Lira.....is not in a good mood

I woke up to a chilly gray sky that promised rain, and poked my head out of the tent I lay in to stare at it. I felt much improved, but still rather weak. As it turned out, one of the orcs had hit me rather hard in the side, but in the excitement of the fight, I hadn’t thought it more than a bruise, and so had been as surprised as Aniron when it broke upon later, after the fight.

No one was in sight. I craned my head farther out, and looked around for Rosriel or Ella, or Vila. Or Aniron. But I couldn’t see anyone. I sighed, and lay back, staring bleakly into space. There was nothing I hated more than not being able to move, get up, walk. I hated being dependant on others, who always forgot about me. And of all things, I hated being left alone most. It was always the secret fear that hid itself beneath everything I said, did.

And now I was alone. I always ended up alone. And Vila wasn’t even here. I wanted Vila. I didn’t want Aniron. I didn’t want him to see me being so weak and childish.

I curled up sulkily, my side suddenly hurting more. Stupid, stupid orcs!

I heard footsteps suddenly, and peeked out of the tent. It was Aniron, and he had Elladan and Elohir with him. Good, maybe they could do something about my stupid wound.

“Lira. You’re awake,” Aniron said, surprised.

I turned my head away and refused to acknowledge his existence.

“I wouldn’t have left you without telling you if you’d been awake,” Aniron said, thinking I was angry. I let him go on thinking that. It was better than for him to realize I’d been crying. I hated crying.

Elohir cleared his throat slightly, and Aniron stepped aside. The two busied about my wound, and when they were done, I felt much better. And the fact that I’d managed to wipe the tears off my face without any of them noticing also helped restore my good mood.

“Where’s Vila?” I asked Aniron.

“I haven’t seen her,” he answered, and I frowned angrily. Some sister!

“Ella, then? What about Rosriel?”

“I saw Rosriel just a little while ago. She was with a newcomer who seems to have joined our fellowship,” he answered. But he looked away while he was speaking.

“And Ella?” I pressed, suddenly suspicious.

He exchanged quick glances with Elladan and Elohir, and they shook their heads just slightly. They were hiding something from me. I tried to sit up.

“Has she been hurt?? I haven’t seen her since the orcs attacked! Has she—she isn’t—?” my voice choked up, and I couldn’t question them further.

“No, no!” Aniron assured me hastily. “She made it through the fight without any injuries. She’s quite well.”

“Then what?” I practically screamed, and Aniron grimaced.

“She’s—gone,” he said, without looking at the twins, who looked disapproving.

“What??!!!” I couldn’t have heard him right. I tried to get up.

“Hold her down!” I heard one of the twins hiss, and Aniron pushed me firmly back down, where I lay trembling.

“She left last night,” he said quietly.

“B-but w-why?” I whispered, feeling the tears coming despite myself.

He was still holding me down, and I closed my eyes and pretended he was embracing me. It helped, but I hardly hold back a snicker when I wondered what Elladan and Elohir would think if they knew what I was thinking! Or Legolas…

“I don’t know,” he said gently.

“And without bidding farewell to any of us?” Or had she bid farewell to everyone but me because they didn’t want to disturb me? The thought upset me so much I nearly burst into tears on the spot.

“She left a note for Rosriel.” He hesitated, and then added, “Rosriel is very upset as well.”

I pushed the tears back, and stared with an unfriendly look as I could manage at the twins, until they took their leave. Aniron stayed.

“I’m sorry, Lira. You’re not the only one hurt by her leaving like this.”

I pretended not to hear, and folded my arms tightly, pulling away from him. Now that the shock had faded, I was beginning to be angry at Ella. That was easier. But some of his words sank in, and I looked at him.

“Rosriel is, of course,” I said finally, and he glanced away again.

“Of course,” he agreed. He always looked away from me when he was hiding something. What this time?

“Well?” I said, and he glanced back, startled.

“You’re hiding something,” I accused him. He blinked.

“Legolas seemed quite upset as well,” he said finally.

Legolas?

I couldn’t concentrate for long on this interesting fact, though. My thoughts kept going back to the same thought—How could Ella leave like this? Aniron noticed my distraction, and sat down silently beside me. I grimaced, and he noticed that too. “Do you want me to go?” he said, starting to get up. I did and I didn’t.

“No—yes—oh just stay where you are!”

He sat back down.

“You’re angry, now,” he said, studying my face. I shifted, and turned it away from him, and he was silent.

“Not at you,” I said finally, not wanting him to misinterpret my silence.

“At her?”

“Yes.”

I was silent a moment longer, and then suddenly, words came tumbling out of me.

“I shouldn’t be this angry at her, this hurt…. I know it’s not my fault she left… I know she didn’t leave because of me… not like the others—” I cut my words off quickly. I’d said far too much.

“Do you know why she left?” I said hastily, but Aniron was not so easily distracted. “The others?” he said, a touch of hesitance in his voice, as though he knew he was entering unknown territory.

I didn’t intend to tell him anything, I meant to keep silent or change the subject, but the words just poured out of me.

“I never can keep friends for long. They always leave. They always tell me I’m crazy and their mothers don’t want them to be friends with me because I’m always leading them into trouble. It’s gotten so bad that wherever I go, no one, elf or man, girl or boy will even speak to me beyond bare politeness, and their parents are as bad. It’s the same for Vila. Our parents are ashamed of us. They sent us off to Queen Arwen in hopes we could settle down and start anew, but too many people already knew us there, and the ones who didn’t were told by those. So—that’s the real reason we joined this Fellowship. Now you know.”

I wouldn’t look at him.

“Surely, you must be exaggerating,” he said in astonishment. “I am sure there must be some willing to give you a second chance!”

“Or a third, or fourth….” I agreed, not looking at him, and trying to hide the bitter note in my voice. But he did not sound convinced when he spoke.

“You cannot convince me that all are so unkind! There must be some who think kindly of you.”

“And those are the obedient ones who obey their parents and stay away from us,” I agreed.

“But you are only two young elven maids playing pranks!”

“Who would have thought so many people would have taken offence to having their hair died the color of a rainbow?” I agreed. He couldn’t hold back his laughter.

“It started with the fireworks, I suppose,” I said thoughtfully. “And ‘borrowing’ things… and…um, yes. A lot of things. A reputation is a reputation, and it grows in telling.

“Fireworks?” he said. “No, don’t tell me, please. And kidnapping people with curly hair?”

“Oh, that was only a few times.” I brushed the reference off.

“Only a few times…” he said dryly.

I glanced over at him, saw the stifled laughter on his face, and managed a shaky laugh myself.