Elerrina

Picking up the Pieces

Silence lingered in the air like a cold ghost and, for a moment, all that reached her ears was the loud thumping of her heart. Even the constant rain pouring heavily outside had lost its sound to her, becoming only an empty echo in the background. She did not know how long she had remained waiting in her hiding spot inside the cabinet, it felt like hours but she knew it must have been only minutes. The cold grip of darkness had become welcoming to her, somehow feeling more soothing than the well-lit house outside.

Taking a deep breath, Elerrina slowly stepped out of the wooden cabinet, the ring in the thin chain gripped tightly inside her palm. The room outside was dark, same as when they had come rushing, except that now it was only she. There were no orcs. No Elf-Lord. She looked around the room for the first time as she slowly placed one foot in front of the other towards the large door. Dark shadows traced the shapes of furniture around the room, its colors reduced to darks shades of blues in the lack of light. There was a bed, not a large one, and a couple of chairs. There were more cabinets like the one in which she had hidden, and a small bedside table upon which rested some cups and funny instruments. It looked like a room in a Healing Wing.

Two shapes lay sprawled dead on the floor, the sickly grayish color of the skin making shivers run down her spine. Two orcs. So Lord Elrond had managed to take down two of them. A glint of silver caught her eye, and she noticed the shiny shape of a long, sharp sword, dropped carelessly on the ground, a beautiful silver circlet not far from it. Quickly she turned her gaze away from them, concentrating on the door. She could not look at those objects.

Outside the house felt empty, lifeless, despite the warm fires lighting the many hallways. It did not take her long to reach the massive staircase that led to the main hall. Elves rushed all around the house, gathering the nasty bodies of the dead orcs and caring for the injured. Her eyes darted about the hall, not really paying close attention to any of them, and they seemed not to have noticed her. There was no sight of the twins or Glorfindel. Not even Legolas.

Three elves rushed through her right, gently carrying a limp body. Dark hair fell from the unconscious elf's head, which hung lifelessly as he was carried away, his eyes closed in mortal sleep and she could see his gentle features glowing at the candlelight. She did not know the elf, but could not help her eyes from staring, shaken. Silently she hoped he still lived. She wished she could feel pain, sadness, grief, despair, anything. But she felt nothing, only cold emptiness.

Elerrina crossed the hall in long steps, looking to her sides searching for a familiar face. She walked down the steps that descended into the main courtyard, the rain pouring down on her, sticking her golden hair to her face and brushing away the trails of dry tears on her cheeks.

More dead orcs lay on the muddy grass, and elves also moved around the courtyard, taking their injured back into the house, away from the cold and wet. It seemed the battle had been greater outside the house than inside. The elves had tried to prevent the nasty creatures from entering.

Her eyes searched around, blinking through the rain that cascaded down her lashes, until they fell on a dark figure sitting on the wet ground, leaning against a tree trunk. Her heart raced in relief as she saw long strands of wet dark hair frame a very familiar, handsome face. It was one of the twins.

Her feet raced towards the dark haired elf, the mud sticking to her long dress, but she did not care. She could see the efl's face better as she drew closer, and a pair of liquid silver eyes shot up to meet her as his elven ears heard her approach. Her heart jumped inside her chest and she felt as if a great pressure had been liberated from her, letting her breath once more. It was Elladan. She felt a knot in her throat as tears of relief threaten to fall from her eyes.