Becoming Aredhel

Chapter Eleven- Thunderstorms and Difficult Conversations

Aredhel's POV

Rain pours down the glass doors of my new chambers. Thunder rumbles distantly, echoing through the emptiness of these walls. It is late into the night and the darkness is suffocating.

I sit with my body pressed against the doors, resting my hot, tear streaked face against the cool glass. I snuggle deeper into the thick, luxuriously soft blanket wrapped around my nightgown-clad body.

Tonight, it was a dream of Papa that woke me up in a fit of choking sobs. Even though it was hours ago, his face is still fresh on my mind, like it has been seared into my brain by hot iron.

Papa enters the house with a grin on his face, ready to tell us something most amusing, but when his eyes land upon Naneth holding me close and stroking my hair as I cry, the smile disappears instantly.

"Whatever happened?" he questions, obviously alarmed.

Naneth sighs over the sound of my sobs. "The ellith in town have been teasing her, darling. I told her it is because Respen has set his eyes on her and they are jealous, but she will not believe it. She insists that Eru has cursed her by making her strange. That is what the ellith said anyway."

Papa sits down beside me on the couch, wrapping his arm around my shaking shoulders. Naneth leaves the room to give us some privacy.

"My darling Aredhel," he whispers, embracing me tightly. He smells earthy, like the sweet-smelling trees of the forest, and I snuggle into his chest, finding comfort in his strong arms that could chase even the greatest of sorrows away.

"May I tell you a story?" he asks softly.

I nod instantly. Papa's stories never disappointed, and I would never be too old to listen to them and learn from them.

"Once there was a small colt. He was tinier than the other horses, and he possessed a timid spirit and the kindest heart that could ever exist. He was pure white, his coat shiny and healthy. The elves in the village favored this colt. They said he would grow to be stronger and faster and better than any other horse they had ever seen."

I sniffle, making him pause for a moment before continuing.

"Well, the other horses did not like him very much. Do you know why?"

"Because the elves favored him." I guess, waiting for him to continue.

"You are correct. The other horses all wished to be the fastest and the strongest and the best. They wanted to be favored by the elves. They longed to have their manes brushed and braided by the elflings and have compliments pouring from the mouths of everyone who laid eyes upon them."

"'The small colt did not care about any of these things. He did not think there was anything special inside of him. He did not want praise or favoritism. He simply wanted friends. He wanted the other horses to like him- to accept him- but they did not. They hated him. They cursed him."

"'One day, when they were all stretching their legs in the pastures, the other horses decided to put a plan they had formed into action. They chased the defenseless colt, and they trampled him like dirt beneath their hooves. They broke his front legs and left him there to suffer."

"'The colt cried out for his mother, but he was found by the stable hands. They cursed their luck, ashamed of the fate of the horse they thought would bring them great fortune. Not bothering to help him, they decided to kill him. Put him out of his misery, they claimed!"

"But a stranger appeared and fought for the horse. He saw the potential in his frightened eyes. He paid an enormous amount of coins for the broken colt, and he set to work healing him. He used elven magic, and the horse's bones sealed and his torn skin and muscles stitched back together in seconds. The stranger smiled and helped the small horse to stand. He stared at the elf in awe, wondering why he would ever help a broken, small creature such as him."