Annalaliath thought as she and the others walked back to the common room. She thought of the people she had left behind. Had she been selfish too? She shook her golden head at the thought. "No, " she whispered. The people in her life were the ones who had betrayed her. Gone into the west or they distrusted her. She knew this, but didn't know why. She had always been the utmost friend; to those that she considered true friends (even those she didn't). But the rest of the snobby people of her own race seemed not to trust her, and not to forgive. The only ones who had ever been forgiving had been her father, and the Lady of the wood (Galadirel). Not even her mother had forgiven her for her laughing at her father's fall. Or any of the rest of them. She was too silly to be an elf. She was a monster because she could not sit still. And so on and so on. The thoughts made anger swell in her chest; and she hated them. Annalaliath realy hated them.
She suddenly felt weary, she wanted to be accepted by her own kin for what she was not what they wanted of her. "Maybe this is why I don't trust him," she thought of the elf sitting at their table fingering the flute. She let out a sigh of relief and held back the fierce word and anger that she would have brought out. "Maybe it is time to trust and be trusted again," she whispered.
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Bloody Stumps!!!
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