[Araréiel]

She felt taken-aback, shocked to be noticed. Even the Innkeeper scampered away without seeing her. She willed the tears to not fall. "I-I-I know not of where I am heading, nor where I am heading, o-only that I never wish to return home." Araréiel glanced over her shoulder, feeling the need to be certain that he was really talking to her.

When she remained quiet afterward, Eryndil softly asked her, "My lady, please tell me your name."

A tear slipped from her eye, followed by another. Araréiel searched her sack for a cloth or something to dry her eyes. A hand appeared before her, a handkershief held out to her. "Thank you," she said, taking the kerchief to dry her eyes, embarassed that she should cry in front of a stranger. Yet, somehow, she also felt she could tell him more now that he had seen her tears.

"My name is Araréiel, and I am from Eryn Lasgalen. I left home because my family sent away the one I loved. I am of noble blood, and he wasn't. He was but a servant in my father's home. But he loved me, and I, him. So I left. 'Tis better for me to be out and alone rather than surrounded by comforts and those who wish me unhappy. A cage is a cage, even if it is gold."

Her desperate, pale, lilac-blue eyes stared imploringly into his, but for what she was desperate she prefered to not think about. She longed for affection, affection she had deprived of so long, and she dared not to hope to find it again. Her soul starved for someone who understood her, accepted her and what she felt rather than those whom had previously surrounded her, expecting her to be someone she was not simply because of her station in life. The heart does not choose who it loves, just as hers had not chosen to love Caranturion and could not be forced to love a royal or another noble.

Araréiel dropped a hand to her lap, clutching the kerchief with her other. For the first time in a long time she felt calm, as if maybe, just maybe, she were in the presence of a kindrid spirit. The Elf before her appeared to be one who had many travels, perhaps had seen excitement and far lands while she had seen nothing extraordinary. "From where do you come, and to where do you head, my lord? Or may I call you...Eryndil?"

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EDIT by Pio:

Please note the Inn Facts at the top of the page. The forest your character is from is no longer called Mirkwood - it was renamed after the War of the Ring to Eryn Lasgalen.

Thanks!