Deliver Us From Evil

There is something magical about the idea of loyalty. Imagine for a moment, if you will, someone that is loyal to you. They will stick by your side and care for you through everything. Even if the good times are few and the bad times are practically constant and have become a natural state. Having someone loyal to us makes us feel loved, but being loyal is the difficult part. I don’t know why that bite was so magical that it made me loyal. In the time before, I would have left at the drop of a hat when the situation turned sour.

The house was dark as all the lights had been turned off, but I was still able to see shades of gray. Two forms laid underneath the heavy blanket on the bed. Their chests were rising and falling with each breath. My heart swelled watching them. They appeared peaceful in sleep, with calm, steady breaths. Knowing they were safe, I moved away from the doorway. I peeked into the next room to see a small child resting, a leg hanging off the edge of the bed. I shuffled into the room and came to the bedside. After pushing the limb back onto the bed with my snout, I grabbed the blanket gently in my mouth and covered the exposed skin. Seeing the child was comfortable, I exited the bedroom.

I used my enhanced sense of hearing and smell to guide myself through the house. I listened carefully for any steps of an intruder; I breathed through my nose in case I caught the stink of an unfamiliar scent. Finding no evidence of any danger, I decided to end my patrol and retire for the night. I trotted over to the large pillow that substituted for my bed, as the rain and the leak in my outside wooden kennel made it cruel to force me to sleep anywhere but inside.

Before I could even step onto the plush fabric, something wrapped around my throat. It burned horribly against my skin and fur. A hand clamped over my snout, stopping any sort of noise from escaping me. I struggled against the person, desperately trying to free myself. Air brushed across one of my ears as lips drew near and words I didn’t understand were whispered to me. The shades of gray that made up my world turned to black.

***

My eyelids were heavy but I forced them to open. Once my vision came to focus, I was drowned in a world of color. Though not excessively vibrant, they appeared that way to me after so long of only seeing grays. I had missed colors and their beauty.

The next thing I noticed was that I felt cold. I had no fur to keep in my body heat, nor was I wearing any clothing. Glancing down at the wooden floor, I caught sight of my hands. I flexed them, as if checking to make sure they were fully operational. I peered around the room I was in, not quite sure what move to make next.

The room lacked any windows and had only one door that was probably locked. A long table with a single chair was in the middle of the room. On top of the chair were clothes. I stood on shaky limbs and quickly grabbed the clothes. The t-shirt was too large and the jeans were fine in width, but draped over my feet. I looked over the materials on the table and became confused. There were several bowls, a crucible, white candles, a drawn pentagram, a pair of handcuffs, and an assortment of dried herbs. It looked like a form of witchcraft.

The door flew open, causing me to quickly turn. A woman with dark skin that appeared to be about middle aged stood in the doorway. Before I could move, she raised a gun with her left hand and pointed it at me. A long dagger was in her other hand.

“Silver bullet,” she warned me. “If you try anything, this will be going through your heart.” She cocked the gun. “Got it?”

“Got it,” I repeated back to her.

She gestured to the table with her gun. “Put the handcuffs on. Slowly.”

With no other choice, I followed her instructions. I flinched at the pain that touching the silver handcuffs caused me, but I continued and snapped them over my own wrists. I gritted my teeth and tried to block it out.

“Sorry about this, Daisy,” she told me. I stopped myself from asking her how she knew my name. She walked behind me and placed her hand on my shoulder and applied pressure. “On your knees.” I dropped down and closed my blue eyes, awaiting my execution. “But I really needed a skinwalker and I’d have to go several states over just to find another one.” She reached around me and pressed one of the bowls against my collarbone. The silver dagger replaced the gun and touched my neck.

“You’ll regret this,” I warned her, but my threat was empty.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

The silver sliced my neck open and fresh blood poured out. The witch quickly moved the bowl to catch the drainage. The pain of the wound and silver was unbearable. My body went into to shock and I couldn’t move. My veins felt cold and my vision swam. Colors swirled and finally turned black.

***

I faded in and out of consciousness. I vaguely recalled pressure on my lungs, chilling water, and gentle hands. The smell of horse and hay tingled in my nose at one point, but I couldn’t be sure. There was nothing I could be certain of until I awoke on soft silk sheets. I felt small pressure on my throat and instantly reached to touch it. My fingertips brushed against what felt like cotton.

“Please do not disturb your bandages.” My eyes snapped to where the voice had come from. A tall man with long dark brown hair stood across the room. A silver circlet framed his forehead and the top of his hair was pulled back and held small braids in front of his shoulders. He wore long, regal robes that added to his air of nobility. But what was most shocking were his ears; they were exposed by his hairstyle and were pointed at the top.

Several emotions passed through me, including surprise and confusion. They must have showed on my face as he momentarily smirked as he approached me. He stopped by my side but kept a respectful distance; from here I could see his eyes were a stern gray. I opened my mouth to speak, but he interrupted me.

“It is best if you do not speak for now. The damage done to your neck was very serious. You are fortunate enough to be alive as well as be found by the patrol. I am sure you have questions but they will have to wait until you are recovered enough to speak.” While his words and tone were formal, he offered me a kind look. I nodded my understanding to him. “I am Lord Elrond and we are in Imladris, also known as Rivendell: the Last Homely House West of the Mountains. You are our guest and my patient. Please make yourself welcome, but first continue to rest so you can heal.”

I nodded once again and he gave me a small smile before taking his leave. Well, it looked like I wasn’t in Kansas anymore.

***

It took several days for me to recover enough to speak. In the mean time, I was given a handmaiden named Baineth to take care of me. She had pale skin, dark hair, and silver eyes, which seemed to be common traits in Rivendell. She spoke in an accent that I could not place, but she told me her native tongue was Sindarin. Sometimes she would forget words in English, or Common Tongue, as she called it.

Though she looked no more than twenty-one, she told me she had lived “one-hundred, twenty, and six years.” I, of course, choked on the water I was drinking because of this.

“Now that your ability of speech has returned to you, Lord Elrond wishes to speak to you. But perhaps you would like to take a bath first, my lady?”

Her hinting wasn’t lost on me. I could smell myself well enough, even without my sharpened senses. They had cleaned me of the blood when I arrived, but my last bath had been in the river they pulled me out of, which I doubt counted. “That sounds wonderful, thank you. But please, just call me Daisy.” This wasn’t the first time I had made the request.

“I already have the water drawn, my l- Miss Daisy.”

I sighed. Close enough, I suppose.

Baineth led me to the private washroom that was part of my chambers. A large circular tub was in the center of the room. She helped me undress, which I was embarrassed about at first, as she slipped the borrowed night gown from my shoulders and onto the floor. I carefully stepped into the hot water and slowly sat down.

The elleth expertly washed my hair and made sure not to soak the bandages around my throat. I stopped her from washing any skin other than my back. I had recovered from my initial body shame and became quite relaxed under her eyes.

“Miss Daisy, what happened here?” She stroked the white scar on the inside of my right forearm. It ran a few inches from the crook of my elbow downwards.

“Oh, that? It happened years ago. No big deal.” The look in her eyes told me she didn’t believe me, but she didn’t press for answers.

Once my flesh had been scrubbed from the dirt and sweat that had built up over the last few days, I stood up and took the towel offered to me. I noticed a pink hue on Baineth’s cheeks, which was curious.

She helped clothe me in a powder blue elven dress. It had a square neckline outlined in golden thread. The sleeves were tight until they reached the elbows, where they flowed freely; the insides were gold as well. I watched as she tied a golden sash, that apparently went with the dress, around my waist.

She brushed my hair and told me that she would braid it if only it were longer. My wavy, reddish brown hair only reached the tops of my shoulders and would perhaps be long enough to properly braid if it were straightened.

“And now, I pay Lord Elrond a visit,” I mumbled.

***

Lord Elrond’s office was as regal as he was, but still managed to be simple in design. Book shelves lined the walls and he had a desk covered in parchment as well as an ink bottle with a white feather sticking out of it. He welcomed me inside and offered me a seat in front of the wooden desk. I sat down and kept my eyes on him.

“Now, Lady Daisy, I have questions for you and I am sure you have some for me as well.” I nodded in response. “Who harmed you?” My fingers flitted to the bandages, but I let them drop. “And please, do not lie and tell me it was an accident. The cut was clean and clearly made by a blade of some kind.”

I had already thought of what to tell him. Obviously the truth was not an option, but the best way to lie is to keep it as close to the truth as possible. “A witch did this to me.” Since they had elves, chances were that magic wasn’t unknown to them either.

“A witch?”

“Yes.”

“Why would a witch want to harm you?”

“I don’t know! She spoke of some spell and she slit my throat. I don’t know if sending me here was her intention or an accident, but here I am.” I knew the witch needed me specifically because I was a skinwalker, but I excluded that information.

He seemed to mull things over in his mind for a moment before speaking. “And you are not from Middle-Earth?”

“Earth, yeah. But I’ve never heard of <i>Middle</i>-Earth. And are you really elves? Because I’m quite sure we don’t have those where I come from.” I could’ve been wrong, of course; my knowledge of other monsters was limited.

“This is most interesting. I have a friend that can perhaps assist you; but for now, please continue to be our guest, Lady Daisy.”

“Thank you so much, Lord Elrond. But I have some questions about Middle-Earth.”

He smiled and said, “Of course, I shall give you all the information you need.” He gave me a run through on Middle-Earth’s history, geography, and races. He even let me borrow some of the books from his shelves after I gave him my word that no harm would come to them.

The next week in Rivendell I spent reading and learning. Whenever I got stuck, I asked Baineth and she answered all the questions she could. In fact, I found a friend in her. She was quite lovely; all elves were but she was more, she was humble and wasn’t condescending like some of the few elves I met were. (Lord Elrond wasn’t either, thankfully.) But there was another elleth I came into acquaintance with that didn’t look down on me for being “of the Race of Men.” (As far as they knew, I was just a woman, not a skinwalker.)

This elleth was Arwen, daughter of Lord Elrond. She was a rare beauty, even among elves. I learned from Baineth that she was in love with a mortal man whom was called Estel by the elven-kind. He was an “elf-friend” and had been given an elven name for it. When I asked her what an elf-friend was, she told me that it was “a title or epithet bestowed by Elves upon those of other races who aided or liked them.” Apparently, this was a high honor.

Baineth and I soon found our cultures clashing. She was relatively surprised to find out that I even had the ability to read, as was this was usually uncommon among women (human women, that is). She was also surprised to know that my experience at horse riding was minimal. I had only ever ridden once and everything had been taken care of by the handler; my only job was to sit there. So she taught me horseback riding and I helped her improve her reading and writing in Common Tongue.

“So,” I began as we sat in my chambers, “are you seeing anyone?” It had been several weeks since I spoke to Lord Elrond and there hadn’t been any news about this “friend” of his. I hadn’t asked either, I figured he would tell me what I needed to know. The bandages had been removed and all that was left was a pink scar.

Baineth stopped her stitching. I had ripped a hole in one of the riding dresses I had been given and Baineth was fixing it. “I do not understand. I see you right now.” Her expression showed her confusion.

“Uh, how would you phrase it? Um, are you courting someone?”

She smiled lightly and her cheeks turned pink. “I believe you mean to ask if someone is courting me, and no, they are not.”

“Oh. Well, have you ever been courted?”

“Oh no, I am quite young anyhow.”

I frowned at her. “You’re 126 years old. Is that young for elves?”

She took a moment before saying, “Well, a hundred years is when we are considered adults.” She started stitching again. “Very much different from ‘humans,’ as you call them.”

“Human is a better term than ‘the Race of Men.’ It’s gender neutral after all,” I insisted. She simply hummed in response. I stood from the bed and came over to look at the fabric in her hands. “That’s quite impressive. My mother tried teaching once, but she wasn’t that good herself.”

Baineth’s silver eyes widened in shock. “You do not know how to sew?”

“Nope,” I replied casually.

“It is a very important skill to have!”

I tilted my head in thought. “I suppose you’re right. Are you willing to teach me?”

She nodded happily. “Of course, my lady!”

“Daisy,” I corrected.

She smiled. “Daisy.”

After being given a fabric to work with along with the basics, I started practicing. We sat in silence, both of us concentrated on our work, until she decided to break it.

“If you do not mind me asking, Miss Daisy, were you ever ‘seeing someone?’”

I smiled at her use of my vernacular. “Yes, actually. I’ve had numerous… er, courtships. I was engaged in fact.”

I didn’t stop surprising her, it seemed. “Really? You were betrothed? ”

I smiled fondly. “Yeah, his name was Wade. He used to be such a nice guy.”

“Used to be?”

My smile fell. “It’s a long story. I’m sorry, but it’s a private matter.”

She ducked her head. “I apologize for intruding, my lady.”

I didn’t correct her this time.