((OOC: Hello everyone, today I bring you something some people have been asking about: The traumatizing experience from Bree, which made Daerundros hate it. Enjoy my 50th Story!! ^^ YAY!!!))
Daerundros approached the muddy, sullen gate, with a measure of caution and curiosity. She was approaching the gates of the Bree-men, and to be honest, she was not really pleased at the choice of her ways; She had heard mostly negative things about them, like the crime rates, drinking men, dirty taverns, and beggars squealing for cover.
As she approached the gate, she eyed the female guard before her warily. Unlike most Elves who passed through Bree, she was not hooded, nor was there any attempt to hide her heritage; She was too proud of her own Ñoldorin heritage to hide who she was! She was a great warrioress! That was for sure! Daerundros was clothed in simple, lofty travelling garbs which were coloured burgundy and imprinted with the crest of Hollin.
"Aye, what's a' Elf like ye doin' here?" The guard asked, she looked at Daerundros sternly, though Daerundros' stare was more than enough to quell her questions.
"I am looking for... accomodation." Daerundros watched as the Guard's eyes widened in surprise, and she hoarsely grunted slightly, stomping past the female guard grumpily, not really pleased that she was forced to spend her time in a Tavern! However, once Daerundros went through the rustic gate, she was filled with wonder.
The folk here were queer, but simple. Rustic market stalls filled the sides of the streets, while the center of the streets were laden with simple townsfolk, laughing children, the women laden with baskets of fruit and nutrition, the men wielding some tool or the other and moving about trying to get to their workplaces. Merchants were scattered here and there, shouting and advertising their wares, and the occasional beggar could be spotted among the crowd, pleading for food, or money, or something or the other which they desire. She pranced about curiously, examining various wares and even picking up a few products and inspecting them, to which the merchants responded hastily by trying to prod her into buying a few things.
"Oi, oi, Derek, look, 'tis an Elf by the stalls!" She could hear the precisely and accurately, having been a harper for quite some time, and developing sensitive ears. She almost whipped her leaf-shaped ears around, but repented snapping back at the man.
"Ooooh... wha's she doin' 'ere?" A woman asked. From the corner of her eye she could see women staring at her in envy, as she moved about trying to be oblivious to the talk about her.
SPLAT!
There was plenty of laughing to be heard as a Tomato struck the side of her back. Angrily she whipped her head around to see that the culprit was a small boy, no older than twelve, with jet black hair and cold grey eyes. He brandished a wooden toy sword.
"We don' wan' no Elves in 'ere!" He squawked, gripping the wooden blade tightly. Laughing, Daerundros payed coin for an orange, and offered it to the boy. The boy crossed his arms and stared at the orange suspiciously, before he gave in to the tempting, juicy smell of the fruit and finally cupped his hands, waiting for Daerundros to slice the fruit and offer pieces to him.
Daerundros drew the elvish knife and chopped the fruit neatly into four pieces, two of which she gave the boy, and two which she held for herself. The boy oooo'hed and aaaaaa'hed as he caught sight of her elvish blade, hanging by her side.
"Teach me teach me!!" The boy started yeling. Meanwhile, the crowd had slowly disspated itself, disappointed that Daerundros did not react the way they expected her to, but nonetheless, the boy's mother and adolscent sister were still there, watching anxiously.
"No child, I cannot teach one so young." Daerundros said sadly, "Perhaps when you are older."
"No! NOW! NOW! NOW!" The boy started yelling and throwing a tantrum at Daerundros' refusal, and sighing, she took out her small knife, threw it into the air, catching it by the hilt. The boy looked at her, impressed.
The boy struck first with a wild strike. Daerundros simply side-stepped the attempt, chuckling slightly, and gently took the boy's arms and held them behind his back. He struggled widly, trying and trying to break free, but Daerundros' firm grip saw his attempts fail. He sighed and dropped his wooden sword.
"When I wan'a gro' up, I wan'a be jus' like ye!" He said, whistling happily as his mother and sister shot Daerundros a look of defiance and gratitude... but why gratitude?
However, just before she could move on, she felt herself being grabbed and dragged into a deserted alley. A sharp whack to the head with an unknown something caused her vision to blur and her thoughts to disort. However, she grinned hidden to herself. She would choose to play the weak one, before unleashing her full fury. And there was no way she would wrestle herself out of the men's grip without suffering some sort of injury... the thought of a poisoned dagger made her recoil slightly.
"Yer a pretty face." A sickly sensual voice sounded into her ear. Daerundros felt her sword taken away from her, but luckily, not her dagger. She also felt how they rounded the corner: It was a musty alley, to be sure, from smell, but she could only see the outline of a man. Being made to stand up, she was shocken slightly, and forced to look at the men's supposed ringleader, though she could still not see it properly.
"She's a real beauty! A real Elf beauty!" One man exclaimed. Daerundros felt her head being ruffled. She almost swatted it away in anger. The men must've noticed how her strength was almost equal to theirs, because they looked at her in surprise, but they shrugged.
"So, whad'dya think, Rust?" Another man said flatly.
"Elf? I don' really fancy Elves..." The men in front of her approached her, before gasping and cooling himself off rapidly,"Ye... very pretty. She'll make a good wife."
He had good looks, but his hair was brown, matted with dirt, and a roguish smile. Daerundros nearly repented at his bad breath, and his "womanizer" aura. However, hearing the words "wife" and "pretty" made her angry.
"Excuse me?!" Daerundros yelled. Rust approached her and ran his finger through her cheek in a sick way. Twisted...
"Ye'll do fine..." He said, looking at her Sea Blue eyes. He touched her trespassingly.
Daerundros shivered, cold sweat ran down her back, and she almost gagged in revolt. She was now leaning against the wall, Rust's ragged and bad breath on her face. The most horrible memory that she would remember in her life, and then... Rust kissed her.
Daerundros lost control. She was so furious, she could swear she would burst. Wrestling herself out of the two men's grip with ease, she drew her dagger and slashed a cut into Rust's face. Turning around and evading a sword thrust, Daerundros grabbed the man's arm and hit him in the face with her fist. He fell unconscious, and Daerundros ran past him to hit the next man's groin, who then groaned in pain, and dropped her sword. Daerundros grabbed her sword, and changing her wield, sprinted to Rust, and carefully evaded his dagger, disarmed him by whacking her own dagger on his, hard, and carefully placed her sword on his throat.
"Do you wish for me to end your life?" Daerundros said coldly. Rust began whimpering.
"No, no no! Please... don' take me life!" He squealed. Blood was running down his face, inflicted from
Daerundros' slash.
"Then.. stay away from me." Daerundros glared so hard and so stern at Rust that he flinched and crawled away from the scene.
Furious, wishing she could bang the wall, Daerundros ran from the scene, horrified and disgusted. She passed the west gate, on her way to Celondim again.
Since that day, Daerundros changed. She looked down upon the men of Bree in disgust and contempt, and she never set foot in that place again. That experience toughened her up slightly, and it made it harder for her to respond to other Elves' romantic advances. Simply put: Daerundros found romantic love harder to bear, until she fell in love and had her heart broken (by Taramthir). After rejection, it was the end of Daerundros' love life: She had had enough of romance, and would not seek a partner ever again (unless a very charming Elf manages to do so).
((Why do you ask that Daerundros didn't die when those men flirted with her? Well, you know, it wasn't rape, so technically, Daerundros couldn't have died))
