Conversations

Chapter 11 - Raina

Perhaps going to work would be a good plan of action. That way, I had something to keep me occupied while I waited around on Elladan. He may have texted me, but he certainly hadn't given me any indication he wanted to see me or that we needed to confront things now. I had no hopes about that, now did I?

It was an empty house I returned to, in fact. I had no clue where the confusing elf was, but I didn't have time to focus on that. I hurriedly changed into my uniform and forced down a FiberPlus bar. When I pulled my uncovered container of grapes out of the refrigerator, I closed its silver door to see someone standing in the kitchen doorway.

"Oh hey, Trey." I flashed him a smile as I turned away and set the container down and opened a cupboard for a plastic cup. "I thought you were at Tira's."

"I was," he answered in a noncommittal kind of way as I tossed a couple handfuls of grapes into the cup to eat on the way to work. "But Tira and Ro needed some…alone time."

I frowned. "Ro was here, though."

"Yeah, well." Trelan shrugged. "Alone time, to sort thoughts out or some such. I thought I'd check on you." He eyed me closely, the obvious worry and the way he sized me up unnerving me slightly.

"I'm heading to work." I put the grapes away, dried my hands off and turned to face him. "So how much do you know?"

He shot me a startled look before walking past me to the window overlooking the front yard. "Enough, I'd say." He was silent for a moment, then, "Too much, maybe," he muttered to himself.

"Trey?" I pressed, confused, taking a step closer to him.

Trelan shook himself out of his reverie and turned to face me. "Just thinking. Suffice to say, I do know what is going on."

"Ah." I nodded. "Then you'll know it's not so very awesome around here right now."

He tilted his head at me, a tiny smile on his face I didn't know what to make of. "And how are you handling things?"

This time, I shrugged. "Well enough, I suppose. It…is just another step. I don't know where Elladan is, but that's neither here nor there. I guess…it's a waiting game."

"So it would seem." He answered unhelpfully.

"Is that so, O Deep One?" I teased as I slipped my purse on to my arm and snatched up my cup, popping a grape into my mouth.

"I don't have answers to give you, Raina. Elladan is the one who needs to be doing the answering."

I shot him one last look. "Well. That's his prerogative." I shrugged. "But I've got to go. I'm under orders to not miss work." I tried for levity again, wanting to be happy, but I couldn't quite strike that balance again.

"Alright."

-0-

Work. Bah. Thankfully, since I accrued the main chunk of my income from freelance writing at this time, I didn't have to have a day job like others right now. Still, I preferred the buffer and a bit of a schedule to my life, so I worked a few days a week at Borders. It gave me something to do outside of my house, to assure that I didn't become a hermitic bore who never gets any sun.

Not that working inside lets me get sun, but that's a side-note to the point. That's why I had an internship with a local landscaping agency, too (that, and credit and experience and all that good stuff). Note to self: check personal schedule and figure out where you must be tomorrow.

Hm. The jury's still out on whether or not I should take a weekend job in the fall when school starts again. I'd cross that bridge when it got a little closer. Going into my final year this fall, I might just decide that I had no time for anything else but studying…which would probably be true. I'd have my hands full just continuing my freelancing in all of my non-school-focused time.

I love books, though. So working at Borders is a good compromise, all things considered.

"Hey, Keliann," a voice drawled near my ear.

Except for that. I shot George a look as he leaned against the shelf beside me while I restacked a few books. There was a strange sound, perhaps of a book hitting the floor, on the other side of the shelf as my coworker flashed a grin at me.

"Hello, George," I replied as patiently as I could.

The store was not very busy right now, with only a few customers here and there, and I guess everyone was hard-pressed to find something to occupy themselves with. (Annette, the store manager, was in the kids' section, poring over the books and making a list of ones she wanted to purchase for her toddlers, Amber and Alice.) George, I guess, thought he'd occupy himself with what I was beginning to wonder was his favourite pastime—hitting on me.

"So…thought about my offer any?" He leered at me.

"I don't really know what you're referring to."

"Whatever, sugar."

I frowned at him, then slipped a World War II fiction into place. Had he seriously called me sugar?

"Did you cut your hair?" He asked, reaching out a hand to my bangs.

As a matter of fact, I had. This weekend past. But that is none of his business. "Don't touch me." I shot him a warning look.

Irk. He dropped his hand and looked all wounded. "Oh fine, deprive me."

Now we were getting all dramatic? I suppressed a snort and moved down the shelf to a new spot. George followed, hovering right beside me.

"So, have any lunch plans?"

Yeah, that thing called eating, you dope. I fought back a smile at my unvoiced sarcasm. "Yes, I do."

There was a soft creak sound on the other side of the shelf as a huge grin split his face. "Excellent. Are you in the mood for sandwiches or…Starbucks?"

I resisted another unladylike snort. "Let me clarify, I have plans with someone, and you're not him."

I didn't, as far as I knew. Sometimes Elladan showed up and surprised me with something, but those visits were rare, and I certainly didn't expect Trey to show up.

I risked a glance towards him, to see he was actually pouting. Pouting! Like a child! Maybe I would text Trelan after all and see if he could play the saviour.

"A boyfriend? Surely someone as beautiful as yourself isn't available." There was a gleam in his eye as if he was hoping this conjecture was wrong, and not caring if it was right.

I paused at that, considering. Did I have a boyfriend? Was I available? As far as I had been concerned up until this point, I most definitely was not available, because Elladan and I were together. Were we still together? Had we ever been? What were we?

"Look, George," I started, trying to come up with a suitable answer. I didn't want to hurt him, but I wanted him to get the message that I wasn't interested. "It's not really your business, is it?"

"Yes, it is." He flashed another grin. "Since I want to go out to lunch with a certain pretty girl."

I blew out my breath in noisy irritation. "And what are you going to do if the pretty girl declines?"

"Keep asking until she realises the great-looking guy is the one she should have been with all this time."

Seriously? Could he be any more full of himself? He was brushing one hand through his hair which was so-so to my estimation, a sort of dirty blond. Definitely not nearly as gorgeous as the long, thick, black hair…bad, bad mind…I blushed at my own thoughts.

George, of course, thought the blush was for him. Great. And was someone throwing books on the floor on the other side of this shelf?

George grinned. "You're cute when you blush. Can't wait to see if that blush covers anything else."

Um, gross. I didn't want him seeing that. Ever. And what was with the shelf? Because, suddenly there was a very loud thump which issued from the other side of the shelf and I frowned. I walked toward the end of the row to go see if someone was vandalising the books or something, but before I got there George's hand grabbed my arm.

"George," I sighed. "Kindly remove your hand."

He slid it up towards my shoulder. I repressed a gag.

"I said re-move, not move." I jerked my arm away.

Okay, someone was definitely damaging something over there. Shaking George away, I rounded the shelf only to see a tall person in jeans and a nondescript blue hoodie. The second he -for it was definitely male- heard me coming, he turned and walked quickly away. I frowned in his direction and checked the shelf.

The books looked shoved around; one book's jacket cover was wrinkled at the top of the binding, as if it had been dropped, and the bottom was torn. Scowling at the roughing up of the books, I eyed the title with listless disgust -New Moon- then tried to smooth the damage out a little.

The clueless prick came over to me again, put an arm on one of the shelves, and leaned casually -flirtatiously- in. If I was anyone else, I may have hit him for trying to so innocently invade my space.

"You even make a scowl look pretty," he whispered huskily, brushing his fingers over the back of my shoulder, towards my neck.

I roughly shrugged his hand away. "George, stop that."

I paled when he didn't back away, but instead he stepped in closer, wrapping his arm around my waist so I couldn't pull away as he leaned in. "Practically no one's here, and the back bathroom's free," he purred in my ear, his breath warm and unpleasant on my skin. "I want to know if you're as soft as you look," another, even huskier whisper as he caressed my hip and dropped his head down to my neck.

My heart raced with terror and panic had frozen my mind, but when he tugged at my tucked-in shirt and pressed himself closer to me, something feral and instinctive snapped me out of it.

Throwing my forearm into his chest, I forcefully shoved him back enough to ram my fist into his face. As he stumbled back, I snatched up a book and hit him over the head with it, sending him to the floor. I threw the book down and fled.

"Annette!" I gulped, flinging myself behind the older woman, as if to put her between me and George, even though he was nowhere in sight. I gulped again, gasping and trembling. "Annette, we've got to call the cops."

Shocked, Annette stared at me with a measured look of panic. "Why? What's wrong?"

"It's George. I'm going to report him."

Calming slightly at this last sentence, for it meant there was no robbery or vandalism (I wouldn't mention the book; it seemed so trivial now), she eyed me. "Why? Look, hon, I know he really has a thing for you—"

"Really has a thing for me!" I snapped. "He tried to come on to me!"

Annette bit at her lip. "I'm sure it's not that bad."

"Not that bad? He invited me to the bathroom. He tried to untuck my shirt." I showed her my, yes, partially untucked shirt.

"Keliann, honey, let's think about this…harassment charges could cost him his job."

I levelled her with a look. "And? He's a menace to female kind. I've told him before I was in a relationship and he refuses to back off. What if next time he corners me somewhere I can't get away? Like the storage room?"

For a moment, the other woman looked genuinely concerned as she considered this. Then she shook her head. "I don't think he'd really do that."

I gaped at her, finding it arcane that she was not helping me.

In an attempt to give Annette the benefit of the doubt, I tried to remind myself of the reason why I hadn't told Elladan about George already. The elf has an extraordinary protective streak and until today, George had done nothing more than make flirtatious comments and pester me about spending time with him. Annoying, but it was typical of men today, and I didn't want Elladan to fly off the handle and get us in trouble.

See, I didn't doubt that Elladan would, at least, deck any jerk who wouldn't leave me alone—and assault charges were not something we needed to deal with, even if the elf had been in the right. So I hadn't said anything, because, as already mentioned, the prick had done nothing more than be a little too friendly and flirty. I wasn't sure I would even have a case against him, to claim sexual harassment to explain away having beaten the persistent dude up.

If I had known George would go this far, though…I shuddered and felt ill.

"Annette, please. I really think he'd do that and much more." My hands shook at the thought, wondering why I got all the creeps. Logically, one could figure that it must mean I'm a beautiful girl, but I did not feel confident in that. If that was the case, it made me want to go home and find the baggiest clothes in my closet, chop my hair off, and hide in a hoodie all the time.

I did not dress provocatively; I did not sashay around like most girls; heck, except on the rarest of important occasions, I wore sneakers, not heels, and never stilettos. So why me?

She shrugged and my heart sank as I realised she was not going to deal with this as a very serious problem. "What you and George decide to do is between the two of you; I don't get involved with other people's personal lives."

She said this like this was how it was justified and it covered her butt. Once more, I could only gape at her, but she quickly turned away.

Overborne, shaken, and -I felt- justifiably terrified, I rubbed my head and pressed the heels of my hands against my temples as Annette made herself scarce.

"Raina? Ho there!…are you alright?" Trelan's voice suddenly caught me off guard and I started slightly.

I looked up and felt relieved to see him, someone I figured I could trust. Part of my brain told me that I could, but I had thought I could trust Elladan and Annette and I…no. I knew I could trust Trelan.

He eyed me closely and approached warily, as though not sure he should get too close. He glanced around suspiciously and dropped his voice to ask, "What happened?"

What happened, indeed. It felt too uncomfortable to discuss. "What are you doing here?" I asked instead.

He shrugged. "You looked a little out of sorts earlier. I figured I'd come take you out for lunch, cheer you up."

If I was out of sorts earlier…I was way out now. I managed a smile, though. "Thanks, Trey. Did you have someplace in mind?"

Again, he shrugged. "Whatever you want is fine." He cast another careful glance around.

I blew out a heavy breath, thinking that I did not feel like eating. I felt like marching myself back to that bathroom and being sick…oh god, the bathroom. I folded my arms, as if to hide or protect myself, and clenched my trembling hands.

"Raina?" Trelan's worried tone brought me out of my spiraling, dark thoughts. "What is it?" he pressed quietly.

I shook my head. "Not…not here." I said, suddenly wishing to get very, very far away from here. "Let's go." I gestured to him and then hurried to get my purse, rushed through telling Annette I was taking my lunch break, not particularly wanting to talk to her any more than I had to just then, before leading the way out the door.

All the while, Trelan didn't say anything and I briefly wondered what he was thinking, but I could tackle questions and explanations in a little bit. First, I had to get away.

When we stepped outside, my gut tightened with a cold knot of apprehension when I saw George a few feet away, puffing away on a cigarette. Unconsciously, I shifted closer to Trelan.

I must've stepped too close, because his hand suddenly pressed against my shoulder and I jumped away. Mortified at my reaction, I barely chanced a look up at him.

He narrowed his eyes speculatively, then glanced around, seeing only George as he smoked and chatted on his phone. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but Trelan must have, because he made a muffled noise that sounded suspiciously like a growl as he ground his teeth.

When his eyes flickered to me, though, all he did was say quietly, "Let's go."

I was all too agreed with this plan, so I didn't press him and just took off across the parking lot to my car. It wasn't until I had turned the engine over and buckled up that I finally opted to say something. "How about Central Market?" I asked, knowing that it wasn't too far away, and thought I could at least manage a salad…because, even though I should have been starving by now, I was not hungry at all.

"That's fine." He answered, then glanced over at me. "Raina, what did he do?"

Startled at his perception, I did not reply at first. "Who?" I asked at last, thinking that I should confirm what I thought he was referring to.

Trelan did not answer and I frowned, shooting him a look. As I pulled out into traffic, I pressed again, "Who, Trey?"

"How about you tell me who." He replied instead of being helpful.

I sighed and tapped my fingers restlessly against the steering wheel. "If you mean George, he was a prick."

He muttered something that sounded decidedly unfriendly, but was not understandable to me. I glanced over to see a dark look on his face as he glanced out his window and the protective disgruntlement moved me deeply, breaking open a dam, such that I felt that it would be alright to just…tell him.

"I don't know what you heard," I said as preamble, my eyes flickering between the stoplight and the rearview mirror idly.

"It is not worth having been said once, let alone twice." Trelan answered with obvious anger, but I knew it wasn't directed at me.

"He's been…bothering me for weeks," I started, slow as I searched for a way to explain. "A comment here or there, pestering me about hanging out outside of work…I honestly had had no clue he'd take it that far, though."

"That far? How far?" He rounded on me sharply, eyes flashing and tone flinty with a defensive caring that I had never witnessed before. It dumbfounded me and warmed my heart.

I removed one trembling hand from the steering wheel, rested my elbow on the middle compartment, and pressed my fingers against my mouth, taking several deep breaths. "Far enough, the cad."

"Did he hurt you?" The restrained ire and horror in his tone caused me to make a quick assurance.

"No. I decked his face." I answered simply.

A slight smile twitched at his mouth, but his tone wasn't amused as much as it was approving when he said, "You would."

I let out a shaky breath. "He…said some things I'd rather not think about, invited me to the bathroom. When I told Annette, she was less than helpful."

"He didn't…try anything else?" Trelan questioned suspiciously.

"He did…grab me. Like I said, I clocked him a solid one." You know, as uncomfortable as the subject was, I found it easy to open up about it with him. It was like what I would imagine talking to one of my older brothers about boy problems should be like.

Only, my brothers are completely hopeless at being protective of me. I remember once, after a Skillet concert I went to, this guy coming up and sitting on the bench beside me and asking me questions and angling himself toward me all uncomfortably. One of my older brothers was sitting on another bench perpendicular to mine and he knew how ill at ease I was around boys, but he didn't do anything. In fact, he mentioned later how rude it was of me to have run off so quickly to get our siblings the moment our parents pulled up.

Like um…it was dark and that guy was way too close for comfort and you did nothing? How was that supposed to make me feel?

I shook these memories off, surprised at myself. I hadn't thought of that particular incident in a long time.

Trelan sighed heavily and ground his teeth, but when he spoke next it was with a relatively calm tone of voice. "Are you going to report him?"

"I'm going to have to go above Annette to file a complaint, because she won't do anything."

"Why not?"

"Because George is the blasted nephew of some corporate head, and he thinks he's a hotshot. And Annette is trying to save her own skin, I guess." I answered as I pulled into a parking space. I felt a little bit less tense now and I shot Trelan a grateful look. "Thanks for this, you know."

He looked at me, confused. "For what?"

I shrugged. "Caring, for one thing, I guess. Coming to get me, for another."

The smile he shot me, tender and warm with eyes still protective and flashing from the ire he felt over some punk who'd tried to hurt me, appeased some of the ache chiming away in my heart.

-0-

"You've hardly touched your food except to poke at it." Trelan pointed out, drawing me from my thoughts.

I blinked, coming back to the here and now. True to his words, I had been listlessly stabbing my fork at the salad before me. What had I even been thinking about?

Elladan. What else.

His eyes, his smile, his touch. His hesitant, chaste kisses. How difficult it was to consider giving men any amount of trust -a notion George had happily reaffirmed afresh today- but the way he had assured me, so long ago in Imladris, that it didn't have to go as far as hating anyone and that I could heal.

I looked up and smiled weakly. "I'm not really hungry."

Worry flashed across his face, but he didn't press me about it. Only said, "Try to eat what you can."

"I am." I speared a piece of spinach and chicken and took that bite, as if to show him I was doing exactly that.

He had finished more of his food than I had of mine, but now his fingers fiddled idly with a napkin and he eyed it intently as he asked carefully, "Have you heard from Dan?"

Well. I hadn't expected that one. "No." I paused. "Not since this morning, when he texted me."

Trelan nodded, but didn't raise his eyes.

I let him have his thoughts and went back to trying to force more food down. He was silent for a few moments, churning something around in his mind as he picked at the napkin. Then, "I haven't seen him, but he texted me, too. You know, he's really thinking about you."

I froze at that, understanding the assurance behind the words. My fork hovered above my salad and I kept my gaze riveted on it. I turned Trelan's words over for a moment, then whispered, "I wonder if he'll come back."

"He will." His voice was quiet but reassuring.

I glanced up. "What makes you so sure?"

Trelan shrugged easily. "As I said, he's really thinking about you."

"And how do you know that?"

"I said he texted me. Seeing as you were the entire focus of that text, I would say it should be obvious."

I frowned, stabbing at my salad. Elladan's text this morning showed that he was thinking about me and him talking to Trelan about me… I was torn, wanting to be warmed and assured at it, but hurting nonetheless. "I shouldn't have left this morning," I decided, and a touch more bitterness than I realised was in me slipped out.

"What do you mean?"

I exhaled heavily so that the expunge of air stirred my bangs, absently noting the way the hair fell back into my eyes. I lightly tossed the locks out again. "It's my fault he's disappeared, you know. I pushed him away, rejected him when he needed something other than that." Whatever it was he needed.

"Raina, what…what is it you need?" Hmph. Seems to me that I should've been the one doing that kind of questioning.

"Oh no. No, no." Trelan said softly, leaning forward to lay a hand on my arm. I glanced up at him and he shook his head at me. "No, Raina, it's not. And you should not think that it is. Elladan shut you out. Didn't he." This last should have been a question, but it wasn't. He gave me a look, just daring me to tell him otherwise.

Dang. He really is perceptive…that, or Tira -or Elrohir- had hinted to him about how this morning had gone.

"Elladan…" he sighed, searching for the words. "He took off like this, not because of you or because you left, but because of him. Because he can't…well, can't something." He shrugged helplessly, coming up short for an explanation. "But whatever it is, it is not your fault."

"And you just know this how?" I pressed softly, blinking at the sudden press of tears behind my eyes.

"I know…I know because Elladan is…Elladan." He shrugged. Oh, how helpful. Thank you O Wise One. I rolled my eyes. "That's not what I meant. Elladan is…like a book written in a different but almost familiar language. You can sort of guess at what this word or that means, but you're not sure if you're interpreting it right. But to me, I know more of that language, so I can translate it better."

"And what language is this?"

"It's the language of love and loss, of personal hate for oneself."

Trelan hated, or had at one time anyway, himself? This made me slightly curious.

Before I could come up with a proper question to pose to him about it, though, he continued, "See, whatever everything means, Elladan could never really blame you for any real crime on your part. That isn't to say he doesn't unjustly blame people for things, but it is exactly that—unjust. And Dan…you know, he's actually always had a good sense of justice. Thus, he may act like he does but he can never really blame anyone for anything that is not truly their fault."

I sat back, pondering that one. It was…interesting. The perspective, that is.

Trelan sighed and sat back as well, bringing my gaze up to his again. "Dan…he runs away from the things he can't face, and that is what is going on here."

"What can't he face?" I queried helplessly.

"You."