At the Mercy of a Burning Coal

Disclaimer; I don’t own, so you can’t sue! HA!
Note: Meep! Okay here’s the chappie, you can have it, just don’t hurt me! I haven’t had a lot of time lately, but the next chapter will be extra long as an apology. Okie dokie smokie?

“Idiot.”

Lathwen glared at Lily, “Excuse me?” Lily glared back at Lathwen, “You heard me…IDIOT!” Lathwen blinked, “You know why I had to do it! You know my reasons!”

Nestariel huffed and stalked over to the fireplace in Lathwen’s room. Edhelwen sighed and shook her head, “Okay Lathwen. You said that loving Glorfindel would be dangerous. People hate you, people hate him I suppose…and all of those people who hate you would hate him and vice versa. I agree with that, but he’s not in danger, neither are you. Both of you can take care of yourselves as we’ve seen before.”

Lily snorted, “Those old hags who want their daughters to wed Glorfindel aren’t going to chase you across Arda with their broomsticks anyway. Who cares about the public opinion?!”

Lathwen answered, “I don’t! Its’ just that…what if he gets hurt because of me?! How do you think that will make me feel?”

Nestariel turned away from the fireplace with a triumphant grin, “Aha! So you admit you love him!” Lathwen crossed her arms, “No I don’t! We’re *friends* Nestariel!”

Edhelwen flapped her hand toward the arguing girls and went on, “And then, Bessie, you said something about your fate. We all know you’re half-elven and Glorfindel’s all elf. What’s the problem with that?”

Lathwen sat leaned back on her bed and said, “When it comes the time I may choose to honor my mortal blood. He’d sail to Valinor and I’d stay here to wither away and die. That would be a disadvantage for both him and me.”

Edhelwen shook her head, “Not so. You could choose to honor your elven heritage and sail with him.”

“But that would mean I’d have to leave Lily and everyone else I know who’s a mortal!”
“So what? It’s not like you can’t visit! Besides, maybe you could invoke the Valar and ask them to grant Lily entrance to Valinor to stay with you.”

Lily grinned, “That chance is quite slim.” Lathwen ignored her friend and said, “But what of the Outlaw Maiden’s? What will happen to them? Will we die out just because of *my* Valar forsaken choice? I think not!”

Nestariel answered, “We know you aren’t willing to let the Outlaw Maiden’s cease to be Bessie, but think of all the future generations. When we leave Imladris we’ll be able to recruit many more…hopefully enough to make an army so when evil comes we can help the men, but that’s not the point. If you leave along with us, you’ll be able to elect a new leader.” She snapped her fingers, “Simple as that.”

Lathwen sighed and was about to argue but Edhelwen gave her the death look, causing the leader of the Outlaw Maiden’s to shut her mouth with a snap.

“And then,” Edhelwen said, releasing Lathwen from her deadly glare, “You say that Glorfindel doesn’t love you. Explain that.”

Lathwen replied, “Simple. It’s lust. He’s tired of all of the women who coo and fawn over him, so he wanted a change.”

“That change being you.” Lily finished. Nestariel shook her head, “Bessie, he loves you. If he wanted a change as you say, he would have come after one of the other Outlaw Maiden’s because you refused him. Why would he keep after you if he could easily force one of us?”

Edhelwen added, “Besides, he saved your life a few times, not to mention he chased you down like a bloodhound on a trail. By the Valar Lathwen! How can you not see?!”

Lily said dryly, “She does see Edhelwen. She just doesn’t want to admit it. Face it Bessie…after what happened in Bree, you’re afraid.”

Lathwen looked at the bedspread on her bed and didn’t say anything. The crackling of the fire could be heard clearly, but then Lathwen said, “I refuse to love him.”

Lily snorted, “Nonsense. You cannot control love.” Lathwen grinned, “Aha, but I can control what I do. I will avoid that limb of Sauron until he gets tired and chases after one of you…or some other maiden.”

Nestariel sighed, “Lovely. Thank you ever so Lathwen, for dumping him on us.”
“I’m not! I’m just saying…”
“You cannot possibly avoid him forever Bessie.”
“Oh yeah? Watch me!”

***
Lathwen glared down at the roast chicken on her plate as if it had personally done her some serious wrong.

The Outlaw Maiden’s were dining with Lord Elrond and the other inhabitants and guests of Imladris. As fate would have it, Lathwen and her crew were dining quite close to the Lord of the Golden Flower.

Lily elbowed her friend and said, “You want me to shoot it to put it out of its misery?” Lathwen glared at her friend and hissed back, “Why don’t you shoot someone else so he won’t stare at me so much!”

Lily smirked at Nestariel who was sitting across from Lathwen. Edhelwen was a few people down, sitting with Beinion and his parents. From the look on her face, it was going well.

Glorfindel however, was a few seats down on the opposite side. Out of the corner of her eye Lathwen could see him glancing at her once in a while. She could see he wasn’t trying to…but it was as if their eyes were magnetic and being drawn to one another.

Nestaron glanced knowingly at Lily and winked. Lily nodded and rose from the table. “Where are you going?!” Lathwen hissed, pulling her friend’s sleeve.

Lily shrugged, “Is it all right if I dance with my partner for ‘The Game’?” Lathwen inhaled through her teeth and said, “Please hurry!” Lily smirked again and waggled her fingers in farewell, “Of course Bessie dear.” She sang and skipped off to the dance floor with Nestaron. Well not literally…her leg was still healing though the process had sped up considerably thanks to Lord Elrond…but she was still limping.

It had been a week or so of avoiding the golden haired warrior. And it was the hardest week of Lathwen’s life.

She couldn’t seem to get rid of him! And he wasn’t even following her around, it was that fate kept pushing them together. Unfortunately neither seemed to be getting the hint and apologizing.

She saw him in the gardens, the kitchens, in Elrond’s study, in the library trading playful banter with Erestor…she wanted to scream!

Of course, Lathwen always had the option of leaving, but she could tell the others wanted to stay here, especially Edhelwen, and she wasn’t about to have them follow her to Tanglewood just because of her own selfish needs. Because indeed wherever she went, the rest were sure to follow.

Sometimes Lathwen was frustrated with the fact that her friend’s were so loyal and trustworthy. Sometimes she resented the fact that they respected her. But she always snapped out of that mood quickly. Lathwen was lucky to be surrounded by such people, and she knew it.

Nestariel tapped her leader on the arm, drawing her out of her reverie. “Bessie, can I—” Lathwen’s quick eyes had already spotted the hopeful male elf hovering behind Nestariel.

Lathwen grinned and flapped her hand in a shooing motion, “Go ahead and leave me to suffer.” She heaved and dramatic sigh, making Nestariel grin. Lathwen watched with satisfaction as her friends flounced off, enjoying the night while they still could.

She tore her eyes away from the happy couples on the dance floor and glanced about the room. Her eyes locked with the warrior who was staring at her once again. She smirked as he blushed slightly and turned away, determinedly focusing on talking to his friend’s animatedly.

Glorfindel had been avoiding her to, she was sure of it. Such a blow to the pride would do that to a man…or in this case, elf. He was angry with her, furious actually, and she knew it. But it didn’t stop her from being amused whenever he couldn’t help but glance her way.

She snickered, as the blush staining the warrior’s cheeks didn’t die down. Shaking her head in amusement, Lathwen pushed out her chair and stood up. Quietly, like a shadow, Lathwen slipped through the double doors.

She strode down the halls in a determined way. She was going to the kitchens to help with the baking, cooking, and dishes and such.

Lathwen had done that often in the past week, and made many new friends in the kitchens. Besides, the staff was more than willing to let another pair of hands work.

Lathwen started humming happily, remembering suddenly that there were only a few more days they would be staying in Imladris. She stopped short in the hallway, the shock of it freezing her.

A few more days. That wasn’t long.

“’Ello lady. What’s you a’doin’ on such a cold night?” Asked a slurred voice from behind her. Lathwen stiffened, “It is not cold sir.”

She turned and saw one of the guests…a man…behind her. The man had a black beard, neatly trimmed. She looked into his watery eyes and immediately knew that he was drunk.

As if that weren’t enough, the man came uncomfortably close and said, “It’s a chilly tonight girlie! And I’m cold if you know what I mean…” He leered at her suggestively.

Lathwen almost gagged; his wine soaked breath seemed to seep into her very pores. She backed away a few steps and glared at him, “You aren’t—”

Her words were cut off as the man lurched at her. He moved quickly for one who was the farthest thing from sober. He pinned her against the wall, his strength not deserting him because the wine had made him stronger and more sure of himself.

“Get your hands off me!” Lathwen snarled, an uncanny fire lighting her eyes. The man licked his lips, “Feisty eh? That’s just the way I like ‘em.”

His red, wet lips descended upon Lathwen’s mouth, causing her to struggle furiously as she screamed. But her screams were muffled, and she knew no one could hear. Panic overtook her and she brought her knee up sharply, kneeing him in the gut.

The man gasped and she managed to break away from him as he swore viciously. “You wretch!” He shouted, focusing his rheumy eyes on her. Lathwen opened her mouth and screamed piercingly.

The man jerked back, but still held onto her wrist. The scream was loud enough to wake the dead and he knew it. Footsteps echoed in the corridor as Lathwen struggled to free herself from his grip.

Just as the groups of elves and guests made their way into the hallway, Lathwen gathered her strength and lashed out, her left leg connecting with the man’s stomach once again.

Moaning, the man sank to the ground, clutching his stomach and gasping for breath. Panting, Lathwen stepped away and wiped her mouth contemptuously. Lily shouldered her way through the crowd and limped quickly to Lathwen’s side.

“Are you alright Bessie?!” She asked in a panic. Lathwen nodded, her head spinning. “Yes…yes I’m fine.” She said faintly. Lily glared at the man on the ground and spat on him.

Lathwen looked at her friend in mild amusement, “Do you like spitting on people? I seem to recall you do that a lot.” Lily shrugged.

Lathwen turned to face the crowd. She saw stranger’s…lots of them. But one familiar face held concern and anger. Glorfindel. He had come out of worry for her.

The golden warrior glanced at the man in disgust. He locked his gaze with Lathwen’s, and instantly the cold hard mask was put in place again. He didn’t come over to her.

Lathwen let out a shaky breath and said to Lily, “Can you shepherd these people back to the feasting hall? I’ll be in the kitchens…if you need me. And I want to walk *alone* if you take my meaning.”

Lily nodded briefly and said to the crowd, “Oy! You lot! Back to the party! There’s nothing to see here!” Eventually her words made everyone comply, and they all grudgingly shuffled back to the feast, a few of them dragging the drunken man along with them.

Lily hesitated, “Will you be all right Bessie?” Lathwen nodded, “I’m fine.” She said. “I’ll be fine.”

Lily was reluctant, but she knew how stubborn her leader could be. She turned and walked away with the rest of the mob, and Lathwen continued to the kitchens, her heart pounding and a headache coming on.