Lord Morris of the House of Girithlin feared for his ill wife. She laid in bed, ill and expecting her child, his child, to come soon. His three sons would crowd around their mother every day, which made the lovely lady’s pale blue eyes shine with joy as she would smile. However, Lord Morris could not bring himself to her bedside with the same smile.
The healers who had come all said the same thing, that she would die, and more than likely, so would her child. Lady Annsa was not a strong woman, she was calm and timid. But she was a lovely woman, with long black hair, her skin was flawless, being quite pale on a normal day. The sight of her smile could make even the meanest savage smile. Though now she laid in bed, unable to walk and simply waiting for her death.
And death came almost too soon. Though the child she bore, a young girl who looked identical to her mother, was too stubborn to die. At first the child was silent, the healers thought she was dead. But after a few minutes, a loud cry filled the house. But it was replaced by a horrid cry when the three brothers found their dead mother. The two younger ones were of the age of four and six, they thought that it was the baby that caused their mother’s death. But the eldest of the three, who at the time was of the age of ten. He understood the concept of illnesses, better than even his father.
The baby was given the name Elodiel Girithlin, the name her mother wished for her to bear. She was a beautiful baby who grew to be a beautiful young girl. She had the same long, black hair, pale blue eyes, and light skin tone as her mother, and the sight of her constantly reminded Lord Morris of his dead wife. Her older two brothers turned a hatred towards her. It was only Wylie, the eldest of Elodiel’s brothers, looked upon her fondly. Even Lord Morris disliked his beautiful daughter. He blamed himself and the young girl for the death of his beloved wife. In his eyes, if Elodiel had not been born, Lady Annsa would still be alive.
The one trait of Lady Annsa that young Elodiel did not have was the timid, quietness. Elodiel was well known among the servants for her loud, opinionated mouth. However, it was improper for a lady to voice her own opinion as Elodiel commonly did. When she was little, most just found it cute, yet Lord Morris found himself humiliated by such. When Elodiel reached an age of ten, she remained the stubborn girl she was. Until one day at dinner, Elodiel’s older two brothers, Humphrey and Birley, were voicing a distaste for a servant of their house by the name of Cayden.
Their father brushed the topic away simply saying, “If you find a distaste towards a servant, then you shall just force him from our home. They are just commoners, they are below you, my sons.”
Her father’s comment made Elodiel’s blood boil till she snapped at him, saying in a tone of disgust, “Father! How dare you say such a thing? Commoners are humans too, and do not deserve to lose their home and income for they simply found themselves to be the cause of annoyance to a Lord’s bratty sons.”
This earned Elodiel a strike in the face as she fell backwards, clutching her cheek. Warm blood dripped from her nose from her father’s strike as she stared in horror, her father roaring in anger at her. His words were hateful, telling her of all of the flaws in her personality. Tears filled the young girl’s eyes till she suddenly realized that Wylie was behind her, lifting her to her feet and gently guiding her away from their father’s rage. Wylie was twenty at the time, ten years older than Elodiel. He was a handsome man, sharing very similar traits to Elodiel except his dark brown eyes. Though unlike his father, Wylie held the same loving person as his mother had.
He knelt down to his little sister once they were away from their father and laughing brothers, hugging her gently and wiping the deep red blood from Elodiel’s nose with a cloth. His words to her were kind and gentle, warning her that she needed to learn to hold her tongue around their father or she would only get hurt. That was the first time Elodiel had ever been struck, and the first time she had ever seen the glance of blood. Wylie led his sister to her room and left her there to sleep. When the sun rose and Elodiel pushed herself from her bed, she found that her cheek had turned blue in the night. She had never seen a bruise before, and ran to Wylie in fear of what had happened. Though she found relief when he told her it would only be temporary, and her skin would go back to the way it was before.
That wasn’t the last time Lord Morris struck his daughter however, it was merely the first. Throughout her life, Elodiel would do one thing or another that would anger her father and earn her a bruise. Whether it was her sneaking away from her tutor to go play in the gardens when she was thirteen, or if it was her talking back to her older brothers when she was around fifteen. When Elodiel reached the age of eighteen, she found a habit of slipping away from her father’s estate and ride atop her horse into the nature of Gondor. She had learned not to fear her father’s rage, but she found it fun to fuel it, even if it did lead a bruise to being put onto her skin.
The young girl made sure to let her father know he did not own her, he could strike her as hard as he wanted, but he would not break her. Elodiel was too strong willed to give in. However, one day as Elodiel rode to a small town nearby, wearing a plain dress she had gotten from a servant who was also her close friend by the name of Jena, Elodiel found herself in the small tavern. She spoke with a former servant her father, Cayden, who had no clue who she was.
The two began to continue talk for the next year, until Elodiel turned nineteen and her father produced a list of suitors. Elodiel came to her brother, Wylie, who was twenty-nine at the time, and spoke to him about her love for Cayden. His advice to her was that her father, no matter how much he struck her, would be more than happy to marry her off to anyone, commoner or not. However, when Elodiel presented Cayden to her father, she found her brother had been wrong. Her father found it disgraceful that she would even consider such a thing. A commoner for a husband.
Lord Morris finally did the one thing he never expected, he casted his daughter, the spitting image of his wife, away from his home and family. Elodiel said her goodbyes to Jena and Wylie, and she left the house with Cayden, not returning to speak to them for the next four years.
Her life turned into one of a commoner, with her husband Cayden who had begun work as a blacksmith. Though to the two’s dismay, Elodiel had never given Cayden a child, which neither knew why. And then, one night when Elodiel returned home, carrying a basket of flowers she had picked from her small garden. She sat the flowers on the table of their small, two room cottage and called out for her husband. Though there was no response. Elodiel made her way to the second small room, the fireplace had been empty since it was still daylight outside.
Upon the bed laid Cayden, blood seeping from his blood and throat as he laid still and lifeless. Elodiel fell to her knees letting out a cry of terror before crawling to the bedside. She gently grabbed her husband’s hand, gripping to it tightly as she reaches out and shut her husband’s eyes. Her hands and dress was covered with Cayden’s blood when she hugged him, until their friend stopped in to find Elodiel weeping over her husband’s body.
A small funeral was held, though none of the townsfolk had money for anything big. Only their friends and Cayden’s sister had appeared to say good bye. And then Elodiel set out to her father’s estate, standing before the Lord Morris and pleading for his aid. She had never asked favors of her father, she always refused to show him she was weak. But despair and exhaustion reached her, and she longed for her comforts at home. Lord Morris simply laughed, sending his back fist to his daughter’s cheek, but this time she caught his hand.
“Do not strike me, Lord Morris,” she had said sternly.
Her father pulled his hand back, snapping at her in his deep, cold voice, “You foolish child, you think that if I had wished for your homecoming I would have sent men to kill your commoner husband? He disgraced your name.”
Elodiel felt rage as she simply spun around, marching away from her father to keep herself from lashing out at him. Though on her way out, a set of golden daggers caught Elodiel’s eye. She reached to the wall, yanking them from the display they sat in and slipped them into the pockets of her dress before walking out. After that, Elodiel turned form her father and Gondor, leaving till she made her way to Bree. She was twenty five when she came to Bree. Alone, she formed the name Annsuel, burying Elodiel into her past.
