Chapter 9

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After a breakfast brought up to our rooms, me and mother prepare for our trek back home. Already dressed, I make my way to the closet and open the door. I look at myself in the mirror for a quick second, the begin putting a braid along the top of my head, like a crown. After tying it off, I pull the bottom of my hair into a loose knot, not wanting the ends getting caught on things in the forest.

After fixing my cinnamon colored hair, I put on my belt of daggers and sling my quiver over my back, grasping my bow in my right hand. I slip on my shoes, tying the laces of the boots tight, and get up to walk out of the door. Before my hand reaches the knob, I hear the sound of voices outside of the door. One of the voices I recognize as my mother's. I press my ear to the door, tuning in to the conversation.

"Tauriel, you mustn't leave" a voice says; I recognize it to be the elf my mother calls Legolas. "I still care about you Tauriel" he confesses. I can only think what mother is thinking right now. Her childhood friend still loves her after she has been married. "Legolas I care for you to, but as a friend. We have been side by side since childhood, and you have always been my best friend" mother says, a hint of worry in her tone. "Tauriel, I love you" he says, "can't you see you were meant to be with me instead of that dwarf?!". "Legolas" she says softly, "I'm leaving. And I love Kili with all my heart. I love you to, but I never have and never will in that way".

I sit there for a few seconds, amazed at what just happened. I hear quick footsteps down the stone halls, and mothers deep sigh. She places a few light, soft knocks on my door. "Areth" she calls out. Not wanting her to know I was eavesdropping, I wait a few seconds before opening the door. "Are you ready to go" she questions, and I nod in reply. I take a quick look back into my room, silently thanking the elves for my lovely quarters that I had spent my two nights in Mirkwood in. I softly close the doors and we start back through the halls.

When we reach the outdoors, I see there is an overcast sky, with dark grey clouds coming in from the north. It appears as though it will start raining soon. We pass over the stone bridge leading into the forest, mother wearing a troubled expression on her face. I knew what had happened this morning with Legolas was troubling her, but I said nothing of it. After venturing a bit deeper into the forest, I hear the low tumble of thunder. The forest has a dreary, depressing look about it in this weather, unlike the mysterious beauty I saw when it was sunny out. Minutes later, I hear the start if raindrops falling into the leaves of the trees in the forest.

We continue marching on though the forest, and the rain starts to drip it's way through the thick foliage onto the forest floor. Soon enough, the rain starts to pick up, the sound of raindrops on leaves becomes louder. I start to him a song to myself, a song father had taught me when I was younger.

"Far over the Mist Mountains cold,
To dungeons deep & caverns old,
We must away ere break of day
To seek the pale enchanted gold.

The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,
While hammers fell like ringing bells
In places deep, where dark things sleep,
In hallow halls beneath the fells.

For ancient king & elvish lord
There many a gleaming, golden hoard
They shaped & wrought, and light they caught,
To hide in gems on hilt of sword.

On silver necklaces they strung
The flowering stars, on crowns they hung,
The dragon fire, in twisted wire
They meshed the light of moon & sun.

Far over the Misty Mountains cold,
To dungeons deep & caverns old
We must away, ere break of day,
To claim our long forgotten gold"

I was about to start humming the next verse, but the roar of water falling and hitting leaves because so loud I couldn't hear myself, so I went through the lyrics in my head. We kept on walking, knowing we must keep going in fear of father becoming to worried of our whereabouts. Mother seldom looked back to see if I was following her, to distracted about the happening of the morning to worry about me much.

I was soaked to the bone; my flowing white shirt sticking to my skin and my leather corset darkened with water. My pants were heavy with water and my socks were soggy from the water that had seeped through my boots. My hair stuck to my face and hung in a stringy mess down my back. I was already in an uncomfortable state, with legs hurting from walking and very cold, as I had not brought anything warm because I had not expected this rain.

Looking out in other directions, I suddenly had a feeling we were being watched. Mother did not see to notice, and her senses never fail, but I was still not at ease. I could swear that there was something out there, staring at us through the forest, hidden behind tree trunks or perched in the boughs. I placed my right hand on one of the daggers on my belt, ready to fight off anything that might be lurking in the shadows. I walked for a couple more minutes, still pressed with the feeling of eyes on me. I kept scanning my surroundings carefully, looking through the rain to see if I could sight anything.

After seeing nothing I took a deep breath and closed my eyes tightly for a quick second. "There is nothing out there" I said to myself. "You are merely nervous about the weather and being in a place so foreign to you". I took another deep breath and opened my eyes, focusing on mother and trying not to let them nervously wander around me. I could have sworn I heard a crack of a branch though the roaring rain, but I kept my nervousness at bay and looked straight ahead.

All of a sudden a searing pain shot up and down my left leg, like a fiery blaze consuming my limb in its flames. A high pitched gurgling noise came from my throat as mother wheeled around, her hair following her head and her eyes widening in horror when they settled on me. The pain seared up my hips and my spine, causing me to double over in pain, gasping for air and clenching my teeth and fists until my knuckles turned white. I looked down to see something protruding from my lower thigh, almost at my knee. An arrow. And not just any arrow. The roughly crafted shaft and black feather fletching was crafted by nothing other than those foul creatures I hated most. Orcs.

I contort my muscles in pain, only making the wound burn worse. I shriek in pain, grabbing my leg and screaming. I try standing up to run away, only to be dragged back down by the fierce pain. I scream and writhe on the ground, clutching the arrow, counting to three in my head and ripping it out of where it is embedded in my leg. I let out one last cry, until the pain becomes to much and the edges of my vision gets dark and fuzzy. The darkness cover my eyes as I squeal in pain, then everything goes black.

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AN- Thanks for almost 500 reads!!! Doesn't seem like much to many but I thought nobody would read it haha... Thanks to my loyal readers!

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