༶•┈┈⛧┈♛Foxgloves and Greenleaves ♛┈⛧┈┈•༶

Chapter 4: Miranna

Instead of hearing my mother screaming or my father shooting arrows past me, a hot, searing pain shoots through my scar and eye. I writhe in bed, doing my best not to wake Legolas. I open my eyes and sit up in a hot sweat. I look over at Legolas, who was not in bed. Instead, a woman sits on the edge in his place, staring out the window.

"H-Hello?" I ask, reaching for my knife. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

She turns around to look at me, revealing a she elf with dark grey hair that tumbles past her shoulders. A thin, silver diadem sat atop her head, sparkling under the moonlight. Her icy blue eyes stare back at me, looking me up and down before she gasps. "Miranna?"

Tears well up in my eyes. "M-Mother?"

"Miranna." she echoes, hugging me. I hug my mother tightly, fearing streaming down my eyes. She pulls away, studying me again. "My darling girl, the years have done you well!"

"Where's father?" I ask, desperately looking around the room for him.

"He rests, dear child. But he cannot wait to see you."

"Mother, don't leave me!" I embrace her again. "Don't go."

"I won't anytime soon, my little foxglove." Her voice then drops to a whisper. "They're coming, Miranna."

It was my turn to pull away. "Who?" Her mouth opens to speak, but a dark stain appears on my mother's blue dress. "Mother, you're bleeding!" I exclaim.

Instead of words coming out of her mouth, an ear splitting scream escapes from her throat and turns into the sound of an orc horn. I wake up in a cold sweat and throw off the covers. They're here.

"Miranna, what's wrong?" Legolas asks, rubbing his eyes. "It's only dawn."

"Orcs." I answer. "They're here."

Screams of villagers piece the crisp morning air as Legolas and I dash to the stables in our disguised selves.

"We must protect the people of the city!" Legolas yells over the chaos, mounting his horse.

"But why?" I yell back in Sindarin, careful to make sure the villagers do not hear the disdain in my voice. Why save the people when our lives matter more?

"They have provided us with hospitality. Now we shall provide them protection in return." He rides to the middle of the town, amidst the screaming villagers. "People of Cerules, evacuate at once!"

I mount Virago and head into the eastern part of the village, intent on saving some helpless villagers.

"We should have split the first chance we had." I mumble. "Virago, I've to take care of some orcs."

"Neigh!" She brays as if to say, 'And?'

"Can you save some villagers for me?"

"Neigh!"

"That's my girl." I smile. "I'll be right back." I leap off my beloved horse and whip around, finding a horde of orcs heading in my direction. The first one howls and points at me. More appear at its side, grunting in a disorganized cacophony. I whip out my mother's knives.

The leader charges towards me, sickle in hand. I duck, twirl to the side, and stab its back. I kick it aside as another one comes. After five or so orcs, a faint cry comes from the other end of town.

"Miranna," Legolas cries. "Miranna!"

That is why we did not split. After puncturing an orc's throat, I whistle for Virago. Her clops grow louder and louder with each second. As she gallops past, I grab the reins and hoist myself up. "Take me to the other end of town, now! Legolas is in trouble."

"Neigh!" The mare gallops past dead orcs and the last of the villagers. She jumps over overturned carts and makes sharp turns. I quickly looked around for Legolas, but he was nowhere to be found.

"To the forest! Quickly!" We finally enter the forest as Legolas's cries grow louder and louder. But before I could even tell Virago to hurry once more, a force behind me grabs my hood, pulling me off my mare.

"Virago!" I scream. "Save Legolas."

I look to find an orc holding me by the hood of my cloak, grinning sickly at me with teeth like rotted tree stumps.

"There ya are! Tryin' to hide from us, aren't ya?"

"I don't have time for this." I mutter. With a cry, I slice off his arm, freeing me from his grasp. He roars in pain, and I take this as a chance to escape. I dash through the forest as quickly as I could, sprinting through branches and leaping over logs. I scurry up a steep hill and stop at its overlook, panting in exhaustion. I look around again and find Legolas and Virago in a grassy field, surrounded by orcs.

I considered my options: attack while being outnumbered or follow the orcs as they take them hostage. If I took on all twenty orcs myself, not only would I get killed, but there would still be more to protect Legolas and Virago. If I let them go and hunt them in secret, how long would it be until they eventually take Legolas and my horse for food?

"Did you find the she-elf?" The smallest orc asks the orc who grabbed my hood.

"No." He growls. "But she got my arm."

"Should we take them to the Master?"

"You mindless oaf! What will he do with a stupid horse?"

Anger blossoms inside of me. How dare he insult my horse when his own stupidity was beyond comparison?

"What else can I do?" I asked myself as my hand instinctively reached to my back. I paused, realizing what I was doing. No, I couldn't. I couldn't use that-

I lied about my father's sword being the last of him. Not only does the illusion spell hide my scar, but it also hides something else: my father's bow and arrows. After all these years, I refused to use it, let alone look at it. My father died by an arrow, and I refuse to let anyone else die by it too. But what choice did I have? It was either abandon Legolas and Virago, or stay behind like a coward. And I refuse to live like a coward.

I unstrap my father's bow, carved with beautiful vine patterns and leaves. I nock an arrow and aim for my first target.

"Father, forgive me, but I have no choice." I whisper to no one in particular. I draw the string back, close my right eye, and breathe. I shoot the first arrow.