Title: Grace of Gondolin
Author: Marina
Chapters: 4
Pairing: Mortal OFC/Maeglin & Erestor
Timeline: Nirnaeth Arnoediad Mused by Maeglin
Warning: Graphic sex - rather dark Maeglin
Summary: Grace is a camp follower. She encounters elves for the first time in
her life..
Author's notes: This is additional smut for the SCREW YULE 2007! Inspired by
"Lords of Gondolin" but deals with an OFC..just enjoy.
1
The skies turned red, as if someone had taken a giant paintbrush and had dipped it into an even larger bucket with crimson paint just to coat then the clouds and the skies. In the distance a dark spot appeared, it was moving north. It was moving quick and the closer it came, the larger it got.
For a moment Grace wanted to rest, but there was no time. She was moving north. Two other women were walking with her. All three of them barefoot and carrying a pouch with some small bags of herbs and one extra garment. The dresses were simply, grey clothes. Over their shoulders they had thrown each of them a cloak, mostly held together by the many patches they had sewn on to fix them. Around their waists they wore belts and each had a small dagger tucked into it.
They followed the army to the coming battle.
Grace had been born faraway from the realms of the elf lords and had never seen an elf either. She was still a young girl when she had run away from home. The decision had been easy to leave. It was the regular story of lost innocence, a raging mad father and brothers and a child being born out of wedlock. Grace had been deeply in love and things happened. When her parents realized that she was pregnant, they had wanted to know the father’s child. But Grace could not tell them, because the man was wed already. And so she had run away.
She had found shelter at the house of an old, lonely widow who had given her food and a place to sleep. And Grace had watched over the cattle and the pigs. And when her time came, she was torn between drowning the child as most other women would have done or leaving it to die in the wild, where she had delivered it. But she could not do such a thing. Instead she wrapped the little girl in rags and before the sun rose she laid the child in front of the door step of the lonely widow’s house and Grace ran away.
More than three years had passed meanwhile and not a day went by that she did not think of her child and what could have been. She had traveled by night until she had found a village. Not the biggest, but at least large enough that it had a tavern. She worked in the barroom and to make her salary a little better she had begun to take care of certain wishes of the customers. There was that old hay shed just behind the house and for some copper coins, she tended there to her customers.
There were some other women at the tavern as well. And one day she had heard that one could make a big fortune with following the camps of the warriors. Grace wanted to earn as much as she could. Then she would one day be able to get her daughter back and offer her a good education, maybe let her learn a trade. But more she hoped to find love one day, or at least become the personal mistress of a rich horse dealer or even better chief of a tribe.
Her name had not always been Grace. This she had chosen when she had left home. She wanted a new life.
****
More than a week Grace was walking between the tents of the warriors already She had gained many copper and also one silver coin already. She had hidden all that she had earned in the forest nearby and every time she walked their she paid extra caution not to be watched and robbed.
She was about to stroll friendly to the larger tents where whole sheep were roasted over the fires in front. A motion went through the whole camp and Grace stopped walking.
“They are here! Our allies arrived!” She heard a young man call out excitedly. Curiosity drove her now to the border of the tent town. Her feet carried her fast over the dirty and smelly ground. She stopped.
Banners with awkward signs were flying in the air. Horses snorted and quiet voices were mumbling. Grace wanted to get a closer look at the newly arrived A hand held her roughly back. A man with a long beard and a mustache that was hanging deep down over his chin held her back. She remembered him from some nights ago, when she had followed him to his tent to please him. He was the one who had given her the silver coin for her services.
“Do not go any further. They have no understanding for you kind,” he grumbled at her.
Grace tried to wiggle herself out of his grip and her eyes flashed him upset But then she gave up her resistance. The horsemen started to dismount their steeds and some took their fancy, partially winged helmets off. Grace was stunned. They were so beautiful. Was it possible that men were so extremely handsome at all. Though they were no men. Slowly it deemed her. Those were the elves that all and everyone had been talking about.
Grace put her best smile on her lips and lowered her eyes innocently to the ground, when some of the elves had looked into her direction. So she missed the admiring gaze of two or three of the nearest gave her. And she did not see those elves that were starting to put up their tents, who were all clad in black and tan, whose leader had spat on the ground as soon he had been aware of the mortals next them.
2
Grace walked between the tents. Most of the camp followers that she had met in the last days were different to her. She had not known that there would be mothers, sisters and wives of the warriors working between the tents. Slowly it deemed her that there was more to earn with fixing clothes, tending to wounds and cooking meals over the fire.
Large kettles were standing between the tent lines. There was only one meal served per day to keep the people strong. Matter of fact the food Grace’s people had was boring and the quality could have been better. Every time she went by another large pot she saw the same things swimming in the broth: pieces of meat, which origin was more than uncertain, roots and some bones with marrow in.
On the other hand the elves who had built their camp right next to them some seemed never to eat at all. Grace could also not spot the difference between males and females in the distance. But someone had told her, that they appeared rather equal until the females gave birth. Snickering Grace wondered how exactly the female elves then looked. Many of the elves she had seen, well not very close, because they would not walk into the filthy camp of her people, and so they were at least 20 feet away, were extremely beautiful and their hair was flowing down their back, when they had not braided and hidden under their winged or fancily decorated helmets.
The men of the camp admired mainly the elven horses. Barely a sound was heard from them and they seemed so fragile and strong at the same time. A half mile down from where she stayed with her friends, Grace had seen one heavier set black horse and some dark grey ones. She had not seen the owner of the horses yet.
“Grace! Get your pouch and come over here!”
The woman hurried back to the tent from where the voice was calling. The man was one of the chiefs and he preferred to have Grace around him. He did not lie with her, for him it was important not to be alone and he paid her well. Just as she was about to enter the tent, her instincts told her to jump the side.
Not a moment to late. Three riders stormed through the ways on their horses between the tents, obviously spooking the people that rested there for their own fun. Men and women tried to save themselves. The riders had dark cloaks thrown over their shoulders, the hoods pulled deep into their faces, swords fixed to their belts.
Hurin, a chief of the mortals, emerged from his tent and yelled something at the disturbing elves, but they obviously did not care. Kettles were thrown over and clothes ruined. Grace recognized the dark horses and since they were coming closer, she stood firm on her place, because she finally wanted to see one of the elves eye to eye.
But she caught only a glimpse of a face. Ethereal beautiful, that is all she could say. The ellon must have been the leader of those that had their camp further down. He was clad all in black and the banner that was fixed his horse was simply black too. She had seen it flowing over the larger tent also. And it spooked her. All other banners and coats of arms were so colorful and then this was simply black.
The elf was extremely tall, compared to the men Grace knew. One of his companions was must shorter and the other just a little. She saw the face of the shorter one. He still was tall for her kind, but for an elf Grace thought, he was not the tallest. He had a slim, harsh looking face, piercing grey eyes and a pointy nose. The taller elf was also dark haired but had very soft and friendly features. Their feet were in light boots and their legs covered in tight breeches, but equally dark as their leader.
Grace was stunned about him. His face was stern, his skin ivory white, his hair raven black and he featured high cheek bones. For a moment he looked at Grace. She shivered, those dark eyes flashes with anger at everyone who stood in his way. His disgust for the gathered people in this camp was seize able.
Moving to the side, Grace tried to get out of horses’ way. Suddenly the riders stopped. Straight in front of her. Most curious the little group’s elven leader bent down to her. With his iron gauntlet covered hand, he caught her chin and forced Grace to look at him. She stood firm on the ground. Her hand moved to the dagger behind her belt when his intimidating gaze met hers.
In the last days she had learned some elvish words but their language seemed to be difficult. And so she did not understand what he said. Her eyes followed his motions as he pulled the gauntlet off and stroke over her cheek She turned her head to the side, to escape his look.
Then he hissed something in his sing sang language and spurned his horse hard, keeping it right between the tents again.
The taller elf though dismounted his steed and pulled his hood back.
“They say that you are a female,” the elf quietly said, his voice heavy with a strange accent.
Nodding Grace answered “Yes, have you never seen one before.”
“Ours look different. They do not have hair like you.”
Instinctively Grace reached to her flaming red curls. She had her in two long braids, but still some strands escaped often.
“My master likes it. My name is Aranwe and I am very curious about your kind I have met some males long ago when I wandered with Lord Finrod,” the elf continued.
Grace had no idea who Finrod was and as much as she had heard about the elves, long ago, must be in elvish terms something that had happened before her ancestors had been born.
“Do you have a friend?” Aranwe asked openly and the smile on his lips, let Grace guess that elves were in certain things not much different to the men she knew.
She sucked air in to let her cleavage appear better. In her head her thought went crazy. She had seen the elves’ armor and weapons, the gems they had on their brows and the necklaces they wore. Tending to them to give them a little comfort before battle, would earn her a fortune, Grace thought.
“Sure, I have a friend,” she purred and her hand reached out to touch his cheek most innocently. When Aranwe lowered his eyes to the ground, she stepped even closer to him and drew circles on his chest with her fingers. She knew she was about to catch him.
3
“Shall I find my friend right away or shall I come with you?” Grace whispered, taking one strand of Aranwe’s hair and twisted it between her fingers.
The ellon smiled naughty “I will fetch some wine for us and you find your friend,” he turned around, holding her small hand and pointed down the camp ” See that large tent with the black banner. That is where we will meet.”
Aranwe pinched Grace buttock real fast and quickly disappeared between the many people that wandered around. The woman though hurried to find Hope among the many camp followers. That girl was a blast. She had light blonde hair, was rather round then slim, something the men preferred and had an addictive smile. She was one of the more popular women there. Grace liked her very much, because like herself Hope had the same goals.
The girl could chose who she went with. Stepping through the mud and trying not to get her feet to dirty Grace finally spotted Hope sitting next to one of the chiefs at the fire to get herself warm again.
Light rain had set in and so the ground, disturbed through the many hooves of the horses and heavy boots of the men, had become nasty. She waved at Hope and hurried to her side. “I got us a great chance. An elf from the tent with the black banner would like to be with us!” Grace whispered into Hope’s ear. The young woman’s eyes sparkled. She excused herself instantly and got up.
Tugging on her blouse, to make her bosoms appear larger, and combing with her fingers through her hair Hope followed Grace to the large tent. Just some feet beside it Aranwe was waiting, smiling from one ear to the other. He held a large goatskin in his hands and lifted it to his mouth.
Once he sat the skin down, he gazed openly over Hope and nodded appreciating Her round hips, her large breasts and her fuller appearance seemed to please him very much. Aranwe handed the goatskin to Grace and offered the women to take a sip from it.
Sweet was the wine and Grace longed to have another mouthful. That wine was different to the ones she had tried before. And while she took the skin again and lifted it to her lips, she heard Aranwe talking with his melodic but accent loaded voice to Hope. Latter one pulled the ellon into an embrace faster than the elf had expected and her hands rubbed openly over his body. She grabbed him between his legs. Suddenly Hope jumped slightly back, then came back to Aranwe and whispered something into his ear, that made him blush and Hope giggled.
Grace just had thought about drinking again, when another elf took the goat skin and Aranwe wrapped an arm around each of the women to lead them into the tend. He kicked the leather door to the side and pulled them laughing inside. The floor was covered with blankets and in the middle next to a bowl that held glowing wood pieces the other two elves sat, which Grace had seen earlier.
They had shed their armor down. Inside the tent it was warm and cozy and Grace needed a moment to adjust her eyes to the dim light. But the elves obviously had no troubles with the darkness. The tall elf, who earlier had touched Grace face hissed something in his language and the woman did not understand him. The hard look in his eyes made her shiver and she felt uncomfortable. Instead of going to business as she had planned to, she suddenly wished to get out of the tent again. She wanted to turn to Hope, but the young girl was occupied with Aranwe, who had only shrugged at the words of the dark eyed elf and had pulled Hope to the back of the tent.
Grace wanted to trust her instincts and stepped back. Her hands reached behind her to find the leather flap to get out, but she could not find it. And the look of that one elf seemed to nail her to the ground. He again said something that she did not understand. To little had she learned of their tongue in the last days, but she understood his waving.
Slowly she walked closer until she stood in front of him. Normally she would undress herself and lay down and then let the man do what he wanted and then leave again, but right then she was so terrible insecure.
Faster than light the dark eyed elf grabbed the seam of her dress and yanked her to him. Grace lost balance and dropped down on his lap, just as he had obviously planned it. The other elf, beside him cocked and eyebrow and Grace could read it in his eyes, that he felt uncomfortable. He tended to leave and crawled to his knees, but the other one pressed his hand down on his shoulder and ordered “Erestor, stay!”
From the corner of her eye Grace saw that Aranwe pulled Hope’s skirts high and that they fell down on some pelts below them. And moments later the young girls moaning filled the tent.
The elf whose name was Erestor turned his head to Aranwe but then blushed and tried to look away. He was obviously disgusted by the happenings behind him. Grace’s body was stiff as if she had swallowed a broom stick and she stopped breathing for a moment, when the cool skin of the dark eyed elf’s hands touched her cheek. He slowly let his fingers travel down to the nape of her neck. A spot which Grace considered extraordinary ticklish. Although when this elf grazed her skin, she had chills running down her spine and she suddenly frozen with terror.
“Erestor, they are in certain ways like ellith, I heard,” the elf said and started to unlace Grace dress, making her shiver even more, “And this one acts as if she was shy like a young fawn.” The woman tried to wiggle herself out of his lap and also to get on her knees. But when she felt the heavy weight of a gem being pushed down her cleavage, she remembered what she had planned.
‘Close your eyes and get through with it, Grace. You have done this before. You had two guys at the same time. They are just men, elf men,’ she repeated in her mind several times while the dark eyed elf peeled her out of the dress and flung it carelessly away. Suddenly he pushed her from his lap and said something in sing sang words that made absolutely no sense to her.
Aware of being naked in front of two elves staring at her and Hope being ridden hard in the back of the tent, Grace crossed her arms in front of her body.
“My lord Maeglin wants you to dance for him. Can you dance?” Erestor suddenly addressed her and Grace was more than surprised to her his crystalline voice speaking to her without the mere hint of an accent. He was different then the one with the dark eyes and the cold skin, the one he had called his lord.
Erestor’s words had been like music to her and a warm emotion welled up inside of her. Something she had felt the last time when she had fallen in love. Was it the magic of that elf or did he simply cast spells on her to hypnotize her? Grace did not know nor did she care.
Maeglin slapped his hands and Erestor joined him, humming a melody. Grace lost the control over her body, which started to move with the music. Her hips rocked her gently and her arms started to stroke over her body, in a way she had never thought she could move at all.
She closed her eyes and opened them when she felt a sudden cold breeze on her skin. Two other women had entered the tent, seeking warmth and shelter from the cold rain that had started to pour down from the dark grey clouds that sailed the skies of Beleriand. Their voices now sang songs that Grace new. The elves stopped making music with their hands. Instead she heard Maeglin whispering something and heavy swallowing of Erestor when Maeglin poured something to drink down the shorter elf’s throat.
Erestor was now lying on the blanket covered ground and tried to open his eyes. Grace moved closer to him and gazed over the resting elf. For a short moment she caught a glimpse how Maeglin took some kind of powder out of a pouch and mixed it into the wine filled goblet before he made Erestor drink again. Then he waved at Grace.
Slowly she came closer. That cold aura around the dark eyed elf made her shiver and when she was just an arm length away from him, she wished instinctively to turn on her heels and flee out of the tent and into the cold rain. Fear crawled up her spine when he grabbed her and pulled her down on his lap. He motioned two the two other women to come closer. They did not walk easily to him either, rather sneaked.
Grace struggled to sit on his lap. Through the soft fabric of his breeches she felt his hard gender pressing against her thighs. The two women now stood in front of him as well and with a quick movement of his hand Maeglin tore the clothes of one of them down, exposing her body.
Realizing that he was distracted, Grace decided that she could move away, or at least she hoped to do so. She shifted her weight. If she would crawl over Erestor, who seemed to be nearly unconscious, she thought to get to the back of the tent. Where Aranwe was heavily breathing, while pushing his member hard into Hope’s body. The woman had clawed her hands into his shoulders and passion was written all over her face. High pitched screams left her lips. For her being with that elf was obviously more than simple business.
Grace was about to leave Maeglin’s lap. Suddenly his cool fingers dug into the skin of her neck.
“Manna mínal?“The elf hissed behind her and his hands grabbed her hips tight dragging her down on him again.
His voice was coarse and dark not like the crystalline sound that came from Erestor or Aranwe. And even she spoke not his sing sang language she understood that he had no understanding for her tries to leave.
Maeglin pressed her lower body down on his thighs. His hands may have been cold, but now that he had unlaced his breeches she felt that his large gender was hot pulsating against her delicate skin. He turned her around as if she was a toy for him, so that she faced the two women standing right next to them. Maeglin longed to feel all of those mortal women and he kneaded Grace breast with one hand, while his other hand sought between her legs.
With a quick motion of his head he signed the two women to tend to Erestor. The naked one rubbed herself over Erestor while starting to undress him. The other one only had opened his breeches and pulled his cock out. Erestor‘s eyes became big and he seemed to come back to a clearer state of mind. But his eyes turned up, when the full lips of the camp follower closed around his growing gender, sucking it deep into her throat, all the way down his shaft. Erestor moaned.
Maeglin never stopped fondling Grace, even he watched most interested how the two camp followers tended to his loyal companion. He sighed when one let her large and heavy breasts sway over Erestor‘s face and he hungrily snaked his tongue out to catch her dark nipples. His fingers were digging between her thighs. Suddenly Erestor‘s eyes flew wide open. A hot and tight experience flooded his mind as the other camp follower took him deep into her body and started to ride him. Never had he been with a woman before. Erestor tore his hands from the other woman‘s curls and held on to the hips of the one riding him. He arched his back to get his cock deeper into her.
Meanwhile Grace relaxed a little. The elf on whose lap she sat, probed the soft ribbed walls of her channel and he pushed one finger deep into her. He still had her sitting with the back to him. Grace moaned surprised as he pushed some more fingers into her, stretching her. She squirmed, trying again to get away, as she was not to happy with his hard use. Without warning Maeglin pushed her from his lap and his hand held her tight on her neck, moving her head down. He nestled around on his unlaced breeches and his rock hard erection jumped forward. Astonished over the size Grace only took it into her hands and slowly rubbed it up and down.
She hoped he would close his eyes to enjoy, as all other men would do and as had observed Erestor as well, but he stared at her cold. To escape the icy, dark eyes‘ glare Grace lowered her head and started to lick on his shaft. He did not even breathe faster. In a spiral motion she moved her small hand up and down and finally pulled his foreskin back and sucked the top of his member gently in. This time he reacted, quietly inhaling.
His hands took her breasts again and Maeglin rubbed her nipples. And even she was terrified of him and would have loved to get out of the tent because she rather would be working hard under the sky to earn her daily bread, than having to be at the will of this elf for some valuable gems, she felt that she became aroused. A thing which rarely happened when she laid with men for business.
Maeglin grabbed buttocks and and kneaded them. Next to them the two women had changed positions and Erestor now had mounted one from behind and spurred her hard. And the clashing sound of Aranwe‘s body meeting Hope‘s and their moans that filled the tent, did not help Grace in her struggle against upwelling feelings.
„Áva pusta!“ Maeglin hissed as she moved her lips just a moment away and pushing her head down again, he forced her to take his whole length deep down her throat. He had stopped to roughly push his fingers into her. Instead the ellon had begun to rub her pearl and even she struggled with her own will, the warm feeling of becoming aroused flooded her inner body.
Something the elf must have been waiting for, maybe he sensed how she began to feel and faster than light he threw her on her back. He yanked his breeches further down. Taking her knees he pushed her legs far apart. The ellon grabbed his giant arousal and pushed it deep into her. Grace gasped. He filled her to the limits, when he retreated and thrust back into her. His black hair fell over his shoulders and stroke her face. His eyes never left her face, watching every single emotion that played in her eyes.
Grace wiggled around, unwittingly she arched her back, as she tried to get into a more comfortable position on the ground. That way she had led him even deeper into her. Now it was the elf who gasped. Bending his head down on her he bit her suddenly at the nape of her neck. This triggered something in Grace‘s body. Both her hands dug deep into his hair and she pulled him down on her. Arching her back repeatedly , she lost herself in passion. Maeglin‘s breath came hissing. He propped himself up on one arm. Pulling on her legs he made Grace throw her thighs over his shoulders. For a moment he hesitated but then thrust into her again deeper and harder. Now it was Grace screams that drowned all other sounds in the tent. Never had a men taken her that way and she knew deep in her heart, never would anyone else but an elf be able to give her those feelings either. His pushes were long and hard. His pushes were deep and sometimes he slightly rotated nearly out of her. He was different than all men she had been with, who were bouncing on her as if they were rabbits, quick, fast stinky and then collapsed on top her, spreading their slimy semen inside of her.
She scratched over the silk like fabric of his tunic. For a moment she even wished he would kiss her. Something the camp followers never did, kissing meant to give a piece of themselves away.
His member pulsated hot inside of her, his cool skin was in such extreme contrast to hers. Resting deep inside of her, he slowly retreated and bowed his head. His tongue circled her erect nipples.
„Please, Master elf, please,“ Grace plead.
Maeglin tilted his head, trying to understand her words and shrugged. Grace was full of dismay as he pulled himself totally out of her.
„Herunya, please!“
The elf grinned, hearing her addressing him in his own language calling him my lord. Maeglin‘s hand took he rat the hips and Grace turned around. The language of passion does not need words. He pulled her to her knees and spread her legs from behind. Rubbing his member on her opening, he made it‘s tip wet before he thrust again in to her. Holding on to her hips now, moving in the same rhythm as Erestor next to him.
Grace closed her eyes. Even if he would not give her gems for this, she would be grateful, just for the reason that he had shown her how different his kind was. But her thoughts were interrupted. Maeglin held on to her hips and she felt the spasms that went through his body and the hot jets of his seed spurting into her. Heavily panting he collapsed over her back and rested for a moment. The skin of his body had not become even a little warmer, while Grace was soaked in sweat.
For a minute or two he rested and the woman wished to turn around, to embrace him. Then he pulled himself out of her. He slapped her playfully on her behind and got up on his legs. Tumbeling he pulled his breeches back up and shook his head, to get the his own long black hair out of his face. He grabbed Grace on her hand to make her stand herself. Still holding her hand, he pulled her to the back of the tent, where Aranwe laid spread on some blankets. Hope was sitting next to him, her cheecks flushed and her eyes half opened.
Maeglin pinched Grace into one of the cheek of her buttocks and shoved her into Aranwe‘s direction. In the same moment he grabbed Hope on her neck and forced her to stand.
„Á tulë as inyë,“ he said and pulled the woman next to the spot where Erestor was sitting, naked and without breath. He playfully kicked Erestor to move over before he made Hope kneel down between them.
Manna mínal= were do you intent to go?
Áva pusta = don‘t stop!
Herunya = My Lord
Á tulë as inyë = come with me
4
The ground was not solid anymore. Soaked with blood of friend and foe it had turned into something muddy and slimy. Grace tried to walk with her pouch, that was filled with herbs and some remedies between the wounded that were carried to the tents. She only was allowed to tend to the men. She strayed once of her path and went over where the injured elves lay. She was looking for familiar faces.
The elves had stormed Angband. One elf of Nargothrond had suddenly broken out of the lines with his horsemen, when he had recognized the mutilated body of his brother being carried as a banner by the forces of Morgoth. Grace had not seen this happening, but the story was told about it. One thing she had not understood at all. The elf that called himself Erestor was feasting that evening.
And there they had been in their tent. Aranwe on the pelts next to Maeglin, totally distraught. Maeglin stared only into the fire bowl and Erestor poured wine down his throat. He had pulled Grace on his lap and before she was aware of it, he gave her the same to drink as he must have had the other day. Her head was spinning and she only remembered having him on top and deep inside of her.
Grace pulled her skirt up to her knees so it would not get so extremely soiled. The seam was already soaked with rainwater, sweat, blood and other liquids which she did not like to remember. She stumbled between the moaning crying and some were screaming people to the end of the camp. There was a forest. She had hidden all her gems, that Erestor and Aranwe had given her for the service. Maeglin had not given her gems. One night he suddenly had appeared in front of the tent that she shared with Hope and had dragged her out of it. He walked her to the forest. When he was finished with her, he had pulled a shirt knife out of his tunic.
Grace had been spooked to death, but he did not kill her nor harm her. Instead he put it into her hands. It was a fine knife and she had already found out, that it always found the perfect way, when she had to defend herself.
Now she was making haste to get away. In the dim light of the mighty trees she could see Hope waiting for her. The quickly hugged and Hope whispered, scanning the area around them if nobody had followed either of them.
“You got everything?” Grace asked. “Yes. Got the pouch, know where to go, will travel only during day light and among the trees. I will find her,” Hope answered, gently caressing Grace’s face, where the tears of good bye had left trances in the dust that clung to her skin.
“Be good to my girl. Raise her as if she was yours.” “I will, Grace. I will. And I will never have to work the taverns again. And you are sure about your decision? You stay here, even it will become uglier than it is already.” “Yes, Hope. I will. There is no way I ever can return to where I came from. May the Gods watch over you.”
The two women held each other tight one more time. And then Hope took the pouch with gems that Grace had prepared for her and she fled through the trees away. Grace stood long there and looked after her, even when her shadow had disappeared in the darkness. Then she turned and walked back to the camp, to stay with the elves forever.