Lara Dorren is also mention in Baptism of Fire through "The Tale of Lara Dorren" told by both humans and elves.
- “The queen replied: ‘Ask not me for mercy, but those whom you wronged with your magic. You had the courage to commit those deeds, now have courage when your pursuers and justice are close at hand. It is not in my power to pardon your sins.’ Then the witch hissed like a cat and her sinister eyes flashed. ‘My end is nigh,’ she shrieked, ‘but yours is too, O Queen. You shall remember Lara Dorren and her curse in the hour of your dreadful death. And know this: my curse will hound your descendants unto the tenth generation.’ Seeing, however, that a doughty heart was beating in the queen’s breast, the evil elven witch ceased to malign her, or try to frighten her with the curse, but began instead to whine for help and mercy like a bitch dog… The Tale of Lara Dorren, as told by the humans”
- “… but her begging softened not the stony hearts of the Dh’oine, the merciless, cruel humans. So when Lara, now not begging for mercy for herself, but for her unborn child, caught hold of the carriage door, on the order of the queen the thuggish executioner struck with a sword and hacked off her fingers. And when a severe frost descended in the night, Lara breathed her last on the forested hilltop, giving birth to a tiny daughter, whom she protected with the remains of the warmth still flickering in her. And though she was surrounded by the blizzard, the night and the winter, spring suddenly bloomed on the hilltop and feainnewedd flowers blossomed. Even today do those flowers bloom in only two places: in Dol Blathanna and on the hilltop where Lara Dorren aep Shiadhal perished. The Tale of Lara Dorren, as told by the elves”
"Lara Dorren aep Shiadhal was an elven sorceress, called Aen Saevherne, a Knowing One. She carried Hen Ichaer, Elder Blood, which puzzles even us elves. As fate would have it, Lara fell in love with a human sorcerer, Cregenan of Lod. Other humans could not bear it and began persecuting them. No pleas would soften the stone hearts of the cruel and merciless dh'oine. When Lara, begging for her unborn child, grabbed the door of the royal carriage, a man-at-arms lashed out with his cutlass, chopping her fingers off. When the nighttime frosts came, Lara languished on a forest hill. She gave birth to a daughter whom she protected with what warmth remained in her waning body. Though through the night a blizzard had raged, spring suddenly appeared on that hill and feainnewedd bloomed. To this day those flowers grow only in Dol Blathanna and on the land where Lara breathed her last. You must understand the importance of her artifacts. She was exceptional to us, someone whose loss defies words, no matter the language..."