Just a Friend- Chapter 4
Next chapter! I would really love it if you review- anything you have to say about it, whether it be positive or constructive criticism. I will end up feeding any flames to my pet Balrog :)
Disclaimer: see Chapter 1.
Henric glanced up as a gentle pitter-patter announced the arrival of rain. "Telan, grab some pots. The roof might start leaking again." Telan put down his stew and pulled the pots out to the usual places. The rain got heavier. Soon there were drops falling into the pots, going plink each time.
It was dark outside by the time Telan had scrubbed the pan of soup clean with a hunk of bread. The fire flickered as another gust of wind hit the house, and the rain drummed on the roof. Henric sighed.
"It looks like a wet winter," he murmured.
Alya didn't answer. She was busy with the elf, trying to coax more water down his throat. The wind howled again, and Telan scooped Cat up in his arms. "Are you tired, kitten?" he asked gently. "Maybe you should go to sleep."
Cat nodded sleepily, and Telan turned to go into the other room when there came a hammering on the door.
"Open up!"
Henric got to his feet. "Who is it?" he called, nearing the door.
"Old man, open the door or we break it down." Henric's face became pale as he heard the voices.
"Open up, old man, open up!"
"Why?" shouted back Henric. He looked back at Telan, who had put Cat down on the floor and was now standing in front of her. "My sword," he whispered.
Telan nodded and retrieved the sword from the fireside as the men outside thumped on the door again. It shook in his hinges, and then the old rusted bolt gave way and it flung open.
Three men were silhouetted in the doorway, the rain pouring from their hoods. The one in front stepped forwards into the house. "So it is true," he said with a grin. "You do have an elf."
"See, I told you!" said one of the other men, starting forwards. The first man put out a hand and he stopped abruptly.
"Quiet," he growled to the two other men. He tossed back his hood and grinned. His face was sallow, his hair tangled around his face. A scar ran down his cheek and across his lip. "Who is this elf then, old man?"
"Get out of my house" said Henric quietly. He took the sword from Telan, who was standing frozen by the fire. "Get out."
The man laughed. "Look at that, boys, he has a sword." He flipped his cloak aside. "What a pity. So do we."
In an instant three more swords were drawn, and the man pointed his sword straight at Henric. Alya gasped and made to move forwards, but the sword swung towards her and she stopped.
"Stay still women," growled the man. "I wouldn't want to see you…spoiled."
Alya's face went pale, but she drew herself up and grabbed hold of Cat and Telan, pulling them back behind her. Cat went willingly, but Telan struggled. "No!" he said.
The man laughed. "The boy thinks he is brave," he drawled. "Give us the elf, old man, or we shall see just how brave he is."
Telan stumbled back as Henric moved in front of him. "I know what you would do with the elf" he said quietly. "I know your kind. He has done nothing to you. Please, just leave us in peace."
"We will," said the man, "but only if we get the elf."
"Why?" asked Henric, his voice tense. "What has he ever done to you?"
The scarred man shook his head. "You don't realise, do you?" he said. "Elves are wicked, they are sorcerers. Everyone has heard stories of the Golden Wood. If you go in there, you never come out." His face hardened. "Besides, I used to live on the edges of Mirkwood. One day we were attacked." His face twisted in brief rage, before he brought himself under control.
"Where were those elves when my parents were killed?" he asked. His voice wasn't loud, but there was an edge to it like stone. "Where were those godforsaken elves when my home burnt? They didn't help. They are wicked. They do not deserve to live. Give the elf to us, and we will do what he deserves to him."
"I am sorry for you," said Henric, and he was slightly, an edge of bitter pity in his voice. "But I will not let you take him. He is injured, poisoned. He needs help."
"Help?" asked the man, chuckling. "I do not think so, old man." He stepped forwards and the two men either side of him came to his sides. "If you do not give him up, we will take him by force."
Telan gulped and took a trembling step back. His leg collided with the edge of the bed where the elf lay and he winced. Cat was shaking where she stood, and Alya had moved to position herself in front of Cat and the elf.
The man stepped forwards, his sword swinging lazily. The flames from the fire glinted off its edge. "I mean it, old man."
Henric tightened his grip on his own sword. "You can't take him."
"Suit yourself." The man raised his sword and the muscles in his arm tensed, readying to swing it. Henric clutched his sword even harder, his knuckles white. Telan held his breath. The sword swung.
And with the sudden sound of steel grating on steel, it was deflected and spun out of the man's hand. The man found himself being pulled backwards by his hair as a long knife came to his throat. His companions started at the hooded man who had appeared behind them.
"Get out right now," said the hooded man. "Get out and run, and never come back here again."
One of the companions grinned. "Yeah?" he asked. "And who's gonna make me?"
The hooded man suddenly spun around, pulling the first man with him and kicking his legs out from underneath him so he dropped to the floor. One hand went to the sword at his hip and in an instant he had is levelled at the two other men.
"Get out" he growled. His sword came to rest on one of the man's throats, and he pushed ever so slightly. A bead of red blood trickled down the man's neck.
"Get out," he repeated. "Or I will kill you." His eyes flashed dangerously.
The other man made a sudden move to his belt, and in an instant the stranger, without removing the sword from the first man's throat, flicked out his other hand, the one with the knife.
A scream of pain shattered the air as the man clutched his arm. Blood flowed from beneath his hand. "You…You!"
The stranger pressed the sword into the first man's neck. "Go," he said. His voice was soft, but was like steel. "I don't want to kill you, but I will if you don't leave now."
The first man gulped and nodded, and the stranger's sword followed him as he went to his companion and hoisted him up, the blood spattering over him as well. He looked up at the stranger. "We'll go."
"Then run." The hooded man took away his sword and watched as the two men threw open the door of the house and ran into the rain. He watched them go.
Telan saw the man, the first man on the floor, stir and clamber to his knees. A knife was in his hand. "Watch out!" he cried.
The hooded man spun around and seized the man, hauling him up to his feet and slamming him against the wall. A knife appeared in the first man's hand, but the hooded man grabbed his hand and slammed it again and again against the wall, until the bleeding fingers opened and the knife fell to the floor.
The hooded man drew out a second knife, identical to the first one, from his belt and pressed it to the man's throat. A thin line of blood appeared.
"You will never come back here," said the hooded man. "You will never return to this house. You will never try and take anyone, let alone an elf." For a brief moment the hand around the knife clenched it so hard the knuckles turned white.
The man laughed slightly. "And who are you to threaten me so?"
"A man with a sword," answered the hooded man. "A man who is holding a knife to your throat. Be careful."
"Really? As if you know how to use it," said the man. His scar rippled as he talked.
The hooded man seemed to pause, and come away from the other man slightly. The knife moved away from the man's throat, who laughed. "See? I said-"
The knife flashed. The man yelled out in pain. Alya gasped and covered Cat's eyes as the scarred man clutched at his hand . Blood dripped from beneath his fingertips. "My…my fingers." His voice was incredulous as he clutched the nearly severed digits.
"Next time, I will do worse," said the hooded man. He paused, but suddenly the elf on the bed twisted and moaned softly. The hooded man's eyes flew to the elf, and Telan thought he saw a glint of fear in his eyes. "Get out," he said hurriedly to the scarred man, pressing the knife into his throat. "Get out and never come back."
The man grasped his hand tightly to him as the hooded man opened the door and shoved him outside. He watched him run off into the darkness, before sighing and shutting the door, sheathing his weapons. He turned back to Henric.
Henric raised his sword. "You are the man who came to our door this morning, asking about an elf. Who are you?"
"Da, he saved us!" cried Telan, who ran forwards and tugged at his father's arm. "He helped us."
"Your father is right to be wary," said the hooded man, his voice soft. "I…I can't believe I was so close to you. It was out of desperation that I knocked on your door. I was in the inn in town when I heard those men discussing an elf, and a family that had him. I followed them here. I had to."
Henric lowered his sword slightly. "Why?"
The man threw back his hood. His piercing grey eyes glinted in the light from the fire. Behind Alya the elf twisted and a faint whimper escaped his lips. The man moved forwards, his face turning worried, but Henric stopped him.
"How do I know you aren't another of those men?" he asked. "How do I know you won't kill the elf?"
"Please, you don't understand," said the man, his eyes not leaving the elf lying in the bed. "I'm his friend. Just a friend."
Henric's sword lowered again, and the man looked at him. "He will die if I don't help him, and I can't let that happen. Please, I can't. He's like a brother to me." His voice cracked ever so slightly. "He's my friend."
Henric sighed, and put the sword down. "Alright," he said. "Tend to him and you can stay here."
As soon as he said those words the man rushed across the room and fell to his knees beside the bed, flinging his cloak back from his arms. "Mellon-nin," he murmured. "What happened to you?" He tenderly felt his brow, frowning at the heat that was radiating from the elf. "When did you find him?"
"My daughter did," said Alya, who was now standing at the foot of the bed. "And my son. It was yesterday morning."
Cat peeped out from behind her mother. "Is the elf going to die?" she asked in a small voice.
"Not if I can prevent it," said the man. He already had his pack off and was rummaging through it in search of something. Finally he drew a small bag out of his pack. "Can you boil some water?"
"I've tried bringing down his fever," said Alya, but she moved and filled the kettle anyway. "I was an apprentice healer in Minas Tirith. The elf has a cut on his shoulder. It is turning black- I think it is poisoned."
"Aye, it would be," muttered the man, more to himself than anyone else. "You can't just go missing, can you mellon-nin, you have to get poisoned as well. Stubborn elf."
Telan watched as the man drew some leaves from his bag and crushed them. A sudden wholesome smell filled the air. "What are those?" he murmured.
The man smiled briefly. "Athelas leaves," he replied. "Though you probably know it as kingsfoil."
"Kingsfoil!" exclaimed Telan. "Like in the stories. The King used it to bring back the Steward and the White Lady, didn't he?"
"Aye, he did," said the man softly. "Yet it is used commonly now." He cast the leaves into a bowl of boiling water that Alya had poured and put it near the bed. For a few minutes the man did nothing, and the rest of the room was silent, watching.
The man himself was watching the elf carefully. After a few minutes he nodded, apparently satisfied, and then began to go to work. Taking out a dagger, he cut away the bandage over the elf's shoulder, grimacing as he pulled it away to reveal the black wound underneath.
Alya watched impassively, before moving away and picking up a bowl and a rag. Someone had to clean the blood off the floor.
"Ai, mellon-nin, you have outdone yourself," he murmured. He pulled a strip of linen from his bag and soaked it in the water, before taking it and beginning to run it over the wound. The elf moaned and tried to twist away, but the man held him down with one hand, murmuring soothing words in another language as he cleaned the wound.
The scrap of cloth was dunked again and again in the boiling water as it turned slowly black. As the man pressed down on the wound again, a vile substance started to leak from it. The man mopped it up with the rag, cleaned it and then returned to the wound, pressing down on it to make more of the ooze trickle out. The elf writhed in his feverish sleep, but the man did not stop until bright red blood welled from underneath his hands.
He sighed, and took a needle and thread from his pack. As he began to thread it, Alya joined Henric, who wrapped his arms around her. Telan knelt and picked up Cat. They watched as the man carefully sewed up the wound. Afterwards he chewed up some herbs and then rubbed the paste over the wound, before pulling more linen from his bag and wrapping the elf's shoulder securely. Only then did he stop and sit back with a sigh.
Telan spoke first. "Is he gonna be alright?" he asked.
"I don't know," said the man, studying the elf's face. "Maybe. He has pulled through worse things than this. But then again, half the time it is luck that gets him through." He paused, seemingly lost in thought.
Cat was the one to break him out of his thoughts. "Who are you?" she asked from Telan's arms.
"Cat!" said Telan, but the man had the barest hint of a smile on his face.
"I am Strider," he said. "The elf's name is…Las. Yes, Las."
To Be Continued...
I hope 'Las' isn't too annoyed with his nickname! It was the only thing I could think of using without giving away who he was, and Thranduilion or Greenleaf were both too long to write :)
Next chapter will be up in two days- a Saturday for me. Please review!