"Fiona, something happened earlier. I was with your mother in the woods and with about twenty others. We were trying to join the others going to the caves, but the Wild Men surrounded us. The men tried to fight back and a few of the warriors came to help, but a lot of them died. I don't know if your mother...I don't know if she...died, I don't think so... but she might be hurt really bad or even if she's not hurt at all, she's not here...I don't know. I just don't want you to worry where she is..."
Elena gasped in horror as Stefan talked, and immediately turned to Fiona. Her face crumpled, and Elena put her arms around her.
It will be well she whispered fiercely, to herself and Fiona. Fiona sat upright and, hiding behind Elena, wiped her face. Elena realised she didn't want Stefan to know she had been crying.
"My Mother would never allow herself to be killed by wild men" Fiona said quite calmly. "Especially not if she still had to be angry at Aragorn for doing what he wasn't supposed to. And by the way Stefan, why did you not go with my brother?"
"Fiona!" Elena said, glaring at her.
"Fiona, may I talk to you for a while?" Stefan asked in a brittle voice, standing. Fiona followed him, and so did the little girl. Stefan whispered something to her, and unwillingly she sat down again. Stefan and Fiona walked away.
Elena sat silently for a moment. Putting her hand up to her face, she realised it was wet, and wiped her cheeks hastily. With a smile she gestured the little girl over closer to her. She didn't move.
"What's your name?" Elena asked, still trying to smile. Her face felt heavy, as though it wasn't used to using that expression.
"Adela" she answered quietly.
"Adela would you like something to eat?" Elena asked, reaching into her pocket and pulling out an apple.
"Yes please"
Elena held it out, but would not lean towards Adela. The little girl was forced to come closer to take the apple, and then sat down. For a while they sat in silence as Adela ate.
"Why were you with Stefan?" Elena asked after a while. Adela paused, as though deciding whether to say anything.
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“Sylphs of the forest,” I whispered. “Spirits of oak, beech and ash. Dryads of Rowan and hazel, hear us. You who have guided and guarded our every footstep, you who have sheltered our growth, we honour you."
the Forbidden Link
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