Not Forsaken

Chapter 6

"Gandalf," Luliana questioned, "we are not staying here for the night, are we?" She was eager to get out of the Prancing Pony as quickly as possible, now that their meeting was finished. It seemed quieter, but there were still some sinister looking characters hanging around.

"No, my dear," he answered. "This is no place for a young lady such as yourself. Follow me."

Gandalf and Luliana walked back out into the dark night. The rain had slowed some, but it was still muddy, and wet. They came to a house on the other end of Bree a short while later. He knocked on the door, and a kind-faced old man answered the door.

"How can I be of service to you?" He asked. 

"Just two rooms for the night, if you please," answered Gandalf.

They were quickly ushered into a warm, comfortable room, where they were able to hang their soaking wet cloaks near a warm fire, and the kind man escorted them up a short flight of stairs. Luliana was shown to a small room, with a bed and a table. A candle was lit for her, and the man closed the door, leaving her alone. She sat on the bed, running through the events of that night in her mind. She could not help but picture Thorin, his piercing blue eyes, the long, dark locks of his hair...She suddenly felt a rush of warmth shoot through her at the thought of him. I must be getting ill, she thought, unaware of what was stirring in her heart. She laid back on the bed for a moment, meaning only to briefly rest her eyes when she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

--------

Luliana woke with a start. "Where am I?" She said out loud. She looked around her. She was in a tiny room, sunlight just beginning to stream through the small window. It took her a few moments to recall how she got where she was. There was a basin of water on the table next to her, so she quickly washed up, and changed into a clean tunic. She wondered what this new day would hold, now that they had met with Thorin Oakenshield. Gandalf had told him they would meet again in a fortnight, but what would that mean for her? Where was the Shire? She wondered to herself. 

As she pondered, she undid her long braid, and combed it out. It was an arduous task, one that she wished her mother's help with. How she missed her, Luliana thought. It was the every day things that seemed to be the hardest. No. Let's not start this today, she chastised herself. She finished combing out her long locks, and carefully rebraided her hair. She found herself thinking of Thorin's hair, and the two braids that framed his face. Who braided them? What did they mean? She silently wondered. It must have been his wife, she thought, suddenly bitter at the thought, although she knew not why.

Luliana opened her pack, and after digging for a moment, retrieved a small leather pouch. She opened it, and poured its contents into her hand. Among her meager belongings was a single bead, similar to the ones Thorin wore. Her mother had once told her it was made of mithril. Very precious. The bead had tiny blue gemstones embedded into it. This had belonged to her mother. It was a dwarven custom to braid a bead into ones's hair, she had told her, although at the time, Luliana could hardly be bothered with such trinkets. Now, sitting in the morning light on the bed, she wished that she had payed more attention to what her mother had told her. After the orcs had killed all the family she had, Luliana had retrieved this single item from their small home before fleeing for her life. It was all she had left.

Suddenly, Luliana felt completely alone, completely forsaken. The tears she had been holding in began to flow, and she had no reason to stop them now. There was no one to hide from. She buried her face in the pillow on the little bed, and wept. All the years of being alone, all the fear, all the anguish came pouring out of her in bitter torrents. Memories of her parents, their bodies ravaged by the orc filth, burying them beside their small home, fleeing for her life, and running from those memories ever since.

She had no idea how long she cried, drenching the poor pillow, but her tears finally ebbed, and stopped. She washed her face, and gathered her few belongings. She walked out of her tiny little room to find her companion. It smelled of herbs and warm bread in this little home, as that was really all this was. There was a old woman shuffling around the tiny sitting room, humming to herself. "Good morning young lady!" She smiled when she noticed Luliana enter. "Good morning." She smiled weakly back at the woman, hoping suddenly that she had not disturber her with her crying upstairs.

"Sit and I will get you your breakfast, dear." The woman was warm and kind, and Luliana allowed herself to smile brightly back at the woman. "Thank you very much." She sat at the small table in the middle of the room. Gandalf came in through a door in the back, pipe in hand.

"Good morning, young lady. Did you sleep well?" He asked.

"I did," she answered back, "but I'm afraid I fell asleep in my boots." Luliana laughed quietly. She was feeling much better than the previous day. The sun was shining, and it looked as if the rain was finished, at least for the time being. "Gandalf, what of our plans for these next days? What will we be doing before we go to the Shire? Whatever that is," she added, not really meaning to say that part out loud. It sounded a bit rude to her, just the way it slipped out.

"We will speak of that once we are on our way again," Gandalf said, giving her a quick glance that told her to speak no more of it. She quietly finished her breakfast, and gathered up her cloak, now dry.

"Thank you for your hospitality, my good lady," Gandalf said, as he bowed courteously to the old woman. "You are very welcome, as always!" she answered him.

With that, Luliana followed Gandalf out the door.