The Lost Fawn

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Thank you all for such wonderful reviews! I'm actually going to take the time to…ready? Ready? Respond! So the two reviewers better hold onto your hats! I want to say that I really did feel that my decision not to kill Nadia off was a hard one. As I stated before, in the original chapter Elain did kill her. But as I started to think on it, killing Nadia didn't seem like something Elain would do right off the bat! Anyway this is a filler, meaning short, and sweet just to pass time before the history of Elain comes to light for a few members of the Fellowship.

unique0987654321: You really are perceptive! Congratulations you need an award! Thank you very much, I love it too. I can't wait to write it, I'm excited to express all the characters reaction~ it should be interesting.

Brokenmaelstrom: I'm so proud of you! Ha-ha, thank you very much for reviewing on the second chapter in a row! Strangely enough I agree with you~ I really can't wait for Elain and Nadia to meet again. It's going to be a lot different than what people are expecting I can tell you that! It's going to be a party and a half. I think all of the characters are complex, so it should be fun to see who she bonds with and who she avoids. Thanks for reviewing again!

– Ze

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Disclaimer: To… Lazy

†Past/Though/sign†

†Present†

Chapter Nineteen: Stitches and Elves

She worked off her anger; no she didn't sit around and pout. She ran straight to the stables, pushing all of the children out of the stable and getting to work. Snarling at any Rohirrim that attempted to stand up to her, they recognized her as Heorot by the volume of the growl and the small tunic they had seen a few days before. Most of them ducked out of the stable the second the raging girl entered the stable and headed for the wild stallion's stall. The first thing she did was let a feral cry rip from her throat the moment she was alone in the barn, the second was wrap her arms around the stag's neck and allow a few morbid tears escape her eyes. She took very little time to wallow in that self pity, as her pride wouldn't let her do such a thing. She collected the much bucket from the far corner of the stable and got to work. She took care to spend at least a half an hour on each stall, not caring if it took more or less time. She had plans for intense cleaning, and this stable happened to be her victim.

Cleaning was her way to vent anger in this world; normally she might have gone off and worked on her fighting skills. But she knew that any fighting would only remind her of her weakness, the mercy she gave Nadia was unneeded, yet she gave it anyway. Manwë had given her an "okay" to kill her own sister, taking the revenge she had always wanted. And yet she couldn't bring herself to hurt Nadia. The woman was a product of madness, the tattoo Elain had carved into her was proof of that, the reverse of the tattoo Elain had been gifted. The reverse of that tattoo was almost a curse to Nadia, and though the child didn't know it, she would eventually find out such things were true.

Carving into her sister's flesh gave her the oddest of satisfaction; she really was turning into a beast. Blood was getting to her, it was over the top how emotionally floored she got simply by the scent of any amount of blood. A growl erupted from her chest again; she lifted a bucket from the ground and carried it from the stable, down the path and dumping the bucket of manure and marching back up the path. Her body moved like that repeatedly, until the barn was practically spotless. She ignored glances from onlookers, not noticing the fellowship watching from the overlook of Meduseld. She simply kept working, ignoring the flame that went up her right side, apologizing to anyone whom she hit into with that blind side. She was filthy, covered in sweat, and loving every second. She moved around the horses, thanking them softly any time they worked with her to allow her to clean.

Eventually she accepted the help of the Stable children, not allowing them to clean, but allowing them to groom and hold the horses while she worked. It was much easier that way, to work with the chatter of the children, laughing as they groomed each of the horses from the tip of its nose to the tip of its tail. Other than the chatter the children were dead to her. She was completely incoherent until Éowyn burst into the stall she had just finished putting bedding it, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her out of the barn. At first Elain struggled, but soothing words calmed her mind and her heart almost instantly. She obediently followed Éowyn up the steps to Meduseld and into the smaller room of the building, away from the main hall. It was loud, and was bustling with activity.

After being pulled behind Éowyn for a few moments she found her arm was on fire, calmly accepting that Éowyn was likely going to fix her up she accepted her fate. She had finished her task of cleaning the entire stable of Rohan single handedly from top to bottom. She had also successfully calmed her mind, and gotten most of her anger out from the cleaning. She was roughly set down at a table as Éowyn ran off to fetch medical supplies. She could see a few men watching her with interested expressions pasted onto their face with her good eye; she knew that others were watching trying to figure out the abyss that hid under those raven curls that hid her discolored eye.

She heard someone approach on her off side, and she slowly turned her face to see who it was. Sadly enough her left eye landed on the small yet strong chest of an Elf. She flinched away from the body with a hiss, but not before allowing her eyes to travel up from his chest to his face. The soft cream colored hair, those piercing eyes, and softly tipped ears of Legolas greeted her view. She felt her lip curl in distaste revealing teeth that seemed to not be human but she controlled the light snarl. He offered her a gentle smile before ignoring her rude gesture and placing himself at her side.

"So, innocent?" he offered, almost sarcastically. She couldn't help that unladylike snort that echoed from her being. His unintentional humor seemed to cheer her up slightly, though bringing up the situation at hand seemed to ruffle her feathers slightly.

She gently gripped his hand with a smile, "You only wish princeling." It was his turn to be rude; a bold melodic laugh escaped his chest as he gently nodded. Understanding completely what she meant the laugh had startled a few of the men, and Legolas slowly lowered his laugh into a chuckle, "I'm serious!" she challenged, causing him to clear his throat lightly. Mumbling something in Elvish that she could not understand, she chose to ignore it and not comment on how un-noble he was being, but found the slight antics of the Elf entertaining. Soon enough she felt a presence of a heavy weight next to her, she didn't even have to turn to view the muddied red hair of Gimli to know it was he.

Éowyn came back shortly after, a basket full of herbs and pastes. She gave Elain a stern gaze sitting across from her motioning for her to extend her hand, which she did slowly. Her shoulder was burning, and suddenly she was cursing herself for doing any work at all. She wasn't the brightest bulb on the bush, but she was content in her rashness. She allowed her shirt sleeve to be rolled up by Éowyn who scolded her lovingly the entire time.

"You'll need to bathe before I can bandage it," Éowyn started quietly after going on a rant over the carelessness of Elain. There was a moment of silence before the woman spoke again, having to raise her voice over the loud batch of men that came bustling in after work at the training grounds, "I fear for infection, too much filth has fallen into the wound. It is very deep." She said with a huff slowly standing and circling around with her basket of supplies in tow. "Come, let us get you cleaned."

After being pulled down a long hall and into her room she was ordered to undress. She hesitated until Éowyn rushed the chamber maids out of the room. She than motioned for Lydia; who had been following them since Elain had entered Meduseld, to come into the room. Éowyn helped Elain out of her leather Jerkin, and the soft fitting tunic to avoid further stress on her arm. Quickly unlacing her leggings she found herself lowering her body into the tub full of hot water with ease. Lydia was speaking with Éowyn and gathering up clothes for Elain when she was finished bathing.

The tight muscles in her back slowly started to unbind, the feeling of comfort and relief rushed over her like a wave. Her body went limp instantly; she ignored the sting of her wounds as she lowered her now sore body even deeper into the tub. She felt so safe; the warm ripples enveloped her like a comfortable blanket. For a moment she forgot she was scarred, she forgot she was broken, she just remembered she was a woman. And she really, really, really liked being clean. Honestly, she couldn't remember the last time she took a nice warm bath like this, she might have snuck a dip into a cold bath, but not piping hot like she used to heat in the back woods of London.

She mewed happily, a rumble almost like a purr rippled from her chest. Lydia was working on massaging soaps into her hair, while Éowyn worked on completely cleaning the wounds on her shoulder. She perhaps would have done this sooner, but Elain would have hurt someone. She wasn't used to letting her emotions loose like that, and it was something she did not want to make a habit of. After a while her hair was rinsed and she was ushered to stand, draping a thick cotton towel around her bare form with a content sigh and stepping from the tub and rubbing herself dry. Vigorously rubbing her hair until it was almost completely dry, she slipped into her bindings, completely accepting of the fact that her scars were in Éowyn's view. She allowed her shoulder and lower arm to be wrapped. Waiting patiently for them to be secured. She slipped on a tunic which almost matched her emerald eye to the T, placing her deep leather jerkin over the cloth. A pair of deep brown leggings shimmied their way up her legs after much force from her singular arm after being practically snarled at by Éowyn.

She flinched lightly when a deep fabric of a cloak came over her shoulders. She looked down, expecting to see the ratty now ruined fabric of her dark grey. Instead she was happily greeted with a rich beautiful earthy color. Almost identical to the one Lórien had given to her all those weeks ago. She felt a gentle tug to her wrist which caused her eyes to drift slowly to Lydia, a bright smile pasted on her face. They both shared a knowing look before Elain dawned all of her weapons, excluding her bow and quiver full of arrows.

"The king wishes to speak with you, Elain." Éowyn spoke quietly, causing the patch work girl to flinch lightly. She nodded and slowly turned pulling her hood up as she went, feeling like it didn't matter anyway. She only used it to cover up the scars scattered on her arms. She took Lydia's hand before gently grabbing Éowyn's hand. Slowly they all made their way to the main hall. Elain's long dark hair covering her right eye, and the largest of the scars. Her piercing eyes would have made a grown man back on earth cry; she was luckily no longer a resident on earth, so she didn't have to worry about large men bawling like children.

Lydia chattered happily with Éowyn, Elain popping in whenever she felt fit but otherwise staying silent. Figuring out what to say, attempting to picture reactions she may get. She wasn't thinking straight, she was coming up with the most ridiculous of ideas into her head. She couldn't lie; Valar knew that Gandalf had already spilled her past. She knew that he wasn't like that, but she was rather nervous. She had shed the blood of an "innocent" woman in the hall of kings. For all the king knew Elain was the guilty one and Nadia could have been innocent. Gandalf wouldn't allow her to be sent to death, if he thought her in danger he would have sent her away.

She took a deep breath as she pushed a small door open, releasing the hands of the two girls she strode in, confident, or as much as her mask allowed her to be confident. Her posture was straighter, had her expression was far more fierce than it was before. She was almost over the incident with her sister, but she was far from comfortable in the presence of so many men. She found herself standing in the shadow that is until Gandalf, that old fool took notice of her. And with a smile waved her on.

"Oh, Elain. So fine of you to join us, I've been waiting." Gandalf was never one to sneer, he was never one to speak in hushed tone, but when he spoke her name she wished he had. The slight pity added in the voice, the dip in pitch was too much for her. She couldn't help the growl that rumbled up from her chest, being made audible to the ears of even men. Gandalf looked disapprovingly at her before again motioning for her to come. She did, taking a few steps forward, her hand resting on the hilt of the knife at her side. She stepped forward into view, still hiding herself under her hood. Not ready for what was to come, physically she was in her prime, but mentally she was torn. It was hard to accept what actions had come to pass.

And what actions had not…

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I apologize that this is actually a filler chapter. I wanted to get an update in before I lost my mind. I have a tumblr now, as stated before (thelostfawndottumblrdotcom) for anyone who knows Tumblr things go from last to first, so just skip over everything until you reach the first page. It's the back story of how Elain came to be, and what she thinks of her situation. Essentially it's like an illustrated version of the main story. Remember to read and review, check out my tumblr, and vote on the poll that is still on my page. Love you all! Thanks to the other reviewers that I didn't reply to yet! I had replied to all of you, but it took up almost a whole page of my Notes on my iPod! Bye guys! – Ze

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