Post by The Pilot on Oct 27, 2007 19:11:20 GMT -5
Lauren't couldn't really stand being inside. She was getting a bit restless and anxious, and so decided to explore the property while waiting for a giant animal to show up.
The young ranger exited the way she came in, first to count how many buildings there were, and eventually came to a grand total of four: the main house, the stables, the barn, and kitchen. (She pondered that last one until she remembered something about kitchens in that period being separate from the house because fires happened quite often while cooking, which she found out through a Ken Follett book.)
She idly walked about the property for a while, visited the horses out in the pasture and Miril as well, and took a nice long walk through the orchards. All the while, she kept an eye and ear out for signs of an arrival.
She found out that the orchards contained apple, olive, pear, and walnut trees. (“Bleh,” she said to the walnut trees.) It was late afternoon, but most probably considered evening to most by the time she got to inspecting the trees. She walked down the silent rows in a tense tranquility with little more than the wind through the leaves and a bird here and there to fill the air. The granite-based soil crunched beneath her feet. The sun warmed her backside. And indeed, when all the little pieces were put together, even considering the hilly terrain and distant mountains, it felt like home. And despite her nervous, watchful eye, Lauren was no longer in Middle-earth, but back in Southern California, in her backyard as it pressed up against the feet of the San Gabriel mountains.
She walked among the trees, lost in their monotonous repetition (and she was also rather far from the house, now), and followed the row as it curved over a small and gentle hill. At the top there was a sparse patch of grass, and so she took a sit. With her back against the trunk of a rather large apple tree, she sighed and gazed northward. She could see Mindolluin clearly, but the white city was barely a smudge on the horizon. The Anduin, as it curves westward around Minas Tirith, seemed to her like a black smear, long and elegant. Down and off to the left she could make out the town at the foot of the hill.
Lauren was there for quite some time, and before she knew it, dusk was upon her. There was no sign of a giant robot to be seen, which made her a little nervous. Like... wouldn't a freakin'... robot that size be able to cover ground faster than she could? Or at least on par with a running horse? Maybe he got lost. Navigating unfamiliar territory, even if he did have on-board navigational systems, would be a tricky thing, right? She stood up, brushing off her butt, and headed back in the direction of the house. Dinner was at sundown, so she needed to get going. Lauren, technically being undead, wasn't hungry, but that didn't mean she couldn't put away a good plate of food, and that also didn't mean she could skimp out on every meal. People would start thinking she was weirder than she already was if she never ate.
She made it back to the house just short of ten minutes later, and still no trace of an Autobot. She trudged into the house, worry gnawing at her stomach. The halls were dark, lit by candles and sconces on the walls. Every large room housed a hearth, alive and well, to light the space. She meandered down the main corridor, following it to the very end to reach the dining hall. The Lord was seated already, and so too was Bergil next to another man who she assumed to be Beregond, as well as the stablemaster, and two other people. However, there was another new face at the table, and she sat next to Faramir. She was long and elegant, though didn't seem to lack strength of her own right. Her hair was a bright gold, braided down her back, and upon her brow was a simple circlet. Beside her and another, older woman, was a young boy of about four. Lauren stood in the doorway, mouth slightly agape as she looked on the family of the Steward of Gondor. There they all were: Faramir, Eowyn, and their son, who could have been none other than Elboron. (How she remembered that obscure name, she would never know.)
“Surely you will not stand in the door for the remainder of the meal, Laurelin?” she was surprised to hear Eowyn speak to her.
“Oh, I..” she stammered. Lauren bowed clumsily and headed for the nearest chair at the table, a nervous smile on her face. Bergil laughed.
“I do not know how the Princes of Amroth would have it, but the etiquette of this estate is not so austere,” Beregond said. His voice was rich, weathered, and extremely kind. “And also it would do you well to not mind my son. He is not so used to guests of your persuasion.” Bergil shot a look at his father and turned beet red.
Lauren just giggled in return, slightly more at ease. It didn't help much that she was worrying over her rendezvous still. The combination of this dinner and concerns about the rendezvous was making her rather uneasy, to say the least.
“Come,” Faramir said, smiling. “Enough with this idle talk. Let us eat!” The food, already on the table, began to get torn apart by hungry hands.
Lauren gazed longingly at it, as though she weren't entitled to any. With another encouragement, she began to pick at the meal. Beregond, who sat directly adjacent, served her a good portion of pork., setting it on her pewter plate. She grabbed a few slices of apple, cheese, and bread, wondering for only a moment about the beverage situation when a serving woman came around to fill her cup with wine.
Wine.
Now, had Lauren been the rebellious and hedonistic type, she'd have gotten tattoos already, and they probably would have been two black “X”s inked in the backs of her hands. Yes, this late teenager was straightedge, but unfortunately in this world, such a thing didn't exist. She imagined that it would be horribly impolite to decline the offering, seeing as the young boy was the only one at the table drinking a non-alcoholic beverage: milk.
But besides the fact that she didn't approve of alcohol, Lauren didn't care much for the taste anyway.
“So!” said Faramir. “I desire to hear more of you, Laurelin of Amroth.” His tone was warm and welcoming, but it still retained that softness she imagined that his brother didn't often have. When she was reminded of Boromir, though, she began to wonder what he might have looked like...
“Yes, lady. Tell us how a steed of Rivendell came into your possession,” Bergil chimed in.
Lauren swallowed hard. She needed a moment, but unfortunately there were no Snickers bars to be had, so she reached for her wineglass and took a big, long, disgusting gulp that ended in a cough. “I'm afraid I've been sworn to secrecy,” she said at length. Not only was the excuse the lamest that anyone could have ever possibly thought up, it was also true.
Everyone looked at her strangely until Eowyn burst forth in light laughter. “You cannot be serious?” She smiled.
The girl laughed aloud as well, though it was a nervous laugh. The kind just a little too loud and a little too long to be convincing, but she still hoped no one could see through her. “That was a lie, I'm afraid,” she began, sighing for dramatic and comedic effect. “How I truly acquired the horse was not as glamorous as you might have thought... Narthas bought her from an elf in Rivendell on one of his journeys to serve as a beast of burden. He lent her to me several weeks ago when we came to Minas Tirith, and he does want her back sometime in the foreseeable future.”
Everyone laughed, much to Lauren's relief.
“What a shame,” Beregond said. “Perhaps it was best that you left us to conjure up some elaborate tale ourselves!”
She smiled. “You did insist, however.”
“That we did.”
***
Dinner after that went smoothly. They all engaged in jokes and idle chatter, and despite being welcomed into the family, she still felt estranged for obvious reasons. And her apprehension about the Autobots only worsened as the night drew on.
After the meal, Lauren retreated to her room. After pacing for a short while, she resolved to collapsing on the bed, staring at the ceiling, and wondering what she should do in the off chance that something happened to either Narthas or the Autobots since she left the city. She was vaguely aware of a small itch on her stomach, and so did as any person would do, and scratched it. Her fingers caught on some extremely alien shapes, and she looked down to see the awful line of stitches holding her gut together. How she forgot about that was beyond her. If anyone saw those, there would be MANY more questions for her to answer.
Lauren wasn't entirely aware of when she dropped off, but she did wake up in the middle of the night, drool on the pillow, and day clothes making uncomfortable creases on her sides. She changed into a shift and went back to bed. However, just as she was about to collapse again, she looked out the window to see what she could see. It was almost a full moon, and the landscape was just barely illuminated by the dull glow. After a few moments of staring, a pair of flashing lights caught her attention in the sky before disappearing out of her field of vision. Her heart jumped. Was that an enemy spacecraft, or were they more allies? Lauren strained to espy more, but the few minutes she tried yielded nothing. She retreated back to bed in defeat, and wondered where Narthas was...
There was a tapping on the window.
Lauren was not entirely aware of it, and so in a mindless effort to make it go away, she turned over. Unfortunately, that didn't help. The tapping grew louder, and the girl groaned as she almost painfully opened her eyes to find herself in a dark room still. Was it morning yet? She looked to the window, eyes squinting from fatigue, and saw a hulking silhouette blocking the light. The cogs turned in her head, and suddenly she leapt out of bed and darted to the window. Lauren unlatched one pane and pushed it outward.
“Hound! Jesus Christ, thank god you made it! I was getting really worried.”
“I got into a bit of a fight last night,” he whispered. “Sorry for the delay.”
“You did? With who? What happened?”
“Fortunately, it wasn't one of those psychic things in black. Simple Decepticon scout: deactivated him without too much trouble... only thing is, I can't transform now. Something's jammed in my left side here.”
“Goddamnit,” she muttered under her breath. “You can't be running around like that. If even one person sees you, it's all over. Soldiers everywhere. And even though they're highly skilled in what they do, it would be a massacre when they went up against Sith and Decepticons.” She wasn't angry with him, just a little scared. “I'll be out in a few minutes; let me get changed.”
She watched him as he glanced around and proceeded to make his stealthy way over to the first line of trees in the orchard.
Lauren got dressed in an extra set of clothes, fastened the sword-belt around her, slipped her boots on, and grabbed a bottle of IBC root beer from her bag. The CD player caught her attention for only a moment before she closed the bag tightly and climbed out the window. About a minute of jogging brought her back to Hound who was crouched behind a large, sagging olive tree.
“Alright, where is it?”
The robot lowered himself to the ground even further so Lauren could reach the spot he was pointing to: under his arm on the left side. “See what you can see.”
He lifted his arm up and Lauren got up close, trying to figure out what was what. All the mechanical pieces that made him up were extremely complicated, and she had a hard time discerning anything from anything else at first. But a few moments of studying the pieces, and she was able to find the root of the problem.
“You've got a rock lodged in there,” she said, standing up straight again. “Pretty good size.”
Hound looked at her with his bright blue optics. “Can you get it?”
“Will it hurt?”
He shook his head. “Shouldn't.”
“I'll give it a try. Just don't move or you'll crush my hand.” She stepped up to his side again, and reached in. Hound was deathly still. The girl maneuvered around all sorts of metal bits, tubes, and wires until she was able to grasp the rock. She gave it a good tug, but it seemed to be stuck.
“You got it?” he asked over his shoulder.
“It's in there really good. Lemme see if I can get my other hand in there.” With more careful navigation, she was able to reach the stone and hold onto it with both hands. She gathered all her strength and with a considerable cry, she wrenched the thing free and fell backward onto the ground, clutching a stone about seven inches in diameter. She handed it to Hound.
The Autobot studied it for a moment before tossing it away. “Thanks! I really owe you one,” he said, smiling and standing up again.
“Alright,” she said. “What's the plan now? Where do we go from here?”
“Narthas says he wants you to go the The Underground and find out what you can there. I'm pretty sure that he and Airlock and Gasket started making their way west to investigate the mining operations in the mountains yesterday. And from there we'll determine if I need to call for reinforcements or not.”
“Yeah... yeah.” Lauren nodded and began to pace. “That's good. But what about Fen? Did Narthas say anything specifically about Fen.”
“I think he mentioned him getting allies from his neck of the woods.”
“Kay, that's good. If we're lucky, maybe we can get some Jedi too. That will definitely help with the Sith problem.”
“What are Jedi?”
“They're the non-evil versions of Sith.”
“Oh! Great. We need some of those...”
Suddenly she heard Bergil. “Laurelin!” he was calling as he walked away from the house and toward the orchard.
“FUCK,” she hissed. “Hound. You gotta hide.”
The Autobot glanced around. “Where!?”
“I don't know! Just, go! You have to go!” She watched him transform into his giant cougar form and he darted off through the trees.
“Laurelin!” Bergil broke into a sprint and drew his sword the instant he spotted Hound. Lauren just stood there, heart racing, not quite sure what to do. The young man ran over to her. “Are you alright? Did it attack you?” He looked over her shoulder in the direction where he last saw the beast. “Tell me you are uninjured.”
“I'm fine, I'm fine. As soon as he saw me, he ran the other way. What did you come to tell me?”
Bergil studied her with his slate gray eyes before taking a step back. “I was sent to warn you that giant mountain lion had been seen yesterday near town. And also that Lord Faramir wishes to speak to you about your duties as a servant in his house.”
She groaned inwardly. She didn't want to do that. There was no time. She had to get back to Minas Tirith ASAP!
“Aye,” she sighed, and proceeded to follow him back to the house.
***
“How are you with children?” Eowyn asked.
Lauren was sitting in Faramir's study for her meeting with the Lord and Lady. Well, it was more of an interview.
“I love children,” she answered truthfully. “And they generally love me in turn. If you're wanting me to school Elboron, then that I am not so sure about, but I am more than skilled in keeping him happy and entertained.”
“Wonderful,” Eowyn smiled. “The other servants are often busy enough as it is, and Bergil has little of a nuturing mind, I'm afraid. Good, tell us more.”
“Well... I can cook, though you might not want me to clean so much, as I'm a little OCD..”
“OCD?”
Lauren mentally kicked herself. “Let us say that when I start to clean, I can spend an entire day on a single room. But... I can draw and build some things, though I do not know how those things might serve you in a useful manner.”
“It all counts,” encouraged Faramir.
“I think,” Eowyn began. “That your duties will begin with Elboron.”
Lauren nodded her head. “That I can do,” she said. She began to think about exactly how she was going to babysit the little bugger in between saving the world and all that and thought that perhaps getting fired and kicked out was not as horrible of a consequence as the civilizations of Middle-earth getting annihilated. But for now, the situation would have to suffice.
“Good,” she said. “You can start when Faramir and I leave for Osgiliath tomorrow. We shall be gone for three days. Is that all right with you, Laurelin?”
She nodded again. “Just wonderful.”
The young ranger exited the way she came in, first to count how many buildings there were, and eventually came to a grand total of four: the main house, the stables, the barn, and kitchen. (She pondered that last one until she remembered something about kitchens in that period being separate from the house because fires happened quite often while cooking, which she found out through a Ken Follett book.)
She idly walked about the property for a while, visited the horses out in the pasture and Miril as well, and took a nice long walk through the orchards. All the while, she kept an eye and ear out for signs of an arrival.
She found out that the orchards contained apple, olive, pear, and walnut trees. (“Bleh,” she said to the walnut trees.) It was late afternoon, but most probably considered evening to most by the time she got to inspecting the trees. She walked down the silent rows in a tense tranquility with little more than the wind through the leaves and a bird here and there to fill the air. The granite-based soil crunched beneath her feet. The sun warmed her backside. And indeed, when all the little pieces were put together, even considering the hilly terrain and distant mountains, it felt like home. And despite her nervous, watchful eye, Lauren was no longer in Middle-earth, but back in Southern California, in her backyard as it pressed up against the feet of the San Gabriel mountains.
She walked among the trees, lost in their monotonous repetition (and she was also rather far from the house, now), and followed the row as it curved over a small and gentle hill. At the top there was a sparse patch of grass, and so she took a sit. With her back against the trunk of a rather large apple tree, she sighed and gazed northward. She could see Mindolluin clearly, but the white city was barely a smudge on the horizon. The Anduin, as it curves westward around Minas Tirith, seemed to her like a black smear, long and elegant. Down and off to the left she could make out the town at the foot of the hill.
Lauren was there for quite some time, and before she knew it, dusk was upon her. There was no sign of a giant robot to be seen, which made her a little nervous. Like... wouldn't a freakin'... robot that size be able to cover ground faster than she could? Or at least on par with a running horse? Maybe he got lost. Navigating unfamiliar territory, even if he did have on-board navigational systems, would be a tricky thing, right? She stood up, brushing off her butt, and headed back in the direction of the house. Dinner was at sundown, so she needed to get going. Lauren, technically being undead, wasn't hungry, but that didn't mean she couldn't put away a good plate of food, and that also didn't mean she could skimp out on every meal. People would start thinking she was weirder than she already was if she never ate.
She made it back to the house just short of ten minutes later, and still no trace of an Autobot. She trudged into the house, worry gnawing at her stomach. The halls were dark, lit by candles and sconces on the walls. Every large room housed a hearth, alive and well, to light the space. She meandered down the main corridor, following it to the very end to reach the dining hall. The Lord was seated already, and so too was Bergil next to another man who she assumed to be Beregond, as well as the stablemaster, and two other people. However, there was another new face at the table, and she sat next to Faramir. She was long and elegant, though didn't seem to lack strength of her own right. Her hair was a bright gold, braided down her back, and upon her brow was a simple circlet. Beside her and another, older woman, was a young boy of about four. Lauren stood in the doorway, mouth slightly agape as she looked on the family of the Steward of Gondor. There they all were: Faramir, Eowyn, and their son, who could have been none other than Elboron. (How she remembered that obscure name, she would never know.)
“Surely you will not stand in the door for the remainder of the meal, Laurelin?” she was surprised to hear Eowyn speak to her.
“Oh, I..” she stammered. Lauren bowed clumsily and headed for the nearest chair at the table, a nervous smile on her face. Bergil laughed.
“I do not know how the Princes of Amroth would have it, but the etiquette of this estate is not so austere,” Beregond said. His voice was rich, weathered, and extremely kind. “And also it would do you well to not mind my son. He is not so used to guests of your persuasion.” Bergil shot a look at his father and turned beet red.
Lauren just giggled in return, slightly more at ease. It didn't help much that she was worrying over her rendezvous still. The combination of this dinner and concerns about the rendezvous was making her rather uneasy, to say the least.
“Come,” Faramir said, smiling. “Enough with this idle talk. Let us eat!” The food, already on the table, began to get torn apart by hungry hands.
Lauren gazed longingly at it, as though she weren't entitled to any. With another encouragement, she began to pick at the meal. Beregond, who sat directly adjacent, served her a good portion of pork., setting it on her pewter plate. She grabbed a few slices of apple, cheese, and bread, wondering for only a moment about the beverage situation when a serving woman came around to fill her cup with wine.
Wine.
Now, had Lauren been the rebellious and hedonistic type, she'd have gotten tattoos already, and they probably would have been two black “X”s inked in the backs of her hands. Yes, this late teenager was straightedge, but unfortunately in this world, such a thing didn't exist. She imagined that it would be horribly impolite to decline the offering, seeing as the young boy was the only one at the table drinking a non-alcoholic beverage: milk.
But besides the fact that she didn't approve of alcohol, Lauren didn't care much for the taste anyway.
“So!” said Faramir. “I desire to hear more of you, Laurelin of Amroth.” His tone was warm and welcoming, but it still retained that softness she imagined that his brother didn't often have. When she was reminded of Boromir, though, she began to wonder what he might have looked like...
“Yes, lady. Tell us how a steed of Rivendell came into your possession,” Bergil chimed in.
Lauren swallowed hard. She needed a moment, but unfortunately there were no Snickers bars to be had, so she reached for her wineglass and took a big, long, disgusting gulp that ended in a cough. “I'm afraid I've been sworn to secrecy,” she said at length. Not only was the excuse the lamest that anyone could have ever possibly thought up, it was also true.
Everyone looked at her strangely until Eowyn burst forth in light laughter. “You cannot be serious?” She smiled.
The girl laughed aloud as well, though it was a nervous laugh. The kind just a little too loud and a little too long to be convincing, but she still hoped no one could see through her. “That was a lie, I'm afraid,” she began, sighing for dramatic and comedic effect. “How I truly acquired the horse was not as glamorous as you might have thought... Narthas bought her from an elf in Rivendell on one of his journeys to serve as a beast of burden. He lent her to me several weeks ago when we came to Minas Tirith, and he does want her back sometime in the foreseeable future.”
Everyone laughed, much to Lauren's relief.
“What a shame,” Beregond said. “Perhaps it was best that you left us to conjure up some elaborate tale ourselves!”
She smiled. “You did insist, however.”
“That we did.”
***
Dinner after that went smoothly. They all engaged in jokes and idle chatter, and despite being welcomed into the family, she still felt estranged for obvious reasons. And her apprehension about the Autobots only worsened as the night drew on.
After the meal, Lauren retreated to her room. After pacing for a short while, she resolved to collapsing on the bed, staring at the ceiling, and wondering what she should do in the off chance that something happened to either Narthas or the Autobots since she left the city. She was vaguely aware of a small itch on her stomach, and so did as any person would do, and scratched it. Her fingers caught on some extremely alien shapes, and she looked down to see the awful line of stitches holding her gut together. How she forgot about that was beyond her. If anyone saw those, there would be MANY more questions for her to answer.
Lauren wasn't entirely aware of when she dropped off, but she did wake up in the middle of the night, drool on the pillow, and day clothes making uncomfortable creases on her sides. She changed into a shift and went back to bed. However, just as she was about to collapse again, she looked out the window to see what she could see. It was almost a full moon, and the landscape was just barely illuminated by the dull glow. After a few moments of staring, a pair of flashing lights caught her attention in the sky before disappearing out of her field of vision. Her heart jumped. Was that an enemy spacecraft, or were they more allies? Lauren strained to espy more, but the few minutes she tried yielded nothing. She retreated back to bed in defeat, and wondered where Narthas was...
There was a tapping on the window.
Lauren was not entirely aware of it, and so in a mindless effort to make it go away, she turned over. Unfortunately, that didn't help. The tapping grew louder, and the girl groaned as she almost painfully opened her eyes to find herself in a dark room still. Was it morning yet? She looked to the window, eyes squinting from fatigue, and saw a hulking silhouette blocking the light. The cogs turned in her head, and suddenly she leapt out of bed and darted to the window. Lauren unlatched one pane and pushed it outward.
“Hound! Jesus Christ, thank god you made it! I was getting really worried.”
“I got into a bit of a fight last night,” he whispered. “Sorry for the delay.”
“You did? With who? What happened?”
“Fortunately, it wasn't one of those psychic things in black. Simple Decepticon scout: deactivated him without too much trouble... only thing is, I can't transform now. Something's jammed in my left side here.”
“Goddamnit,” she muttered under her breath. “You can't be running around like that. If even one person sees you, it's all over. Soldiers everywhere. And even though they're highly skilled in what they do, it would be a massacre when they went up against Sith and Decepticons.” She wasn't angry with him, just a little scared. “I'll be out in a few minutes; let me get changed.”
She watched him as he glanced around and proceeded to make his stealthy way over to the first line of trees in the orchard.
Lauren got dressed in an extra set of clothes, fastened the sword-belt around her, slipped her boots on, and grabbed a bottle of IBC root beer from her bag. The CD player caught her attention for only a moment before she closed the bag tightly and climbed out the window. About a minute of jogging brought her back to Hound who was crouched behind a large, sagging olive tree.
“Alright, where is it?”
The robot lowered himself to the ground even further so Lauren could reach the spot he was pointing to: under his arm on the left side. “See what you can see.”
He lifted his arm up and Lauren got up close, trying to figure out what was what. All the mechanical pieces that made him up were extremely complicated, and she had a hard time discerning anything from anything else at first. But a few moments of studying the pieces, and she was able to find the root of the problem.
“You've got a rock lodged in there,” she said, standing up straight again. “Pretty good size.”
Hound looked at her with his bright blue optics. “Can you get it?”
“Will it hurt?”
He shook his head. “Shouldn't.”
“I'll give it a try. Just don't move or you'll crush my hand.” She stepped up to his side again, and reached in. Hound was deathly still. The girl maneuvered around all sorts of metal bits, tubes, and wires until she was able to grasp the rock. She gave it a good tug, but it seemed to be stuck.
“You got it?” he asked over his shoulder.
“It's in there really good. Lemme see if I can get my other hand in there.” With more careful navigation, she was able to reach the stone and hold onto it with both hands. She gathered all her strength and with a considerable cry, she wrenched the thing free and fell backward onto the ground, clutching a stone about seven inches in diameter. She handed it to Hound.
The Autobot studied it for a moment before tossing it away. “Thanks! I really owe you one,” he said, smiling and standing up again.
“Alright,” she said. “What's the plan now? Where do we go from here?”
“Narthas says he wants you to go the The Underground and find out what you can there. I'm pretty sure that he and Airlock and Gasket started making their way west to investigate the mining operations in the mountains yesterday. And from there we'll determine if I need to call for reinforcements or not.”
“Yeah... yeah.” Lauren nodded and began to pace. “That's good. But what about Fen? Did Narthas say anything specifically about Fen.”
“I think he mentioned him getting allies from his neck of the woods.”
“Kay, that's good. If we're lucky, maybe we can get some Jedi too. That will definitely help with the Sith problem.”
“What are Jedi?”
“They're the non-evil versions of Sith.”
“Oh! Great. We need some of those...”
Suddenly she heard Bergil. “Laurelin!” he was calling as he walked away from the house and toward the orchard.
“FUCK,” she hissed. “Hound. You gotta hide.”
The Autobot glanced around. “Where!?”
“I don't know! Just, go! You have to go!” She watched him transform into his giant cougar form and he darted off through the trees.
“Laurelin!” Bergil broke into a sprint and drew his sword the instant he spotted Hound. Lauren just stood there, heart racing, not quite sure what to do. The young man ran over to her. “Are you alright? Did it attack you?” He looked over her shoulder in the direction where he last saw the beast. “Tell me you are uninjured.”
“I'm fine, I'm fine. As soon as he saw me, he ran the other way. What did you come to tell me?”
Bergil studied her with his slate gray eyes before taking a step back. “I was sent to warn you that giant mountain lion had been seen yesterday near town. And also that Lord Faramir wishes to speak to you about your duties as a servant in his house.”
She groaned inwardly. She didn't want to do that. There was no time. She had to get back to Minas Tirith ASAP!
“Aye,” she sighed, and proceeded to follow him back to the house.
***
“How are you with children?” Eowyn asked.
Lauren was sitting in Faramir's study for her meeting with the Lord and Lady. Well, it was more of an interview.
“I love children,” she answered truthfully. “And they generally love me in turn. If you're wanting me to school Elboron, then that I am not so sure about, but I am more than skilled in keeping him happy and entertained.”
“Wonderful,” Eowyn smiled. “The other servants are often busy enough as it is, and Bergil has little of a nuturing mind, I'm afraid. Good, tell us more.”
“Well... I can cook, though you might not want me to clean so much, as I'm a little OCD..”
“OCD?”
Lauren mentally kicked herself. “Let us say that when I start to clean, I can spend an entire day on a single room. But... I can draw and build some things, though I do not know how those things might serve you in a useful manner.”
“It all counts,” encouraged Faramir.
“I think,” Eowyn began. “That your duties will begin with Elboron.”
Lauren nodded her head. “That I can do,” she said. She began to think about exactly how she was going to babysit the little bugger in between saving the world and all that and thought that perhaps getting fired and kicked out was not as horrible of a consequence as the civilizations of Middle-earth getting annihilated. But for now, the situation would have to suffice.
“Good,” she said. “You can start when Faramir and I leave for Osgiliath tomorrow. We shall be gone for three days. Is that all right with you, Laurelin?”
She nodded again. “Just wonderful.”
