Just a Friend- Chapter 11

Here is more conversation including our beloved blond elf- I seem to recall someone asking about that.

Sorry if this is not the most thoroughly edited piece of work- I have just gotten back from seeing the TFIOS movie, and oh wow did I cry. I was a wreck in the cinema. Don't get me wrong, it was amazing, but I cried so much! As soon as the credits started rolling, you could just hear all the sobs in the cinema (including my own). As a result, I now have a massive headache.

Disclaimer: see Chapter 1

They practised together for most of the morning, on and off, though Strider always kept one eye on Las. For most of the time the elf was sleeping under the boughs of the tree, but as the morning wore on and noon came, Strider noticed he was awake, idly flipping Strider's small dagger in his hand. But then Telan tried to knock back Strider's wooden sword, so he turned back to their practice.

It was around noon when Alya came out back to where Strider, Telan and Las were. She was carrying a small covered basket. Beside her was Cat, struggling with large, heavy waterskins.

Strider put his wooden sword down on the ground and pushed the dark hair out of his eyes with a smile. Alya pulled back the cover on the basket to reveal bread, cold ham and cheese. "How is it going?" she asked Telan.

"Great!" said Telan enthusiastically. Strider chuckled.

"He is good, for someone who has never lifted a sword before. He would make a good swordsman."

Alya pursed her lips slightly, but her gaze turned to Las, who was awake, but looking into the woods with concentration. "How is he?" she asked softly.

"Being outside is helping him," said Strider. "But he is still weak. He is not better yet."

Alya nodded. "I hope you don't mind Strider, but I fetched the elvish bread from your pack for Las." She pulled it from the basket and handed it over.

Strider smiled. "My thanks," he said. He watched Cat with amusement as she handed Telan a water bottle, and Telan poured it over his head. He grinned at Strider as water dripped down his face.

Alya laughed. "I will leave you to it," she said. "Come on Cat, there is bread to be made."

Cat made a face, putting the other waterskins on the floor. "Can't I join in?" she asked.

"Fighting isn't for little girls," said Telan.

"Why can't girls fight?" asked Cat, pouting.

Strider smiled slightly. "They can," he said. "I knew a woman who fought in a battle, and she fought as well as any man. What I think Telan means is that you are too little to hold the sword."

Cat frowned, and Telan chuckled. "Maybe when you are older, kitten," he said, and Cat turned and followed Alya back inside.

Strider picked up a waterskin and made his way to Las, crouching down at the elf's side. "What is it, mellon-nin?" he asked as he uncorked the waterskin and handed it over.

Las turned his gaze from the trees and towards Strider with a smile. "It is nothing," he said. He smiled, though his voice was weary. "The trees are peaceful. It is so different to Ithilien."

"Aye," said Strider. "I forget, sometimes, that there were places outside the war that remained almost the same. To them, the war was a frightening thing happening somewhere else, taking their men away."

Las nodded. "Is that lembas?" he asked, his gaze falling on the packet in Strider's hands.

"Drink first," said Strider. He looked over his shoulder. "Bring the basket of food over here, Telan."

They sat under the tree and ate the food that Alya had brought them. Las only ate a little lembas bread, before putting it down with a sigh. He leant back against the tree. "Don't get poisoned," he murmured to Strider. "It really is unpleasant."

"That advice has come far too late, mellon-nin," said Strider. "But I am sorry."

Las looked over at him. "Don't," he said in the Grey Tongue.

"Don't do what?" asked Strider.

"Don't say you are sorry," said Las. "Saes, do not say it. Not to me."

Strider frowned. "Why not?"

"Because every time you say it, I can't help but feel guilty, mellon-nin," said Las, his voice weary. "I can't help it."

"What in Arda are you talking about?" asked Strider. "What do you mean?"

"I already cause you enough pain as it is," said Las. His voice was tight, as if he was trying to keep it in check. "I already hurt you so much, Estel. You are always here, trying to save me. You have to watch me battle, again and again, and it hurts you more than you care to admit. It is I who should be sorry."

Strider grabbed one of the elf's hands. "Don't you ever say that to me," he said, his voice rough. "You can't say that to me."

"Why not?" asked Las wearily.

"Because it is I who am constantly hurting you, mellon-nin!" exclaimed Strider. "Don't pretend like you are completely happy here. I saw you when you first heard the gulls. It is my fault you walked those paths."

Las cut him off. "That is nothing right now," he said. "The pain caused by those gulls is nothing I would not bear for you, mellon-nin, and for Gimli, and all those still on this earth. Do not blame yourself over that. I would have followed you anyway."

Strider shook his head. "You are asking me to watch you fall apart, mellon-nin. I…I talked to my brothers. They have known…others. And this time, I can't catch you. I can't help."

Las smiled slightly. "You can, Estel. You are still Estel, despite everything else. The war has not taken that away as well. I won't let it." For a moment the elf's voice cracked and he stopped talking for a moment, trying to compose himself.

"The war has changed everything," he said wearily. "And I will not let it take away anything else, or anyone else, that I love. You cannot be sorry for me, Estel, because things have to still be the same. We can't have lost everything, mellon-nin. We can't have. And never before have you told me that you feel sorry for me."

"But I do feel guilty-"

"How can you say that?" Telan jumped, startled as Las spoke up to Strider. "Estel, you cannot say that to me! What I may have done or not done is on my hands. The deaths of those in Mirkwood, that maybe I could have saved if I was there, are on my hands, not yours. You did not pull me away from there. I came willingly, and I would do it all again, mellon-nin. Every single part."

Strider sighed slightly. "It will not go away," he murmured. "Nearly every night, I see Boromir die in my arms, or Halbarad. I see everyone we didn't manage to save. And the world did not even pause to say sorry to them. The world did not stop to say how they didn't deserve what they got. The world laughs at them."

"I know," said Las softly. "Believe me, I know. So many people didn't have a happy ending. I spent hundreds of years in Mirkwood seeing just how the tales of old didn't matter one bit, not when you were lying there in pain. It doesn't work that way, and you know it, Estel. Nobody gets a good ending, at least not any of us."

"Aye," murmured Strider. "My ending will come when I am old, and can no longer keep up with you. It will come when I lose all chance of being who I was, all chance of doing anything else worthwhile. Your ending…" He sighed heavily.

"My ending will come when I can no longer hold onto this earth," said Las calmly. "But it will not come for a long time, not until I am too broken to maintain a grip. I will never leave you, Estel. Never."

Strider smiled. "I know," he said softly. He turned back to the basket of food. "Eat as much as you can, Telan," he said. "The more you eat, the more energy you have and the bigger you grow."

"Does it help, being really big in a battle?" asked Telan as he ripped a slice of ham apart. Strider glanced over at Las.

"Not necessarily," he said. "Elves are slimmer and smaller than men, and yet I know Las could very easily kill many people bigger than him."

"And dwarves are far shorter than elves or men," said Las softly. "Yet they are still deadly when they need to be." He smiled slightly at the memories.

"What is important," said Strider. "Is being able to read a battle. It is all good and well charging in with your sword raised high, but if you happen to be charging at someone who is aiming to hack at your legs, then it is pointless. You have to be able to know exactly what the other person is about to do before they do it."

"How do you do that?" asked Telan.

"Watch their eyes," said Strider. "Whilst at the same time watching everything else around you. A man's eyes betray their movement, and in the heat of battle, few remember that."

Telan nodded eagerly. "Watch their eyes," he repeated. "Okay. What if they aren't in front of you, though? What if you can't see their eyes?"

"Eventually you will be able to sense it," replied Strider. "Where your opponent it, what he is planning to do. If you keep fighting for long enough, you will be able to feel it."

"Do you think I will ever be able to?" asked Telan. "Feel it without looking, I mean."

Strider sighed. "I pray to the Valar that you will not have to," he replied. "The reason I can fight well is because I have been fighting for most of my life, and I am old. You do not want to fight your entire life, Telan."

Telan frowned. "But I want to be a soldier," he said. "I want to be able to fight."

Las suddenly looked up. "Telan," he said in his quiet, not yet melodious voice. "You do not want to have to fight like we have fought. The shadow is gone now, and you should be very thankful that you did not have to fight it."

Telan wasn't satisfied. "But I want to be able to protect people," he replied. "I want to be able to defend my family, and my home."

Las smiled slightly. "And that is admirable, Telan," he said softly. "But you do not understand. You have never seen a war, penneth, and it is not glorious. It is not remotely good. Aye, you should want to defend your home. That is good. But believe me when I say you do not want to be in a war. Strider and I, we had to fight. Neither of us had much of a choice. But war is not glorious. War is not celebrated. War is violent, and messy, and too often the people that die are the ones that don't deserve it. You need to understand that, Telan, before you choose."

Telan nodded, slightly surprised, as it was the longest Las had ever spoken. Las smiled softly, and then leant back against the tree with a sigh. Apparently the speech had made him weary again.

Strider smiled slightly. "He's right, Telan," he said softly. "But that can't stop us practising. Come, pick up your sword and we will go again."

Telan grinned and vaulted to his feet, scrabbling in the dirt for his sword. Strider was already on his feet. A soft smile was on his face as Telan got his sword and held it up. They moved slightly away from the now sleeping form of Las, and Telan shifted into the position Strider had taught him.

Strider raised his wooden sword. "Ready?" he asked him. Telan nodded, and Strider lunged forwards. The clack of wooden sticks began to sound out again on the edge of the woods.

To Be Continued...

A bit more emotional angst, with a rather emotional elf :) Probably some residue feels from TFIOS rubbing off on this chapter! Next one will contain more action, definitely, and will be up on Saturday. As always, reviews are welcome.