THE RUBY RING

Disclaimer: Even the laptop does not belong to me… scratch that, even the Wi-Fi does not belong to me.

Flames not appreciated. Constructive criticism is welcome.

Enjoy!

~S~

In the lands of Arnor,

Towards the End of Second Age,

The figure walking over the streets was hooded and cloaked, obscuring most of his features. He wore no sword and carried no other weapon and that was good news for her.

She did not miss the coin purse hanging from his belt, nor did she miss the sweet sound of coins jiggling within. The man was obviously too deep in thought to acknowledge his surroundings, else he would have known this part of the city was well known for thievery and other riff raff lurking in the shadows.

She walked carefully beside him; the shadows lengthening as evening fell. Soon it will be even more easy for her to catch her prize. The man had his hands clasped behind his back. His hooded head was bowed; his shoulders drooped as if he carried a burden he could not bear. She hesitated. Where was he going, she wondered? Her fingers twitched in her hesitation. Perhaps the coin purse was so heavy with coin because he had some payment to give? Some payment, perhaps, to make it easier for him? But she hardened her heart. A thief has got to eat.

The streets were deserted, but she could not go back to her crew without anything valuable to give. She had returned empty-handed for two days now. A third day will mean she will get thrown out of the crew and she will have to fend for herself against the gangs with no one to watch her back. And as she thought, the man impatiently shrugged back his cloak, making his purse visible before clasping his hands behind his back once again.

She padded carefully behind him, hand reaching out carefully. The coin purse was held to the belt with a knotted cord, which was not too difficult to unhook. She crouched slightly, her pace easily matching her prey's, footfall for a footfall as nimble fingers quickly unknotted the cord.

A hand shot out from nowhere, clutching her wrist with a bruising grip. She gasped in pain, knees buckling as the captured wrist protested against the manhandling. The man uttered something, but she could not understand the long stream of words that sounded so elegant as it flowed from him. The man had a pleasing voice, not gruff or rough as the ones she was so used to hearing. She was yanked to the front and she looked down, gritting her teeth and sticking out her chin in stubbornness as she waited for the man to look over her.

But just as she was pulled forward, the man exclaimed in surprise and let go of her wrist, dropping her to the ground, which she hit with a grunt.

"A woman?" The man's voice had a light lilt of an accent to it. She looked up in contempt. The man's face was shadowed in his cloak, the growing darkness about the two of them not helping matters. But she saw slight outlines of a face, and bright grey eyes peering down at her. She was small, thin, and not at all comely with grime and black hair cropped short like a man's. she wore an old white dress with ragged trousers with light shoes.

But some men liked that.

This man, though, was too stunned to think properly. So she swung a leg at him, catching his ankles. But the man only stumbled instead of falling and it was enough of a distraction of her to run. He shouted after her but she did not look back. Her heart raced in her chest, beating wildly as she made a dash for her. She could hear footfalls behind her. He was chasing her! She pushed forward, twisting into what alley she could find, but as of yet she could not lose him!

Then she heard nothing behind her. She slowed down and strained her ears. Nothing. Sighing in relief, she slowed down and stopped, bending over a little to soothe her aching legs. Then a figure dropped to the ground from above, cloak billowing out as he did. The man again! She stepped back but before she could turn, the man grabbed her shoulder and pushed her against the wall but not unkindly. She only hit the wall with a light thump and the hand holding her in place was not like iron. It was gentle but firm.

"You did not think I would let you go when you just tried to steal from me?" The man asked incredulously. He wanted more, a more feminine part of her shrieked in fright and she kicked at him. She caught him at his thigh but he did not budge. It seemed as if he did not even feel it.

"Calm down." The man's order cut through the air like a whip. Whoever he was, he was used to giving orders and having them followed. She stopped struggling, her eyes staring at him, watching his every move. the man raised his free hand, forming into a fist and she braced herself for a beating.

But the fist never came. The man reached up for his brooch, tugging it free until pools of cloth bundled into his free hand and around his arm. And then she realized this was no man.

The face she beheld was handsome, with high cheekbones and a youthful masculine look. His hair was long, and bright golden in colour, held in place with a leather band at the nape of his neck. Few of his hair strayed from the band, framing his face. Two elegant points were visible on the tips of his ears. He had sad grey eyes, as if he had seen great sorrow, and had never been able to fully recover from them. But in them were mixed merry, youthful joy. His face though, was morphed in a quizzical look as he stared down at her.

"What is your name, child?"

Child! She was no child! She was nearly twenty summers! She was short, that was all.

"Speak!" The command almost undid her. But she clenched her jaw and looked at him stubbornly. The 'creature' studied her, before chuckling.

"You have stubbornness in you, little one." She had heard of 'creatures' that lived among Lindon. The 'Firstborn' or 'Elves' they were called, with long hair and tall figures, with light voices and forever youthful faces. But here in the slums they were nothing but myths and legends, told around the fire. Some who went into the richer parts of the city claimed to have seen them, but she always stuck to the slums, where she stole from the vendors and the lot and made her living that way.

The Elf in turn was studying her before he sighed and sat down across her.

"This was not what I had in mind when I decided for a walk." The Elf said, but it sounded as if he spoke to himself. Aida glanced at him and then at the alley. He was distracted. If she tried to return, she might make it.

"Do not try it." The Elf warned her even as her muscles bunched to flee. "I will catch you again and I will not be kind this time." Aida froze. She studied him. With his noble bearing, he was either a soldier of rank or a lord. Whatever the case, it will only be bad luck for her if she took the risk. She decided it was not worth it.

They sat across each other, staring for a long while. The Elf was thinking again, his eyes staring at the stone pebbled ground between them. He seemed to have forgotten all about her.

Her stomach rumbled.

Her cheeks flushed and she looked up, squirming uncomfortably when she met the Elf's raised eyebrows. Then he chuckled softly.

"Are you hungry?"

The mere mention of food brought about another rumble. It was a pathetic life in the streets, and as a woman she had to survive it the hardest. But it meant most days of not eating her fill. The Elf was speaking again.

"Why, you are a scrawny little thing." The Elf got up, dusting his breeches before placing his hands on his waist and looking down at her. "Will you stay here if I went to buy some food?"

She kept her mouth clamped shut. The Elf sighed wearily.

"I will catch you again," the Elf promised. "So do not think of leaving."

"Then why ask if I will stay?" She shot back. The Elf gave her a small smile. He had a bit of mischievous streak in him. Aida knew it when she saw it. But there was something fatherly about his manner too. She supposed the Elf had a young family back home to dote over.

"I was being polite." The Elf waved his hand at her and turned on his heel. When he left, Aida folded her arms with a huff, her legs stretched out in front of her. It was a while before he came back, holding a sack in his hand and a steaming bowl in the other.

"Here we are," the Elf said briskly, sitting on the ground in front of her. He opened the sack and fresh scent of baked bread burst into the air. The Elf pulled out two loaves of bread and set it on the sack.

Much to her surprise, the Elf quickly broke the first loaf of bread and offered a half to her. He placed the bowl between them. Aida's mouth watered at the delicious smell of the broth. When the Elf broke off a piece of bread and dipped it into the broth that was when she realized that they were going to share the broth. Pity; she was so hungry she could it eat it whole.

The whole time they ate, she noticed that he had excellent manners. He did not take another morsel until she took one, and kept his mouth closed and dusted off what crumbs stuck to him. But he sat on the ground with no qualms for his clothes. Aida stared at him. The Elf ate like a foot solider, although with better manners. Certainly this food, while hot and fresh, was nowhere the delicacies he must have tasted in court!

Catching her stare the Elf gave her a rueful smile.

"I have eaten worse and this is nowhere near it." The Elf said. "It is rather good, in fact."

Once they had eaten, the Elf placed the bowl and the small sack on the side, no doubt to return them to their owner.

"Well," the Elf said, stroking his chin. "What am I to do with you?"

Aida said nothing.

"I could give you to the officials. The laws are strict when it comes to thieves."

Aida's cheek twitched. The laws were strict alright. Those caught thieving were whipped twenty lashes, and were given tattoos to mark them as criminals. They will remain branded wherever they go. It makes life more difficult.

"At the same time I do not think you meant to do it out of just habit. You seem to be desperate if you try to thieve from someone walking alone in the streets. That was foolish. But you do not look like a fool." Aida was getting bored by his contemplation.

"What is your name?" The Elf asked suddenly. He had asked once before. Aida swallowed. She did not like telling it to him, but given her position, she hardly thought it was appropriate to refuse.

"Aida," she said. The Elf silently raised a brow. Aida felt her cheeks burn. He had understood. She had no father name.

"My name is Thranduil, son of Oropher." The Elf said, bending his legs and placed his arms around his knees. Silence fell again. Something about this Thranduil made Aida want to know more about him.

"Why were you walking here?" Aida asked reluctantly. "This is thieves' place. You could have been robbed." The Elf's eyes glimmered in mischief.

"Oh, I could have been. And you were nearly successful too. I had let my guard down." The Elf shook his head, suddenly sobering. "I was walking without any particular direction in mind. I have many heavy thoughts to think about."

"Like what?"

Thranduil smiled.

"And what concerns does a thief have for an Elf's matters?" He asked, but there was no mockery in his words. He sounded amused and genuinely surprised.

"You looked like you had a lot on your mind."

"I do." Thranduil said. Then he smirked. "You just tried to rob a crown prince," Thranduil said dryly, making Aida flush. Then suddenly she realized that as a crown prince, he could easily take her to the Lord and complain about her. She would have a punishment worse than the one usually given out for thieves.

The fear must have come on her face because the Elf immediately soothed her, "You should relax. I have not decided what do you with you but I certainly will not take you to your Lord." The Elf paused. "As for what I was thinking about, perhaps I can tell you some. Have you heard of Annatar?"

"I have seen him." Aida said lowly.

"Really? When?"

"He came here, not two weeks past."

"Ah yes. I know of that visit. What do you think of him?"

What did she think of him? She thought him beautiful with a charming smile, but there was something else.

"Beautiful of face, wicked of heart," Aida said. Thranduil nodded.

"I have heard that saying before. You have a sharp mind. It must come with your survival instinct. Well, I was thinking about him, and what kind of wickedness he may have in his heart."

"I needed your purse." Aida said out. Thranduil looked at her, startled. The admission came completely by surprise. Aida did not really bother to listen to the Elf. She only felt the overwhelming guilt that she had tried to pickpocket someone who only returned her actions with kindness. He was a fool, a part of her thought sourly. "This is my third day without bringing something in for my gang. If I do not bring something tonight then I will be thrown out of the gang and I will have to live off the streets."

The Elf assessed her. Did he have a way of knowing she lied or tell the truth? She was being honest.

"You have no family?"

"My ma was a prostitute," she spat. "My da was just some man looking for something for the night."

The Elf nodded once and said nothing.

"Here," the Elf said at last, pulling one of his rings free and offering it to Aida on the flat of his palm. "Take it. It should bring a comely price." She took it slowly and studied it. The ring had a thick band to go around the finger, with a slim, long ruby set into it, and white gems surrounding it in a circle.

"This must cost a fortune!" She said in awe. She had seen this type of jewellery in the market, but the gems of this one was cut finally, with round edges that did not dig into her skin. The metal dipped back and forth around the gems, forming an intricate pattern.

"The cost is nothing to me," the Elf said dismissively. "I think you need it more than I."

Something this freely given made her pause.

"I can't-"

"Take it." The Elf said. Again, the voice brooked no argument. "You are free to go." He added, getting up and dusting his clothes. He gathered the bowl and the sack in his hands. Aida sat there dumbly. The Elf was so tall that she had to lean back and push her head all the way back to look up at him. He looked down at her and said, "Promise me to change you would change. Thievery is dishonourable." With that he turned and swiftly walked away. She only stared after him.

When she came back and the master demanded her lot, she told him she had none. He gave her a whipping and threw her out in the streets. After a while she got up and walked away with shaky legs. There was a healer who lived in the slums to offer help to the poor. He never charged his patients more than they could pay. After that she left thieving behind and never regretted it no matter what hardship she faced.

The ring she kept.

She did not know why she did so at the time, when the Elf had obviously given it to her so that she could keep her place in the crew. It turned out the master did not drive her out just yet, since she was the only woman in the crew. She kept the ring in her pocket, and took it wherever she went as a silent promise.

Her wanderings were not at all pleasant, because the weather was not kind to those living on the streets but she pulled through. She found a young man, a fisherman, who had a kind heart and gentle manner. Soon they married and had two children, a boy and a girl. The ring she gifted to her son when he came of age.

At last her body could not carry her any longer in her old age, and she lay on her bed. It was evening and the sun was just setting. Her husband had died years earlier. At the moment, her son sat by her bed, tight-lipped.

"Maybe," she whispered. "Maybe, just maybe, I might meet him again."

If she ever did, she would gladly help him for helping her.

~S~

Author's Note:

Edited and revised 7/2/2016.