𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬

𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱

The next morning, the birds seemed particularly cheerful and chatty. They hadn't stopped chirping since dawn, and Lasgalen watched them with a smile as she lay on the bed with her arms relaxed on her stomach, looking out the open window. She glanced up at the ceiling. She felt calmer than the night before. She didn't know why, and she didn't want to think too much about it, to avoid being thrown back into that whirlwind of horrible emotions. She had promised Galadriel one thing: to get up and make an appearance. Even though every fiber of her being longed to stay lying down and alone, she wouldn't stand her friend up.

So, she sat up on the edge of the bed, rubbing her eyes. She needed to wash her face, so she headed to the bathroom to freshen up and brushed her teeth.
She sat down in the chair in front of the bathroom mirror, the same spot where Silwen and Idril had helped her get ready for the first time. She picked up the brush next to the mirror and started brushing her hair while observing her reflection.

Her eyes were no longer dull, irritated by smoke and dirt; her skin, always fair, had regained its delicate amber tone, no longer the grayish hue that had once covered it; her lips, once chapped and cracked from the cold and thirst, were now rosy and soft, just like she remembered her mother's to be; her fingers, which had been dirty, bony, and full of scratches, now appeared long and smooth-skinned; and her hair, the same as her father's, had returned to its vibrant color, no longer tangled, frizzy, broken, and dusty. Suddenly, in place of that pleasant image, Lasgalen saw something else: her face from the time of her captivity, with those shameful, mutilated ears. Terrified, she quickly looked away, turning her face and torso completely to the left. She bent forward, resting her elbows on her knees. Despite knowing that what Galadriel was encouraging her to do through indirect gestures-move forward-was the right thing, after that episode it had become imperative. If she didn't let go of the past, if she didn't allow time and the future to wash away the sticky pain she carried like rain on her body, her past would torture her until it consumed her. And there would be nothing left of either Yesenia or Lasgalen. She thought of her father and how angry he would have been if she had thrown away the gift of life like that. Especially after they had died. It was easy for others to demand. Demand that she put it behind her, make peace with the fact that those men were gone, that she was safe now, and to focus only on the positive. Everything always seems so much easier when it's not happening to you. But Lasgalen didn't know if what had defined her was strength or not. What determines that? Had she been strong for surviving a little more than two hundred years in slavery? Or would she have shown her strength by rebelling without stopping, day after day, even at the risk of being killed? In any case, whether it was a trait of hers or not, the redhead knew she would try: to find the true strength, the real courage, to take the first step, then the second, and the next one after that, hoping that one day she would start running fast again.

Yes, she definitely needed to get out of that room. She stood up and walked toward her wardrobe. When she opened it, she found the same three dresses she had worn during her stay at the palace. One green, one pink, and one turquoise. She opted for the turquoise one, which was characterized by a fine silver chain to wear around her waist. She put on her shoes and, after taking a deep breath, took her first step out the door. She closed her room and headed towards the large dining hall reserved for the inhabitants of the palace and the Training Camp. It was a hall with an extremely high ceiling, held up by four supporting columns. There were many long, majestic wooden tables, with long benches with backs made of the same material. As soon as she timidly crossed the threshold, she immediately began searching for Galadriel, whom she found sitting across from Elrond, in the company of other elves. She walked toward them with a smile, and along the way, she greeted Silwen and Idril, who waved back calmly. As soon as Galadriel saw her, she gave her an open smile. She had the expression of someone who hadn't quite believed the redhead would actually show up. Lasgalen sat down next to the elf, offering a smile to everyone.