overcame him, and he wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders. Usually, Erin would have shoved it off, since she wasn't a very affective person, and even as a child had disliked having someone so close to her, but somehow with him it felt right. She felt safe with him, safer than she could remember ever having felt before.
They rocked on the bed together a few moments before she leaned her head against his chest and closed her eyes. She didn't really want to rest there, but it was a comfortable place to be after a long day, and she didn't want him to go just yet. He began to sing softly to her in an elven tongue, most probably Silvan or Sindarin, which he knew best. She couldn't understand a word he said, but it was soothing, like floating in a sea of warmth and comfort, and she finally fell asleep in his arms.
Imrel looked down at her, and it finally hit him how his father could have fallen for a mortal. In spite of her bruises, she was strikingly beautiful, her large eyes framed by long dark lashes, her pale, oval shaped face framed by long, silky dark tresses. Like most elves, he used to consider humans inferior beings; brief, homely and weak. But for all that, she was more precious to him.
Moving very gently as not to wake her up, Imrel laid Erin on the bed and tucked the blankets in around her. Softly, he kissed her brow and slipped away.
A/N: So there you go, the long-waited-for Chapter 5! Now, hit the pretty purple button and make me feel happy after a really bad week, ok? ;-) [wink, wink]
