I woke up groaning early on. That seems to be becoming a regular habit. I turned to the only clock beside my bed and squinted at the time. 7:30. I groaned again. It was too early to be up on a day like this, a day where everywhere you go you will be stared at, and gossiped about, and hated by the general public.
I try and force myself back to sleep, but with no avail. I'm groaning loudly when Beririel enters the room an hour later to help me get dressed.
"My lady?!" She cried softly, rushing to me.
"Its Raina," I correct moving my head from out of the pillow "I'm not a lady where I'm from. And my wound really hurts." I pout slightly
I put on my spare glasses as she moves to the foot of the bed. Gently, she turns me on my side and unpeeled the bandage. She's silent. "What's wrong?" I say after a while "Has the infections spread?!"
She looks up to me and smiles
"It's healed. My lady its healing."
I breathe a sigh of relief.
"Things are always usually worse on the second day then the first."
She redresses it as quickly as last night, and then helps me out of bed. I apply all the weight on my left leg as she helps me remove my nightgown and replaced it with a green off the shoulder dress with white ruffles round the top edge and silver patterns trailing down to the floor. She re-braids my hair, weaving in shiny green strands of ribbon, and finishes off by handing me some shoes.
"It's okay." I hold out my hand and retrieve my black trainers. Beririel peers at me, obviously disagreeing with the combination of a dress and trainers, but I don't mind. I'd prefer them any day.
As I slip them on, a knock sounds at the door. I look up as Arwen reappears in the door frame.
"Good morning." She says, as I shove my foot inside. My hands reach for the laces and begin tying them up gently. She stands in front of me as I finish, and I rise up to her level, though she is about an inch taller than me, even though I'm 5"9.
Bewildering me, Arwen draws me in a light embrace. "Did you sleep well?"
I shrug.
"Better than nothing."
She smiles comfortingly at me.
"Le fael Beririel, you are dismissed."
As the door closes behind Beririel, Arwen turns to me.
"I've come to take you to the dining hall. Breakfast is being served."
I nod, tapping my hand on my thigh.
"The Dining Hall...." I trail off.
Where I insulted one of the most skilled archers known to man. Where everyone that suspects me of murder is now gathering. Arwen wants me there. I breathe heavily.
She notices my change in demeanour.
"Do not fear Raina. No one will attack you, if they do, they will risk my father's and Gandalf's wrath, and trust me, no one wants to do that."
I nod. That still doesn't mean they'll trust me though. Or that they'll respect me.
Arwen offers me her arm, and, with no choice, I take it. We leave the room and travel a long corridor, then we take a right, and go up the same stairs Aredhrel carried me up yesterday. It's not long before we are standing outside and I'm clenching my dress anxiously, the long white sleeves brushing against my knuckles. Arwen sees me fussing "You will be fine." Arwen smiles "I will walk you to the table where you can get some food. You do not have to stay, just eat your food and be gone."
I feel my eagerness grow slightly "You have buffets here too?" I ask
"What's a buff...?"
I break the word down, sounding it out.
"Buff. And then fay. It's like this big selection of food, and then you can choose your own from it."
"Well..." She tilts her head to the side, pondering "yes we do too."
"Awesome!"
She smiles at me fondly "Are you ready?"
I shrug.
"As I'll ever be."
Arwen walks forward in front of me and opens the doors, before turning and reoffering me her arm again. I take it glad at being able to have someone to squeeze for comfort. All eyes are averted onto me as I walk in, somewhat awkwardly.
As we make our way, I hear somebody scoff loudly. I look over in the direction of the dwarves, one is laughing to himself in a small group, three others snickering beside him too.
My cheeks are on fire. I look around the room, self-conscious and anxious, noting everyone's blank gazes, wondering of their opinions of me.
As we continue to make our way to the buffet table, which is smaller and a little way away from the dining table, the eyes still linger. I notice Legolas, murmuring to Aragorn in a corner, and Sam, who is still at that buffet table, shying away from me, plate clenched in his hands.
When our backs turn, a quiet hum of chatter reappears, and I'm finally able to focus on the food instead of the animosity. They have bacon, eggs, bread, oh and tea. A good old-fashioned English breakfast isn't one without tea. I wonder what kind they have. Do they even have kinds? Breaking me from my thoughts, Arwen speaks.
"I will leave you here then." She tells me.
"What about you?" I ask.
"I'm not hungry." She tells me and it's at this point I see Aragon also leave the room. I tap my nose, grinning.
"Oh not hungry are we then eh?" I snigger
Even though she's way older than me, I just make out her blushing...slightly.
"Just enjoy your food." She says, smiling.
I turn back around to the table as she follows Aragorn outward. I move down along the table, contemplating choices, but accidentally bump into Sam. He gasps and drops his plate which clangs on the floor and draws several sharp gazes. "Sorry." I say picking it up and holding it out to him.
"T-that's all right ma'am." He quivers "You keep it." He smiles nervously and hurries away.
I groan softly, face palming. Well, the plus side is, I didn't even have to fetch my own plate. I start stockpiling, eggs, bacon and bread when I feel a tap on my shoulder and hear a small thud. I turn around puzzled..to find Pippin the hobbit, his red head bobbing, dressed in simple elven clothes like me.
"Pippin!" I hear an impatient whisper from a voice that sounds so familiar. I look straight behind him to find Merry hiding behind the chair Elrond was sitting at yesterday.
"Hello. I'm Peregrin Took, but my friends call me Pippin." He sticks out a hand to me. Eyes pierced, I question his motives before I grasp his warm small hand and shake.
"I'm Raina Williamson, but my friends call me Rains."
I hear another whisper and look back. Pippin follows my gaze before he leans in and whispers to me.
"My Merry's a bit frightened of you, but I trust you just fine."
"Why is that?"
"Gandalf."
I nod understandingly
"If you truly were bad, he would've done something by now."
Another whisper. Pippin points behind him.
"He's very scared."
"Is that so?" I grin mischievously "Tell him to come out, I won't bite."
Pippin turns and shouts rather loudly, waving.
"It's all right Merry, she's friendly!" He points to me and I wave.
Awkwardly, trying to ignore the gaze of others, Merry tip toes over here.
"Errm...Meriadoc Brandybush at your service ma'am." He bows slightly
"Raina at yours."
"Err, Pippin we have to go do our thing..." he says, groping for his friend's arm and pulling him away.
"Thing? What thing? We haven't had our fourths yet. I'm only on my second round of breakfast ."
"You know..." Merry murmurs impatiently, before smiling at me, afraid. I nod, amused "that thing that Gandalf needs our help with."
Pippin finally seems to get the hint.
"Oh that thing." He smacks his forehead "Sometimes I'm so forgetful."
He begins to submit to Merry's tugging and pulling.
"Well, I'll see you at lunchtime Raina, or maybe you'll see me later." He calls, getting further and further away. "As you can see Merry-"
But the door slams behind them, cutting off his last sentence. In spite of it all I laugh to myself. Merry and Pippin were hilarious. They're two of the best hobbits ever known, and I can only name a few.
I turn slightly to scrap butter onto my bread, and find Pippin there again.
"Oh! Don't do that Pip!"
"Sorry. As you can see, he really doesn't trust you." He explains, referring to Merry, who stood impatiently by the door.
"Pippin!" Merry whisper-cried.
"But don't worry, I'm sure he'll come around." Pippin smiles, dismissing the matter
"Me too."
"Later on, we're all going for a walk by the river, do you want to come?"
I move to accept, but remember how the other hobbits treated me.
"I'd be delighted, but I don't know if I'd be welcome."
"Nonsense! Once the others know how nice you are, I'm sure you'll be just as welcome, as if you were hobbit yourself. So, what do you say?"
"Okay." I smile.
"Great. See you then." He grins toothily and then runs back to Merry shouting "I'm coming Merry don't panic."
I laugh as Pippin joins Merry, who practically hauls his friend out of there. I finish scraping butter onto my bread, and, trying to avoid the ever-present stare of Legolas, I sit down at the dining table, and begin to eat my food.
Gandalf and Elrond seem to be about the only people here that fully trust me, I can even sense some slight discomfort from both Aragorn and Arwen.
The dwarves regard me with utter contempt; the elves pretend indifference but display prejudice; the men are anxious; the hobbits terrified, well, all except Pippin. Let's not even get started on the death stares Leggy throws my way.
In fact, he's doing it now. My cheeks are heating up, and I slowly lift up my eyes to see him leaning against the wall, watching intently for any wrong move, his blue eyes cold and hard. He notices me looking back, but doesn't care and continues to stare threateningly at me.
Distracting me, the doors bang open and in walks Boromir. Once he sees me, he double takes.
"What is the traitor doing here?" He asks, pushing dark blonde hair out of his eyes "and feasting so merrily it would seem."
My cheeks' temperature rises. Not again. Some footsteps follow his and in walks Gimli, axe in tow, his long dark beard brushing past his stomach.
"That, lad, is what I'd also like to know."
Gee. So much for common courtesy.
Gimli shakes his head at me, muttering in dwarvish and Bormoir nods understandingly. The Steward of Gondor then walks over to the table with the food and says loudly:
"I don't like traitors." Gimli joins him. "I think any one of them, should have their head, skewered on a stick."
"Here, here." Gimli agrees.
I can hear every word. They know I do. My cheeks are on fire, my palms sweaty. I stand up, my plate accidently slamming on the table. Everyone looks at me. I look at them, growing more embarrassed and emotional by the second.
I begin to make my way to the door, as Arwen returns with Aragorn. She picks up on my despondency. "What is the matter?" She asks me softly
"I think I'll go outside." I say, trying my hardest not to cry in front of her.
She nods in understanding, and gives my hands a gentle squeeze before letting go. I leave the room, but then double take back round. I forgot the most important thing..I grin mirthlessly. There's no way I'm leaving my food behind. I don't wanna look back and think, 'I could've eaten that.'