[Nerwen]

Alatariel Moonflower was used to rejection. So many times she had tried to reach out to another Elf, only to be dismissed as unworthy, flawed, an embarrassment to the Firstborn. Thus, when the one she had greeted so hopefully suddenly got to his feet, pushed past her without a word and staggered away, she was saddened but not surprised. Only a solitary crystal tear marred the perfection of her alabaster cheek.

"What did I expect?" she muttered to herself. "Why should care if one more person spurns me, after... after... G-Glor– Glor– fin -del!"

Another tear, glittering like a priceless gem, welled up in her equally jewel-like eye, and then another. Moonflower was seized with a fit of uncontrollable sobbing, which only rendered her more beautiful, and definitely didn't make her nose run or her eyes puff up or anything like that. More and more sparkling tears streamed from her beautiful, sightless jade-green orbs. Frantically she tried to dry them with her cloak.

Suddenly she became aware that the background snoring had stopped, and that several of the patrons were no longer sprawled in drunken stupor, but were sitting bolt upright. She could not see their expressions– not without using more power than she had the heart for in her distraught state– but she had no doubt that they were staring at her.

Had they been awakened by the sound of her weeping? What would they think of the sobbing creature in their midst? Would they offer her violence? What horrors would their lewd minds conceive when they discovered that the mysterious cloaked stranger was a radiantly lovely Elfess?

Not wanting to find out, Moonflower groped her way outside.

Bree was cold, wet and miserable, but Moonflower was only glad that the weather was in keeping with her mood. She wandered on aimlessly, caring nothing for the mud that fouled the border of her plain green velvet cloak and besmirched the silver-broidered hem of her simple white silk travelling gown with its cuffs and collar of the finest snowy lace, its sleeves and skirt worked with niphredil flowers in silver thread and its bodice with seed-pearls in the shape of the Two Trees.

All the blind Elfess asked was to be left alone with her sorrow, but even that was not to be granted her, it seemed.

Ahead of her she "saw" a figure lying in the Road, and two more bending over him. Someone, it appeared was injured, and was being aided by his friends.

"At least he has friends," the outcast she-Elf muttered under her breath.

The constant scorn Moonflower had suffered from the world could not destroy her natural compassion. She was just about to offer to help, when somehow– through her innate intuition– she realised that all was not as it seemed.

Moonflower shuddered, sensing she was in the presence of evil... evil that might overpower even her brave and noble spirit. She was relieved when she heard someone approaching from the direction of the inn... until the newcomer got close enough for her to recognise the sound of his footsteps.

It was the stranger she had tried to befriend... who had brushed her aside as though she did not even exist.