Laurialassië,” Laurie murmured under her breath. The beautiful Elven word sounded
strange on her foreign tongue, but a great warmth spread through her when she repeated
the name. ‘The name my mother gave me,’ Laurie shivered slightly. Any remnant, the least detail, of her mother’s life fascinated Laurie and she had long cherished the name her mother had bestowed upon her. And to hear it in the true Elvish form was quite an experience. ‘Which means... my mother was familiar with the Elvish tongue,’ Laurie realized with a start. Outside her thoughts, Amaranthas patted her arm kindly.
“Did your father have no keepsakes of hers that he handed down to you?” she asked. “Surely a Mother would leave something special for her only daughter.”
A short laugh escaped the young girl’s lips before she answered. “I can think of no better gift than the name she gave me.”
The old hobbit’s black eyes nearly disappeared under the many wrinkles as she laughed. Pio smiled and stood to clear the table of the empty cups and plates.
“There is one thing she left, however.” The clatter of plates being set into the stone sink paused as Pio looked back over her shoulder.
“My mother did not wear much jewelry; when she rode out of the West, she only bore
such things as were necessary for the journey. Her long, golden locks were held by a delicate hair clasp, however, and as far as I can tell, it is the only evidence of her former life. I have it here,” and from the folds of her white dress, Laurie brought forth a thin clasp. It seemed to shimmer in the light, the iridescent surface glimmered and danced.
“It is made of some kind of shell, I think. I prefer to leave my own hair loose, and am
frankly too frightened to wear it out of fear that is should fall and be lost forever.” Laurie passed the clasp to Amaranthas who brought it close to her black eyes to better examine before handing it to Pio.
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