Her eyes blinded by tears, Merisuwyniel stumbled, tripping over a tree root. Instead of landing on the ground in a most undignified manner, as might reasonably have been expected, she was sustained in the sir, held by two strong arms.
“Why are you running away from me?” the Orc asked, troubled by her reaction.
“You killed my kinsmen!” she sobbed.
“I did not even touch them, nor did they die by my sword, but by their own clumsiness,” he explained.
“Fair Holdit, robbed untimely of his immortality,” she mourned.
“Had he stayed in Topfloorien where he belonged, he would still be alive,” he answered, not unreasonably.
While she yet hesitated, longing to believe his words, yet horrified at the bloody sight she had witnessed, Fate separated them cruelly. In this case, Fate took on the forms of a bevy of Fangirls, called the Holdithotties.
“I know he went in this direction!” one of them shouted.
“But this is the wrong forest,” said another. “Are you sure it was him?”
“Hey, I have that face on posters all over my room,” the first answered. “There’s no mistaking him – he’s sooooo dreamy!”
“Yeah,” exclaimed a third. “And we’ll show those Figwit4ever girls who’s the coolest Elf!”
“Holdit!” All stopped suddenly, running into each other rather ungracefully.
“Where? Where?”
“There!” A shocked Fangirl pointed to the prostrate figure lying in the clearing. “Oh no! He’s dead!”
“And there’s his murderer, trying to capture one of us!” They approached Gravlox menacingly, seeing him with sword in hand, holding Merisuwyniel by the arm.
“How dare you kill the cutest Elf that ever lived, you ugly Orc?” the loudest of them shouted. “Now we won’t be able to see him in the sequel!”
Gravlox had faced armies of fierce warriors unafraid, but this foe was too terrifying for him. Who could blame him for letting go of Merisuwyniel’s arm and fleeing, back to the safety of the fortress of Gol Dulldor…
Weeping, she knew not whether for the slain Elves or the disillusionment of her lost love, Merisuwyniel made her way through the trees, back in the direction of the camp.
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'Mercy!' cried Gandalf. 'If the giving of information is to be the cure of your inquisitiveness, I shall spend all the rest of my days in answering you. What more do you want to know?' 'The whole history of Middle-earth.. .'
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