Eruanne's POV
It took some time and much prompting from the two Elves to get the story out of her.
"The Black Easterling... He seeks always more troops – more men to fight for him. More men to die. So he takes my lady hostage, to force her affianced lord to fight for him. He is prince, high prince of the lands to the east. Lands of rich pasture, many herds, much horses. The high prince, he is leader of men, skilled riders, shoot bows from horseback..."
The woman's voice died away for a few moments. Eruanne handed the woman her own waterskin, and the woman drank gratefully, gulping down deep drafts. While she did so, Eruanne looked at her, filled with curiosity at the signs of mortality before her – the woman's greying hair, the deep lines etched on her brow.
"Why does the Black Easterling need so many troops?" Legolas asked.
"He lost war. Needs to rebuild strength. Fight again. Fight men to west, men in city of stone. Avenge lost master."
"But I thought his strength had been destroyed when his master was overthrown," said Eruanne.
"Black Easterling has queen, his wife. Sorceress. Queen Elohtolpa. She will cast powerful spells. Bring him back to strength. At full moon. Autumn moon, when day and night balance..."
"The equinox," said Eruanne.
Legolas nodded. "That's only a week or so away."
"When day and night balance. Elohtolpa take immortal being, pour her fea into soul of her King, bring back his strength." The old crone's voice became gravelly, and she reached for the water skin once more, apparently unaware of the horror struck look on her rescuer's face.
"The fea of an immortal being," said Eruanne, her voice barely above a whisper. "What immortal being?"
The old woman drank noisily once more, then wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. "An elf maid, like you," she said. "Hair like fire... like yours."
Legolas' POV
Legolas watched as Eruanne's face set into an impassive mask. He doubted any of the mortals' eyes would have seen her expression change just for a fleeting space of a heartbeat, but he saw it. Saw the look of utter horror, then the look of bleak, despairing sadness, sadness deeper than the sea beyond which stretched to the horizon. His gut clenched, his heart seemed to twist within his chest. He longed to draw her into his arms, to hold her head against his body.
She drew a deep breath. "We have little food with us, just some way bread. Legolas, you have your bow. Could you shoot some of the marsh fowl for us, so that we can eat?"
Collecting his thoughts, Legolas nodded curtly and set off. Eruanne took the younger woman and the two least injured men and set off to gather drift wood for a fire. Before long, they had a small blaze going. Legolas returned with three geese which he plucked and dressed, before spitting them and propping them over the fire. Then the two elves set about dealing with the wounds. They cleaned the welts and sores on the mortals' bodies, then Eruanne applied the rest of the green salve she had made the day before to treat Legolas.
"Thank the Valar we immortals heal quickly," the Mirkwood elf muttered so softly only her keen hearing could discern his words. "That is an indignity I do not want to suffer again." He watched as the corners of her mouth quirked for an instant, then she returned to the impassive mask she had worn earlier.
The rag tag bunch of people they had rescued ate ravenously, then began to settle for the night, wrapping themselves in filthy blanket. The child snuggled up to the old woman, and the younger woman lay close by. The men settled at a respectful distance.
Eruanne sat down preparing to take watch, and Legolas stretched out upon the ground, gazing up at Elbereth's firmament soaring high above them, black velvet studded with sparkling stars which blazed in the darkness. A slither of crescent moon hung low above the horizon to the east, reminding him uncomfortably of the ticking clock counting the seconds to the full harvest moon and Elohtolpa's evil plan. He glanced at Eruanne. Her face was outlined in profile, her fine, delicate jaw, her smooth brow, her slightly upturned nose, her high cheekbones. He could see that she too was looking to the east, eyes fixed upon that same silvery crescent, mouth set in a line of sadness, yet at the same time determination. With a sigh, he settled himself to sleep.
He took over the watch in the early hours of the morning, as the sickle swung across the sky to the west. The sliver of moon had long set, but elvish eyes can see by starlight, and he could see that Eruanne lay in her cloak, sleep evading her, staring up to the inky black vault of the sky. As the first purple tendrils of cloud lit the sky above, harbingers of the dawn that was still an hour away, he saw Eruanne get to her feet and walk through the eerie white towers down to the water's edge.
He noticed that one of the younger, less severely injured men was stirring. Quietly, he asked him to take the watch, giving him one of the short swords they had taken from the orcs the day before. Then, almost silently, he followed in Eruanne's footsteps down to the shore of the sea.
Even in this brief space of time, the sky had lightened and the scene was now bathed in a cold, grey light. Eruanne stood, stiff and upright, her stance echoing the strange pinnacles around her. Behind her, the white-silver sand stretched into the distance, curving round the edge of the shore line. Legolas walked towards her, taking care to let his feet scrunch on the gravel so that he didn't take her unawares. The only sign she gave of having registered his approach was to murmur quietly, "Only ten days, by my reckoning."
"Aye, my lady of the daggers." This time, his words lacked any bite: the familiar phrase became one almost of affection. "But be of brave heart, for one of your courage and valour must surely win out, despite the odds."
Eruanne turned slowly. "Do you think so?"
"I know so." Legolas searched her face, taking in the dark smudges beneath her eyes, marks on her otherwise flawless, porcelain skin. Gently he took her hands in his and drew her close, resting his brow against hers. "And I shall aid you, to the best of my ability."
They stood there for a long moment, at peace with one another, drawing strength from the other's touch. Eventually Eruanne stepped back, and as she did so, Legolas finally realised what he had been denying for many weeks past: as she moved away, she took a part of his heart with her.
Thank you for all the reviews.
Bad Ass Female Fighter – yes, the truth was eventually going to come out!
Bettsam0731 – That's an interesting point. Not sure sea longing applies to inland seas, though, more to the one which leads west to Valinor.
Sister of Battle – got it in one!
Guest – thank you. Hope I can live up to your expectations.
Starrienight – yes, it is (hopefully) going to get a bit easier for them now that's all out in the open.
Sian22 – wow, what a fascinating story about the moon. Never realised that.
Bereth Dolgar – yes, he does turn out to be honourable in the end (and she turns out to have had her reasons for being so mistrustful at first).
Thank you for all the new favourites and follows too: HeartoftheArtsari, rosedragonamber, secretly clever, Mirkwood warrior, RSTUV, coffeebookchiller, RoadwayFox,