The Forbidden Child

The Wondrous Woman

The company had been traveling for a few days and the worry of the Ringwraiths drove them forward constantly. The hobbits were growing weary for the day and Lessien's father seemed to have no intention of stopping anytime soon.

"Strider, we must stop," Lessien insisted. "These hobbits will surely faint from exhaustion if we do not."

Aragorn grimaced. He knew they had to slow down, in fact he was leading them to a checkpoint, but he was uneasy about the idea.

In an exasperated voice he announced, "Come along hobbits, just up this hill and we will arrive to the ancient Weathertop, the abandoned watch tower of Amon Sul."

The structure was as tall hill with ruins on top. It was eerie and yet the hobbits were grateful for the break nonetheless. They hurried forward eagerly. Lessien and Aragorn shared a glance, smiling slightly. Exhausted indeed.

They settled in a comfortable divot carved out of the hill right beneath the ruins that protected them from the elements and discomfort of the open night. It provided shelter.

When the small company had hunkered down, Frodo immediately slumped against the nearby stone wall, falling into an uneasy sleep, muttering restlessly in his slumber.

The other three hobbits seemed rather alert, talking amongst themselves.

Aragorn walked up to Lessien and told her, "I am going to scout out. Be alert, for we are not yet safe from the Nazgul."

When he was out of sight, Lessien approached the hobbits and knelt in front of them.

They seemed to quiet when Lessien was near and she realized that they were fearful of her. They had not seemed that afraid when she had first met them. Their attitudes suddenly agitated her and she felt like bursting out, "Whatever is the matter with you all?" But she did not, luckily for her, because Lessien did not know they were concerned rather than afraid.

It was Merry who approached her. Lessien, who was brooding and boiling angry in her barmaid attire, and asked softly, "Are you wounded?"

Lessien's frustrated countenance dispersed and her eyes softened at the loving question. She had totally forgotten about the blood that covered her. Liliath's blood. "No, I am not hurt," she assured him. Her mind wandered.

"Where is the blood from?" Pippin joined in.

Lessien was so immersed in her thoughts that it took her a moment to reply. She shook her head suddenly, attention returned, and whispered, "There was a girl."

"A girl?" Merry inquired.

Pippin bumped Merry roughly.

"Yes, a girl. She died. They killed her," she said hoarsely.

The two hobbits' faces drained of blood. They went pale and began murmuring.

Sam, this time, was the one to hush them this time. "Quiet! She tells us these things because two fools like you do not understand the evil of those beings! Didn't you feel them?" He was getting genuinely angry, Lessien could tell.

"It is of no matter, Sam," Lessien assured him.

The hobbits quieted.

Sam reached out and pressed Lessien's hand. "I see you're unhappy, Larahliea. Go along with Strider and clear your pretty head. We should be alrigh' for a moment or so."

Lessien pursed her lips. "I will be right along back," she promised before getting up and leaving.

Lessien left the hobbits behind, climbing further up the watchtower to breathe some more fresh air, feeling unbearably suffocated. She perched on a rock, unsheathing a dagger and spinning it between her fingers, looking out into the darkness.