Alas, For Captains No Hope.

Chapter 7

Alas, For Captains No Hope

Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything besides the story, the plot and the OCs. The rest is all the work of J.R.R. Tolkien. Hannon Le for creating this wonderful world!

“There you are!” Faervel called out to him. “I was sickly worried about you! How could you do this to me, pen neth? I was afraid something happened!” To an average elf this sounded well meant and honest. To Celeblasson those words were nothing more than lies and more lies. Faervel knew that he had been avoiding her. But since it was suspicious not to act worried, she simply lied to strengthen her reputation of a lovely elleth whom cared about elflings. This reputation was once true, but was nothing more than a lie at this point.

“I am sorry.” He told her. His eyes were focused on her shoes and the grass. The last thing he wanted was meeting the now cold eyes. “How could I be mad at you, tithen pen?” She responded in a sickly sweet voice. It made him want to throw up on her gross, green shoes.

Her lips met his cold forehead. She slowly pushed him into the house before she closed the door, as softly as she could in her current mood. After several moments of silence, she finally hissed at him between clenched teeth. “You unmannered elfling! How could you?!” No longer was she the image of a sweet guardian. Now she was Faerval, the broken elleth whom they called his guardian.

“I do not know.” He softly answered while he shrugged. “You do not know?” She asked him with a frustrated expression. “The elfling simply 'doesn't know'! Ha, I am sure you perfectly know how. You...” She paused in order to think of a good insult. When she couldn't think of one, she stormed out to the connected room.

Celeblasson let out an exhausted and irritated sigh before shoving it off for the usual routine. He turned to the opposite direction they stood in and made his way over to the kitchen. There he grabbed a fresh, red apple from the fruit bowl and took a bite. The juice of the apple instantly hit his taste buds, causing him to nod in satisfy. “Mmm! That tastes good...” He mumbled in joy before plopping down onto the couch. Even though Faerval had turned blind to the beauty of the world, she still knew to identify a good fruit.

The next morning things hadn't gotten much better. Faerval had refused to get up in order to make the elfling breakfast, which left him to make it himself. After finally making a successful slice of bread with strawberry jam from the garden, he left in a hurry to school. Glessil might've let the fact that he came late slip through the fingers, the archery master definitely wouldn't. He did not give him penalty rules, but nasty tasks around the training field. Nothing's worse than picking up arrows from the ground while the novices were still shooting!

Celeblasson arrived just on time; The archery master had only lined up the elflings. When he moved into the line, he did however receive a first class glare in his direction. It was better than a punishment! He thought to himself.

All went well till the moment he was alone and vulnerable – the moment he was send to fetch water in the bathroom for the weapon master. Several first year novices had spotted him on his way and instantly followed him. Upon reaching the room, Celeblasson noticed them. But alas, he was too late. With a heavy force, he was pushed in the room and thereafter locked up with the older elves.