Borrowed Time
O2
Nєνєr
"Zeralena, RUN!"
...
It's black, everywhere is black. She can not see, she can barely compose herself and process thoughts.
Pain.
Her wrists are bound, the shackles dig into the reddened flesh, blood stains the once smooth skin. It runs from her wrists to her fingertips. She breathes sharply through her nose. Her captor shoves her in the back and she is forced to continue treading across the muddy ground. Her shoe is loosened and she stumbles, somehow managing to catch herself but losing the footwear in the process. Sharp stones press into the soles of her feet and she winces trying to regain the sandal. She is shoved again just as she manages to slip it on, the soft leather pads the cuts but soon they will rub and the blood that will be drawn will make her footing all the more awkward. She is driven on again, her dress swaying in the faint breeze, the scarlet fabric is so ironic. She smiles bitterly at the thought, pieces of her golden hair falling from the once neat bun and curve into her face. The man behind her scoffs, pressing the tip of his sword into her back.
"Look at the royal one now. Pitiful." He spits on the ground and she fights the urge to recoil in disgust as he reaches for her. His grime covered fingers close round her neck, cutting off her air supply. "How the mighty have fallen." She flinches as he lets go and she drops to the ground. He bends down until they are eye level and she very clearly can read the malicious, cruel depths of his soul.
"You are weak." Then lunges for her.
{ } { } { } { }
Zeralena awoke with a start, her eyes snapped open, searching frantically from side to side. Realising her surroundings she slowly sat up, noting her fellow members were where she left them. Hobbits on either side whilst the others were scattered about variously. She blinked, squinting against the darkness until her pupils adjusted to the dim light of the moon and stars. Her eyes fell on the figure sitting away from the group, his hair falling down his back; a silken silver curtain. She can not go back to sleep, at least not yet. She dwelled for a few moments, chewing her lower lip out of uncertain habit. Berating herself for her own cowardice she decided to join the elf. Rising from her sleeping spot, grasping her cloak on the way and wrapping it round her body to chase away the night's chill.
"You should be resting, m'lady." A faint smile pulled at her lips as she slid down onto the ground a few feet away from him. For a while they simply sat in companionable silence, staring out into the forest. "What keeps you from sleep?" He asked softly, breaking through her train of thought. The question caught her off guard, she considered not giving a proper answer, but the earnest in his eyes compelled her to. After a stretched pause she found her voice.
"I am afraid that my nightmares may not be just a creation of my mind. I am afraid they may be visions. What is, what may be, what will be... what has been." His gaze held hers.
"You have the power of foresight." Gandalf and Lord Elrond had kept the mystery of Zeralena to himself, he knew very little; only what the wizard had deemed necessary. Her name, her country and the family she had been born into. They had made it clear he felt her company was essential so the elf had not felt it was his place to question. He had sensed she would hold some sort of power.
"At times."
"You have been blessed with great gifts." He watched her lips press into a thin line and break eye contact. "Have I offended you? I pray you know that was not my intention." She rushed to correct him, shaking her head with an apologetic smile.
"No, I am not offended, I do not find you to be of poor character. Perhaps you are right." She forced another smile but her stiff posture and her clenched jaw didn't escape him. "Please excuse me. I think I shall try to obtain some more sleep." She rose without waiting for his answer and turned away tensely. He jumped to his feet, murmuring good night, out of engrained courtesy. He waited a few moments before settling back down again. She had given him much to think about, his watch at least now would pass quicker and sooner than he anticipated Aragorn was ready to relieve him. He hesitated and the dark haired man threw him a questioning glance. He opened his mouth to speak but seemed to change his mind and instead nodded once, striding towards the vacated sleeping spot. The confused ranger's eyebrows rose, wondering what could have made the elf stop and re-consider himself. How bizarre.
{ } { } { } { }
"Zeralena, RUN!"
...
Pace, pace, pace. Turn. It's all she can do to stop her legs from locking, after all its the only exercise she can get. The walls casing her in are cemented with blood, the scent stings her nostrils and she shivers despite the sweat breaking out on her forehead. A fever. Her fingers stretch and her wrists send painful protests up her arms. But they are no longer bound and she takes the oppertunity to flex them despite the shocks.
"Girl." Her head snaps up, she hadn't even heard the door open. It shows her weakened state; dehydrated, hungry and fighting exhaustion. A man, well dressed and groomed steps forward.
She had hoped he would be civilised and a fraction of her heart had begged that he would be her rescuer. But he was not. That smile was so obviously false and she read his intentions before he had even ordered her release. She would be sent to his quaters.
...
"Zeralena. I love you."
Flash
"You're so strange Zera."
Thunder
'Be careful young one.'
Silence
...
"Zeralena, RUN!"
{ } { } { } { }
"Lady Zeralena." A gentle hand stirred her from her uneasy sleep, the owner's breathe caught in his throat when her eyes opened, her hair smooth under his fingers. Merry remembered just in time to close his mouth. She sat up and flashed a smile, drawing back the long strands and tying them away from her face. "You should eat." He mumbled, offering her the bowl in his hand. With another smile she took it and squeezed his shoulder gently in appreciation. He nodded and rose to join Pippin below, practising sword combat skills with Boromir. Her gaze wandered from the hobbits to Gandalf, she caught his eye and he moved to sit beside her.
"And what, fair lady, is it that troubles you?" He asked quietly, patting her gently on the back.
"My dreams, good sir." She responded with a faint smile before proceeding to explain the previous nights troubles. He listened, nodding occasionally, and uttering a comprehending grunt.
"I see. Have you arrived at your decision?" She froze in her stirring of the Merry's broth.
"Yes. If it will help our quest then it is necessary for me to develop my... abilities, so be it." She breathed, closing her eyes as the breeze ran across her cheeks. Hoping for the clarity it use to bring her.
"Very well... Zeralena," He stood, she opened her eyes to look back at the ageing man. "Your mother would be proud." Then turned and walked away, leaving the stunned blonde in his wake.
{ } { } { } { }
Later that day the hobbits again were practising with Boromir, it was breaking noon when Gandalf approached her and they began their own training. She had to learn to control her gifts and sooner rather than later. First, he'd decided that she should attempt projection; showing her visions to the wizard through a mental connection. They stood a little further from the others, her eyes closed as she listened to his careful instruction. She took in a deep breathe and stretched her fingers towards him, reaching to brush his temples. There was a flash of bright light visible to the mind's eye but then nothing. Yet the jolt sent into their bodies was enough to cause them to take a simultaneous step backwards. Their pulses raised and their breathing accelerated.
"Try again." He spoke after a brief pause when they'd calmed. She hesitated but then nodded and proceeded to repeat the process.
A head of blonde hair, the same red dress from her dream and smears of blood. The image of a woman seared into their minds. Her clothes were once finely decorated but had become tattered and torn. Her face was peppered with dirt and flecks of crimson.
'Be careful young one.' The voice, not her's, but one that is neither masculine or feminine murmurs softly to their ears.
"Enough, Zera." She blinked, back to the present. Gandalf stared at her pale complexion and exhausted frame for a moment before a small smile curved his lips upwards. "That is enough for today, you have exceeded what I had originally expected. The images of your mother are quite vivid." She inhaled sharply and swallowed hard. His eyebrows rose questioningly.
"I had expected she was. But a part of me had hoped that my mother had escaped such a harsh fate. I know how I came to be, Gandalf. I had merely prayed tha- ... I have seen much worse. I have felt her pain, known her suffering. But still I can hear her voice telling me she loves me, she stands out amongst the other voices in my visions and dreams, she screams at me to run. I just don't understand it. Any of it. Why would she love me? She should despise me. And what is it that she's telling me to run from?" The wizard examined her for a while, choosing his words carefully. She shifted her gaze to the shrubbery and attempted to swallow the lump in her throat successfully restricting her normal breathing patterns.
She was the double of Jaenne, he decided, recounting the multiple times he'd encountered Zeralena's mother.
"A mother's love is unconditional, this was no less true for your own mother. She cared a great deal about you, Zeralena. Do not doubt that fact. But I regret to say that I can not find the answer to her warnings, we can only assume that her affections for you are just as strong, if not stronger, in the afterlife. She is watching you, ensuring she protects you as much as it is possible for her to do so." She lifted her eyes from a fern leaf to meet his, embracing the moment of comfort in his words. It was short lived.
"Crebain!" Legolas's voice reached their ears, she twisted round to find the black swarm polluting the sky.
"Hide!" Aragorn's voice snapped, an arm already round her waist and pushing her under the cover of the greenery. She felt her spine lock as the creatures passed over head, holding her breathe subconsciously. She waited until she heard someone call her name before crawling out of her hiding place. Legolas offered his hand with a vague smile. She grasped it, murmuring her thanks, untangling the fabric of her dress from a branch.
"Are you well?" He asked softly, she nodded.
"It was merely a bush." He shook his head, offering her water which she took with a grateful glance.
"You misunderstand. Forgive me, but you look pale." She swallowed, moving her fingertips to wipe the corners of her mouth.
"Oh?"
"Your gifts burden you. Last night's rest was poor for you." His perceptiveness caught her off guard, but then his over active elf senses had probably been alerted by her stirrings in the middle of the night. The previous night's encounter had been only the first of four waking episodes. He must have been aware of them all. His concerned gaze made her gut twist in guilt.
"I am fine. Thank you." As his hand closed around the top of the flask she tried to return to him a wave of electricity pulsed through her body. It knocked the air clean out of her as images flashed violently into her head.
The swarm of Crebain swept into a dank cave. Smoke from the multiple roaring furnaces obscured her vision.
'Isengard, headed towards their master.' She saw Saruman's face, the sneer as his pets delievered their message. The cruel smirk was chilling and sent a pulsing fear right into her very core.
'Be careful young one... his forces are strong and his spells are twisted, he shall try to halt your journey in any way he can. Do not take to the mountains.'
"Zeralena?" Her eyes snapped open to meet the worried blue of the elf's, his hands clutched onto her arms. A wave of exhaustion made her body quiver, instinctively he pulled her towards him and leant her weight against his frame. Her knees trembled. Fatigue transformed her limbs to lead and her head pressed against his chest, too stripped of her energy to command her composure.
"Zera!" Pippin's paniced voice wrang in her ears and before she knew it Gandalf was before her, asking her what she'd seen.
"He knows... Gandalf... Saruman knows." Then everything went black.
{ } { } { } { }
'Wake up young one, you must wake up! The danger grows with each passing moment, you must WAKE UP!'
She was cold all over, except for her right side and left hand which was resting against something warm. Icy air clawed at her cheeks, droplets of something even colder dampened her skin. Her throat constricted with the heavy sense of dread. White greeted her pupils and she had to blink several times to readjust her vision. They were in the mountains. She glanced up in a panic at her carrier to find a surprised Legolas looking back at her.
"Put me down!" She called over the shriek of the wind. Confusion spread across his features.
"It is too severe I will-!"
"I have to speak to Gandalf!" He was taken back and paused in his walking, she glanced downwards to find him walking on top of the ten inches of snow.
"What did you see?" His body growing rigid and his gaze locking on the air cut off her replying. She wanted to vomit.
"It's Saruman!" She was too late. A torrent of snow buried the fellowship. He grasped onto her tighter, dipping her body downwards so his back took the brunt of the force. Her hands gripped her shoulders and squeezed her eyes shut and held her breathe to prevent her choking on the frozen precipitation. One of his hands disappeared from her back and she head him chipping away at the snow. She looked up again and began to help, her own fingers clawing at the numbing snow.
"Hannon le, Legolas!" She panted their shoulders brushing together as they sucked in air. Worse was to come, but as he drew her up into his arms so he could resume carrying her neither anticipated the horrors that would soon be upon them. What they would face in the decided route through the mines.
The journey to Moria was tedious, full of narrow paths leading to the gateway. On the fourth night they settled in a eerie part of a wood, the next day would take them through the last part of their trek and into mines. It was the elf's first watch and whilst the others slept Gandalf rose, moving to be seated beside him. The wizard's eyes strayed to the sleeping fair haired woman.
"I must ask something of you, Legolas Thranduilion. The Lady Zeralena is a rare treasure. I ask that you would watch over her should my abscence fall upon us. Her death would not only be a terrible loss but would lead to dire complications. You must be her protector, Legolas." He paused, a wry smile curving his lips. "Though... it would seem you have already placed a keen eye on her." A humorous twinkle touched his eyes as he watched the other male shift uncomfortably under his scrutiny.
"She is vulnerable." The elf replied although it lacked true vindication. "But I understand your wish for her to be with us. I shall do as you ask."
"Thank you. Goodnight." He moved away and glanced over his shoulder. Barely able to conceal his chuckle. "Yes, a very rare treasure indeed." He murmured. The stiffening of the Elf's back indicated he had heard. A smile fixed onto the wizard's features. He would sleep well tonight.
Thoughts?
