I'm going to take liberties with the abilities of some of the Elves in this story. As Galadriel had the power of telepathy and many of the Elves were noted for having near intoxicating looks and hypnotizing powers in the books, and in the movies always had the annoying soft lighting around them, I put this together and created the ability for healers, or the well trained, to be able to manipulate the mind and/or read it. Hopefully it paid off and will continue to do so. Let me know what you think. Cheers!
Gifted with a grace she only felt during combat, the four figures-again she refused to call them elves-led her through the forest on a path that she could only barely distinguish as useable. Be it from her wound or from a quality in the air, there had been numerous times where, had it not been for Lasdir's support, Jaq would have surely fallen down the sudden crevices or tumbled over the twisted roots of the malicious looking trees. Tauriel said nothing of Jaq's impediment, but led the group quietly and quickly-perhaps it was she who was the leader of this make-shift fireteam of strangers; she certainly carried herself as a leader might. Orodion had said nothing as well but had instead crisscrossed the path numerous times, taking in every detail of their passing surroundings-most likely he was the equivalent to a rifleman. The bah-humbug Thirischon had kept up his distrustful glares all the while they'd traveled-she couldn't quite pinpoint what position he might've held had he been in her unit, aside from team naysayer of the pointy-eared equivalent of Captain Walsh. It had been Lasdir who'd managed to keep her moving still. He gave a few encouraging words here and there but didn't offer up conversation aside from that.
Jaq had had to stop more than a dozen times to catch her breath and clear her head. Her whole left side was throbbing now, and she was drenched in sweat and grime, her left pant leg covered in blood as it continued to seep around the arrow head; but at least she had not yet fainted. Lasdir had given her a few more swigs from his flask, tied off her thigh to slow down the blood flow, and after each gulp of the cool liquid Jaq felt a new energy course through her veins-she knew for a fact that whatever was in that flask, it was the only thing that was keeping her going; well that and Lasdir's strength.
They traveled for some time before the forest began to thin and now and again Jaq caught sight of what looked like evidence of "human" life springing up between the trees: a garden here, a shed there, as well as a cottage, or two or three. She'd spotted smoke coming from small chimneys but hadn't yet glimpsed any dwellers. The further they walked the more level the path became until it finally it resembled a true road and the going became much easier. The dwellings also began to cluster more and a few times Jaq almost thought she heard faint conversations but again never caught sight of the speakers.
They rounded a bend and with a startling suddenness, Jaq found that they stood opposite a stone entrance to what looked to be a great cavern fortress. A flat, stone bridge with no railing-another testament to the fact that these people must rarely trip-crossed over a swift flowing river, the rapids surging a stark white against the black stones. Massive columns supported what looked to be an outcropping of a limestone mountain. Twisting, turning, and gripping roots from ancient trees spilled over the outcropping and wrapped around the entrance like the embrace of an old friend. The brightness of the rock was muted by grey and green lichen that splattered across its base. Five faded blue doors barred their way once they were safely over the bridge; the doors jutted high up until they met with the living rock from which the columns were ornately carved from.
Tauriel spoke quickly with the guards when they stood just outside the middle, and highest, door. After a moment, during which Jaq felt another wave of fatigue course through her, the guards stepped aside and the doors slowly swung open, no doubt being opened by a lever or pulley system. Tauriel quickly entered, the shadows from the cavern entrance engulfing her like a ravenous beast. Lasdir readjusted her weight from where she basically hung from his shoulder before he started forward as well. Jaq struggled as much as she could to keep on her own feet but it was becoming increasingly difficult.
Once inside Jaq was almost glad the wound made the going slow for her. Breath was stolen from her body at the sight of the great hall; it was almost too much to take in at once and she took to blinking rapidly. Jaq noticed that a branch of the river flowed beneath the arched bridges even within the cavern itself, snaking its way through the voluminous hall, before it disappeared beneath the rocks again. Natural light from latticework carving in the stone ceiling filtered its way down to light the dozens of zigzagging pathways, dipping down or leading upwards, always off into shadows and mystery. Lamps of what looked to be molten gold hung from the ceilings or were perched against the columns, providing further ambient lighting, and leading Jaq to feel that the balance between light and dark was carefully monitored here: whatever could lead the visitor into a state of awe would be used.
All around the limestone glistened and gleamed, the majority of the columns polished into a sheen, while the supporting boulders and rocks closer to the river were left to be overcome with moss and lichen, providing a soft green hue to the otherwise grey and white surroundings. On occasion, thrusting their way down through the rock, gigantic roots wound themselves around pillars or across the rivers and bridges, providing further access to other areas of the cavern, and giving a change of color and texture. Despite what felt to be an excessive amount of stone work, the hall could not be considered cold. In fact, as Lasdir practically dragged her down more steps and across another bridge, Jaq felt her internal fears begin to lessen. Perhaps it was the cold moisture that often accompanied a cave nestling itself in her lungs, or the gurgling of the river below echoing in her ears, or the near perfect balance between man and nature that seemed to exist here.
Tauriel paused in her movements just long enough to bow her head to a tall man, of regal bearing, his hair a white-gold. He leaned closer to her before he passed by and they spoke quickly, in hushed tones, before he nodded and moved past. As he moved by Jaq his expression changed to open disdain, though curiosity also warred with the disdain. He didn't stop long though and soon he moved by and Jaq was again left to Lasdir's dragging. Whatever the cause, Jaq got the feeling that the people of these parts did not take kindly to people who looked like her: regular humans. Bad blood of some sort had passed between them and knowing her luck she'd get the brunt of something she'd never even known about.
Of course, as was often the case, the feeling of peace was fleeting. With the appearance of the regal snob-blonde, and as Lasdir followed Tauriel up what seemed to be the last dozen steps, Jaq began to feel an ominous air close in around her. She'd always had a good "sixth sense" of feelings/airs-the unexpected fight in the woods earlier was a rarity for her-and so Jaq knew that whoever awaited her at the top of the steps would spell out her life or death. Her lungs were burning now, from exertion and the thinness of the air, and it was with pained gasps that she followed after Lasdir, her weight upon his shoulders growing with each passing moment.
They were still five or six steps from the top landing when she first caught sight of the man, if he could be called a man, sitting like a demi-god upon his intricately carved wooden throne-an extension from a gigantic root that had centuries before made its way through the stone ceiling and twisted its into its current position. Silver, white, gleaming, glistening, blinding: all these words surged to the forefront of her mind at once as her eyes began to take in the details of his form. He would be taller than her, she could tell from the lankiness of his legs, one casually crossed over the other-pale leggings tight enough to reveal sinewy muscle beneath, and his arms draped over the edges of his arm rests-the pale, embroidered tunic, almost resembling an Indian sherwani, cascaded around his arms and torso like a flood of fabric. Upon his head was a tall crown, brown and covered with leaves and flowers that befitted the season. His hair hung like silver-gold water around his shoulders, pulled back from his face with a series of delicate braids that on him looked not the least bit feminine-in many ways he resembled the earlier snob-blonde and Jaq couldn't help but wonder if they were related.
The longer she was in his presence, or because of her wound and blood loss, the stronger the chill that ran up and down her spine. As they approached across the landing before his throne, she watched as he languidly spoke in soft tones with a comely female who stood nearest his throne; from the way her cheeks blossomed into a red hue and her hands clasped tightly together before her waist, Jaq got the feeling that he was flirting with her, or something akin to it-perhaps requesting her nude form in his bed later...and that thought only made Jaq shiver again, though for an entirely different reason than before.
Tauriel stopped just shy of the last step that led down from the throne itself. She bowed her head and Jaq watched as Orodion and Thirischon quickly followed suit, standing just behind Tauriel on either side of her body. Lasdir came up last and it was as he drew her directly behind Tauriel that the demi-god/king finally waved his hand and the female slipped away, her blushes even stronger than before. His face held no hint of an expression, other than bored alertness, as he studied their group, his eyes barely straying in her direction.
"What have you to report?" His voice rumbled like a river falling down the mountain, like a stone rolling through a stream, like the bubbling of silver out a cauldron. Another shiver whispered its way through her body and Jaq closed her eyes for a moment to fight the desire to sway-her wound must really be getting to her, as she'd never gone weak in the knees over a voice before.
"King Thranduil, we were on the hunt for the nest of the Giant Spiders when we heard strange sounds; we were near the Narrows when this happened. The sounds were much like explosions and sharp cracks, nothing that I've ever before. When we tracked it down we found this man," Tauriel turned and pointed towards Jaq and again Jaq heaved a sigh of defeat-she wasn't THAT ugly-though she kept her mouth shut, "his three companions were already dead, attacked by a band of orcs. I slew the last orc standing while Orodion ensured that the others were similarly dead."
The king's right hand momentarily flexed then relaxed again, the only sign that the news had perturbed him. "Were there any signs of other orcs? Have there been further reports of them encroaching so close upon our lands?"
Jaq's attention span wavered as Tauriel, as well as Thirischon, replied in what Jaq considered entirely too much detail. She closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing, on keeping her leg muscles stiff enough to remain standing. If they could just cut through all this crap she knew nothing about and get to the part where she would either live or die that'd be just grand.
"And so what of this man?" The king's lips tugged in an almost smile, something obviously amusing to him, once his eyes fell fully upon Jaq. Her fatigue gave her the excuse to not squirm under the intensity of it. If it was at all possible to be picked apart molecule by molecule by a mere gaze, then this man had the ability to do it. "You said his companions were already slain when you came upon them?"
Tauriel nodded, "He speaks an unfamiliar language, my king, and as you can see," she gave Jaq a once over before looking back towards the king, "he is clad in attire that I've never seen before in all my years."
Jaq studied the lack of wrinkles around Tauriel's eyes and guesstimated that the woman was around 25 or 28 at the most-she most likely hadn't been around the block, so to speak. In fact, they all looked ridiculously young, vigorous, and entirely too good looking for their own good. Did these guys find the fountain of youth, and a weird plastic surgeon to alter their ears at the same time? Jaq's wavering thoughts were broken when Lasdir moved forward at the prompting of the king, dragging her along with him. The lack of warning caused her to put too much weight on the wounded leg and the surprising rush of pain had her head spinning. She grasped at air before she tumbled to her knees, the shock of the impact wrenching a guttural groan from her lips. Lasdir bent by her side, and from the way that he put his hands back upon her shoulders to haul her back up again, Jaq got the feeling that he was trying to apologize for his part in her stumble.
Resisting his pulls, Jaq reached up and unclipped her helmet. She pulled it from her head and let it clink to the ground beside her, welcoming the movement of air across her scalp and the freedom it gave her neck. She heard a strange noise, almost a gasp, come from Lasdir and looked over to see surprise registering on his face. She gave him the closest thing to a smile her body could conjure up at this point-it wasn't his fault she lacked more feminine qualities aside from her auburn hair and, with the flak vest gone, her average chest size. Modern uniforms were made to be as sexless as possible and apparently they'd done the job in this place. She gave a curt nod to confirm Lasdir's unvoiced question and this time, when his hands returned to her shoulders-he'd drawn them back earlier in surprise-there was a gentler quality to the hold he put on them.
"I see that SHE is injured." The king's voice wrapped itself around her mind and she felt her eyes flutter from exhaustion. "If the arrow was poisoned then we may expect the fever and death shortly." Jaq opened her eyes and looked up, up, up towards where the king still sat, his lips again tugging into an almost smile-the quality of it unwelcoming and cruel. "If it was not, then we will have more time during which to question her audacity to trespass upon our lands."
"What would you have us do with her, my king?" Lasdir spoke up, though he made no move to stand again, his hands still firmly resting on Jaq's shoulders.
The king gave Jaq another calculating stare before he answered, "Remove the arrow, stop the bleeding, and then put her in a cell. We have other pressing matters to attend to and cannot spare the time for such trivial matters. As her companions are dead I doubt anyone will be missing her anytime soon."
Jaq had not the energy to mutter a "fuck you very much," however much she wanted to-he wouldn't have understood anyway. Lasdir helped her to her feet and, after a moment, two more guards stepped forward and took her from Lasdir's arms. They weren't nearly as gentle or caring as they led/dragged her from the throne room. Lasdir kept up behind them but said little as they traveled further and further into the caverns. They turned too many times and crossed too many similar looking bridges for her to memorize the pathway back out again-not that she'd be able to successfully escape wounded thusly, and with so many guards milling about. She still tried to keep track of some of the major markers, just in case-her training hadn't failed her completely.
After some time they arrived in what Jaq assumed to be their version of a hospital wing. There were rows and rows of vials and drying herbs, and off to the side it looked to be a garden of sorts situated in the very heart of the cavern system, sunlight streaming down from the strategically placed holes in the ceiling. The thought of finally finding aid made the last of Jaq's strength leave her and without warning her legs gave out. The guards, thankfully, expected as such and held her upright as they dragged her the last of the way to what looked to be a makeshift cot, carved out of stone.
"Aelion." Lasdir looked up to greet a short-at least compared to the rest of the folks Jaq had seen in this area so far-though handsome man as he moved from around one of the shelves into full view. His robes were a deep turquoise embroidered with a light blue. "The king wishes for you to see to this woman's leg."
Aelion's hair was slightly curly, another notable difference considering everyone else looked to visit the salon daily their hair was so straight. The color of it was also not as bright or as distinct as the others. Dirty blonde, Jaq decided, would be the best descriptor for his hair color, and grey was the color of his eyes. From his movements and the way he immediately set about cutting away the fabric of her trouser's, without words or disdainful looks, Jaq got the feeling that he was like Lasdir: kind.
"Orcs." Aelion stated after he got a good look at the black arrow in her leg. "It was not poisoned, or else there'd be black trails in her skin traveling out from the wound." His fingers whispered over her skin as he spoke. "It is nearly through the leg. I will have to push it through to avoid further damage to her muscles." Aelion stepped away and pointed to the corner. "Fetch me that stool to prop her leg on," one of the guards moved to do his bidding, "Lasdir fetch me some dried Niphredil root and Seregon blossoms. Mix it with honey wine until it creates a poultice that we will put on her wound," Lasdir disappeared amongst the shelves to find the items, "you, stoke the fire and cleanse the knives," the other guard quickly moved off as well.
As each man fell into place with his bidding, Aelion had Jaq re-situated with her left leg braced on the stool, her thigh hovering between it and the cot. She remained silent for a bit longer, at least until Aelion moved and came back with what looked to be a small hammer-most likely to drive the arrow clean through her leg with. Once he stood by her cot and waited for the other guard and Lasdir to return Jaq reached out and touched his wrist, just enough to get his attention. His eyes held open curiosity, and some warmth, when he settled them on her.
"Thank you." She said slowly, hoping that if he didn't understand the words he'd at least understand the sentiment.
Instead of nodding in reply Aelion frowned, "She does not speak Westron?" He looked up to Lasdir once he returned. "Does she understand us?"
"I believe she may," Lasdir gestured towards Jaq's responding nod, "though I am unsure of why she has come to understand us but we may not yet understand her. Do you think it to be a curse?"
Aelion leaned forward and before Jaq could protest he placed his hand upon the crown of her head, his fingers digging into her scalp in a firm but not exactly uncomfortable way. Without meaning to, her eyes slid closed and she relaxed into his touch. It felt as if her mind were splayed open, like a book fallen to the floor and a breeze shifting through its pages. A movie on fast-forward was her life as it whirled by in her mind-called up not by Jaq but by the same unexpected "desire" that had told her to close her eyes. It was as she remembered the fight with the, orcs were they?, that the thought that Aelion was controlling her mind came to her. As soon as the thought came, Aelion's grip lessened and Jaq's eyes opened.
She stared up at the man who stared back at her in shock and the closest thing she'd seen to fear since she'd first come here-wherever here was. It seemed that he was just as frightened by her sudden arrival as she. Aelion shook his head as if to clear it then reapplied pressure to his grip on her head. Jaq, for whatever reason-perhaps enchantment-didn't feel fear towards what he was doing to her. There was a quality about his touch, his voice, that had put her at ease and reassured her. Now that he was playing hopscotch in her brain, Jaq figured that had either been a good gamble or a costly one.
Somewhere, in a deep corner of her mind, she felt something stir. Her eyes fluttered and closed again as the stirring grew. It was almost painful, like a pressure building, a swirling darkness that was creating light. It lasted but a moment, but when Aelion withdrew his hand from her head, the feeling remained and it took a few moments more before Jaq was able to open her eyes. Aelion looked tired now, a sheen of sweat dotting his brow. Lasdir drew closer, his concern for both Jaq and Aelion marring his otherwise perfect features.
"Aelion, are you well?" Lasdir took Aelion's arm and cradled it against his chest in an almost affectionate way-it made Jaq wonder if homosexuality was taboo or accepted here or if their culture just encouraged and accepted same-sex affection.
Aelion nodded to Lasdir then turned his attention back to Jaq, "You have come very far have you not?" He was giving Jaq a calculated look, like that of a teacher waiting for his pupil to give the right answer.
Jaq felt that space in her brain tickle as she opened her mouth to reply, "Yes." The words sounded foreign and yet familiar to her and it seemed that they surprised Lasdir just as they reassured Aelion. Whatever he'd done with her brain had apparently rendered her capable of simple communication.
"What is your name?" Aelion spoke again, his fatigue falling away in light of clinical curiosity.
"Jaquelin Adriana Da Cunha," her brain didn't tickle as she said her name in the familiar English. When it looked as if their tongues wouldn't wrap around it she smiled and said simply, "Jaq."
"Jaq," Aelion moved closer, "with your permission I will remove the arrow."
Jaq nodded and began to brace herself, "Thank you." Her brain tickled again though not as much as the first time.
Aelion signaled the guards who took up position by Jaq's arms while Lasdir held both her legs down. Aelion spared Jaq one more look of almost apologetic sympathy before he brought the hammer down upon the arrow shaft. White, hot pain seared up her body from her leg and with a sharp cry Jaq fell into darkness.