Finding my way Home

Settling in

Summer quickly gave way to fall, and while Melora had only been with Bard and his children for a short while, it felt like a whole other lifetime. There were days when she felt useless and just another mouth to feed. Bard would always assure her that she was not a burden. The children would assure her that they enjoyed her company if they felt her being pensive.

The dreams seemed to come more frequently since she was pulled from the lake. More often than not, she dreamed of heat and burning pain and would wake herself up screaming words she didn't even understand those she could bear because when she woke, there was no pain, her skin was not burning, and there was no immediate danger. On other nights, she dreams of someone just out of her reach; they stand in the shadows, calling Mel with their silken voice. Sometimes, there was a child's voice. She would feel a small hand in hers, but when she looked down, they would be gone. Those nights, she would wake with dried tear tracks, and her heart would hurt. The days she dreamed of a family she could not remember, she threw herself into any chores she could find, and she would take comfort in Tilda's giggles or the banter between Sigrid and Bain. Those nights, Bard and she would talk well into the night. She is afraid to feel the gaping loss in the morning if the dreams come again, and he worries that he is not doing enough for his children since his wife has died.

She remembers the first night her dreams woke her in this strange land. Tears dried, and she sat in the sitting room, staring into nothing. Bard had come home late and was trying to enter the house quietly. She let out a small giggle when she startled him, and he made a noise that resembled a strangled cat. "Sorry if I woke you," he whispered when he righted himself.

"You didn't," she said just as softly, turning to look at him, and that is when he noticed the tears.

"Melora is everything alright," He asks, standing before her.

"A dream is all," Melora brushed his question off. "You must be exhausted. Please don't let me stop you from your routine."

"Would it help if you spoke about your dream?" he asks, " Are you missing your family that you left behind?"

"I don't know if I left anyone behind," Melora said in a matter-of-fact tone, "Before I came to be here, I was in an accident. I had been beaten, burned, and left for dead in a park. The local authorities found me and took me to a hospital. My body healed, but my mind was broken. I didn't know who I was or where I lived when I awoke. They thought I would regain my memories, but I never have. I had to start again. No one came for me; the police contacted other cities to see if anyone reported me missing, and the local news channel told a story. I had to start over. I chose the name Melora because, in my dreams, I sometimes hear someone call me Mel. I don't have anyone I can remember to miss, and no one will miss me." She sighed.
"Melora, I am sorry. I didn't mean to pry," Bard told her.

"It's ok, you took me in. I am a stranger, it is only right for you to ask questions about me. What kind of father would you be if you didn't pry to ensure your children were safe?" She asks.

"I have never thought you would be a danger to my children," Bard assured her
.
"Where I am from, that would have been one of the first thoughts," Melora told him.

From that moment, Bard and she would talk about where she was from on nights that she could not sleep, and he would come in late. It was a comfort, and for the first time since Melora could remember, she felt like she had found a friend.
Bard and his children had taken her in and treated her like their own. Bard sometimes took her out when he left Laketown and taught her about the herbs and plant life she would encounter in the wild. He offered to teach her archery, but she knew that Bard only had one bow, and if she somehow ruined it, she would never forgive herself. Bain ensured she knew how to build a fire; he was the first to teach her how to stoke the stove in the morning. Sigrid showed her how to mend clothes and cook without the modern convenience of electricity. Tilda made her heart smile even on days she felt most discouraged.

As the months passed, her mind wandered. She couldn't help but worry that she would not have a job to go back to once she got back. While she wasn't always thrilled with her employment, it provided the income she needed to afford her house and car payments. When she started down that rabbit hole, she wondered if she would even have a house to return to. Would her landlord find another tenant when she hadn't paid her rent? She was sure that would be the standard practice no matter how good of a tenant she had been. When her thoughts led her to this place, she often wondered if it would be so bad if she were stuck there. She missed modern conveniences like electricity, cell phones, and dash, but at least here she had someone who cared about her and not just because she was good at her job. There wasn't a reason for Bard and his children to keep her around, especially in the beginning. She was, in her mind, practically useless. While she had spent this time with this family, she had been able to hone her skills, and she pitched in around the house quite a bit to feel useful. The only issue about staying in Laketown was that Bard was convinced she was an Elf.

She was careful to keep her ears covered. She hadn't noticed them being pointed back home, but here, there was a prominent point on her left ear. Her right was more rounded, but it had been scarred since her injury, and she was not sure if that was why they were different. Bard told her that elves were quite beautiful from the lore he knew and were a fair race. He said he was not sure about other elves, but the elves of Mirkwood kept mostly to themselves and their affairs. Laketown traded Wine to the elves in exchange for gold, which helped keep the town afloat, but the town's master kept most of the coin for himself. No one in the town questioned that she was related to Bard's late wife; it was not uncommon for relatives to help when someone passed. They didn't ask many questions, which made it easier for Melora to walk around town. The only one who was suspicious was Alfrid, and she quickly learned that he was suspicious of everyone. When she asked Bard if he thought she should seek out the elves of Mirkwood, he would advise that it would be better if she could seek out those in Rivendale or Lothlorien. He stated that based on what he had heard of the elves there, they may be more willing to help.

Sometimes, she would get a sense that she should know something when Bard or one of the children told her about places in the world where she had found herself. It would happen quickly, but then she would lose it again. Rivendale and Lothlorien caused something in her brain to itch, making her think there was something she should know about them or something important she should remember.

She was deep in thought when Tilda pulled on her dress, "Would you brush my hair?" she asked sweetly, holding a comb before her. Melora smiled. "Sure," she agreed as they moved toward a chair. Melora sat and had Tilda sit in front of her, and she started to comb her blonde locks. As she was doing so, she began to plait the girl's hair, her fingers moving swiftly, and then, using a scrap of cloth from beside the chair from her and Sigrids last sewing lesson, to hold it in place. Tilda, reaching up, patted her hair, "You braided it," a smile broke across her face, "is it a fancy elf braid? I thought you said you couldn't braid," she asked.

Melora stared at the girl. She didn't consciously braid her hair; it was more of a muscle memory. Melora went to answer when they heard a commotion coming from the bathroom, and they both held their breath as 14 small men came out complaining loudly.

Melora quickly stepped before Tilda, putting herself between the girl and these strangers. She didn't know if they meant harm but would not take chances. The movement caused her hair, which she had carefully styled to cover her ears, to move, and the Dwarf in the front growled, "An Elf." the other 13 stared at her and then the child.