Yay - new chapter! Unfortunately we don't move along quite as fast as I'd like here, but we're entering into dangerous territory! Can't wait to get some more of Saruman in here - mwahahahaha!
Angel4Ever, Warriorheart5, SweetsumrRain, starlitstarbrit, thank you so much for your super sweet words! :)
neebieone, thanks! I thought she deserved that little tidbit of her younger years after Kili-not-Kili's appearance. I love Aragorn too! We'll be seeing more of him in this chapter, too! And maybe eventually we'll see Legolas getting the scolding he - kind of - deserves.
neverandalways (your pen-name equals 3 on my part BTW), wait and see! You'll have another lovely encounter with Audriel below!
Guest, I cannot wait to share that scene with y'all! It's in the next two or three chapters - I promise. ;))
Hope y'all enjoy! Again, this chapter is rougher and probably needs a good run-down, but I think you guys have waited long enough! I am sorry that I am no longer able to deliver a better quality of writing within the time period I like to set myself - hoping that one of these days that will change!
Tauriel held her head high, ignoring the rhythmic tugging of the stitches as they did their best to hold her flesh together.
She ached all over, though slowly but surely the pain was fleeing her body.
Aragorn hovered at one side, a hand ready at her waist should her legs give out and send her toppling to the floor.
Though she trusted him, indeed, would have considered him a good friend, she hated her inability to care for herself.
Years of mostly self-imposed solitude after her banishment had forced her to either fight her way back to her feet when ill or injured, or suffer the often deadly consequences.
She flinched as his calloused fingers brushed her torso.
Friend or not, she did not like the feel of anyone else's hands upon her body.
She still had memories of her past that tainted the reality.
"Your mother is quite likely to challenge me to a sparring match when she learns of this," Aragorn said out of the side of his mouth.
The corners of Tauriel's mouth tilted upwards gently, and even that slight movement was mostly forced. "I doubt it," she bit out, past her ridiculously swollen throat. "She would not dare risk her chances with the rest of what was once the Fellowship."
"You make a fair point."
They turned a corner and began the trek down a flight of stairs.
Tauriel made the mistake of placing her weight solely on one leg and promptly felt it give in, folding awkwardly and sending her stumbling dangerously.
Aragorn caught at her arm just in time, hauling her back and setting her on her feet once more.
"Thank you," she half-whispered, refusing to meet his gaze.
The Ranger seemed to search for words - she knew that he was trying to ease her discomfort - but eventually settled for silence.
She cursed her body and mind both, taking the steps with painful slowness that surely was sending him half-mad.
She was not one to take anything slowly, and in the back of her mind there was a whisper that he did not mind and she should not either.
She gritted her teeth and pushed those thoughts back, locking them securely away.
With time, Tauriel became more aware of Aragorn's quiet, solid confidence. Often silent, he was always there, ready to catch you if you fell, but she knew full-well he was a leader and warrior in his own right.
Oddly, he reminded her a bit of Legolas, if she stretched the comparison.
She shook herself, scolding her traitorous consciousness, and settled back into the slightly awkward silence.
"Audriel truly does care for you," Aragorn said abruptly.
Tauriel flinched, hard, and immediately felt like a fool. She was not a child, scared of the dark and running from the whispers of the wind, she thought furiously.
"Indeed."
It was a statement rather than a question, yet invited further illumination on his part.
They turned another corner, and the stench of death washed over them both. Piles of bodies drew her attention, eyes staring sightlessly. She remembered Haldir's face as the warmth left his body and his life blood slowly drained away.
Bile rose in the back of her throat.
"Have you seen her interact with others?" Aragorn asked.
"Aye."
"Then you will know that her treatment of them is a far cry from her attitude when she is with you."
"And yet she abandoned me when I was but a babe and did not come back until it was far too late to take her place as my mother."
Aragorn met her gaze steadily. "She knows that she made mistakes."
Tauriel pursed her lips, biting the inside of her cheeks until her teeth began to puncture the skin. She still did not know what to think.
Many clearly despised her mother. They made no effort to hide it, either.
Others were impartial.
She suspected they were just better at hiding their emotions.
And some - some cared little for Audriel, yet told her that she should give her mother a second chance.
"I will not risk letting her in and then have her leave behind once more," Tauriel said flatly.
The stables loomed before them, and she breathed a silent sigh of relief. Almost there. Hold on...
"It is a risk you will have to take. You will never know if you do not take the chance that she does indeed love you and wishes to rekindle what she once smothered."
Tauriel snorted through her nose, regretting the action as she promptly began coughing painfully.
Aragorn shot her a concerned look, but relented as she fairly pushed him away from her and stumbled into the stables.
The smell of horse sweat and sweet, clean hay washed over her like a balm, wiping away much of the sickly stench of the death that had greeted her outside.
She inhaled as deeply as she could and swayed dangerously, black spots dancing before her eyes.
She cursed again.
To be so weak - it had been so long since she was unable to care for herself completely.
She was not fond of the sensation.
"Aragorn," she murmured, and in a flash he was at her side, a hand underneath her elbow as he supported much more of her weight than she would have liked.
"Tauriel," he said in a low voice, "you are still weak. I do not wish you to risk your life purely so we can ride out sooner."
She turned to meet his gaze with a surprising amount of steel, all things considered. "We - I - must ride out - today," she repeated, but offered no further explanation.
He grunted low his his throat, looking less that pleased.
She ignored him as best she could, turning her attention back towards the horses.
"Brego," she said. "Where is Brego?"
Aragorn called out to the stable-lads, and within moments a boy was scrambling from the loft, his face pale, the layer of grime streaked with tear tracks.
Tauriel felt a dull pang as she realized he was likely mourning the death of friend or family. And yet, he was still here, carrying out his appointed task without hesitation or, seemingly, complaint.
And then she found herself wondering if he was here purely because there was nowhere else to go.
She gritted her teeth and stared the slightly morbid facts in the face, telling herself that she would not shrink from the truth.
As Aragorn asked the boy questions, his voice gentle, she let her consciousness stray.
Inevitably, it found its way back to Kili-not-Kili, Aruelle - my mother? she wondered - and skirted around the reality of the state of her own mind and body.
A gentle tug at her forearm snapped her from her thoughts. Aragorn pulled her towards a stall towards the back, where no sunlight filtered through and the corners were filled with cobwebs. She felt irritation at the conditions of the building begin to mount, but shook herself. They were almost entirely unwarranted.
"He will be scarred for life," Tauriel said in elvish to Aragorn. "At least he was not quite old enough to join the battle himself."
He glanced at her, the corners of his mouth tightening. "No child should have to suffer through what he has. His entirely family is now dead."
Tauriel paled. "What?"
"His grandmother died in the battle. Under your command, I believe."
She hunched her shoulders, guilt stabbing at her. "Birdget," she whispered raggedly. "His grandmother's name was Birdget. And you are not wrong when you say it is my fault."
He frowned; he had not said that, but let it go. Arguing with her would do little good and would only serve to raise her ire and tire her more.
Tauriel slid through a gap in the slatting of the wood and into the stall. She could feel Aragorn's eyes on her - this was the horse that had saved him, after all - but cared not.
She murmured random words into his ears, watching as they flicked back and forth. She leaned back against the solidness of his side, listening to the steady whoosh of his lungs and feeling the velvety warmth of his coat.
"If you will, help me mount up," she finally said to Aragorn, the words falling bitterly from her lips.
He nodded, understanding painted all over his face, and moved to help her.
Legolas stared down at the rough, bristly ridge of his horse's mane, rubbing at it somewhat absently as he waited.
Without warning, Mithrandir had appeared at the door to his own chambers, eyes sparkling, and had cheerfully announced that they were leaving before the hourglass was turned again.
Now, they were all waiting for the wizard's actual appearance. Tauriel and Aragorn were also noticeably absent.
He frowned mildly, his mind edging around the subject of Tauriel for several moments and then giving in and plunging head-first.
No matter what he did, it seemed, even the most carefully laid plans failed and curdled much like sour milk, poisoning Tauriel's perception of him as her blood had once been tainted.
He oft times had to remind himself that she, too, had made mistakes and provided ample reasons to lose his trust.
It was sometimes easy to forget that, when he had stony green eyes plastered to his back as she glared at him furiously.
For a long time, he had forgotten how much anger she could imbue her stare with.
He sighed, the exhale so slight a casual observer would not have noticed it.
The horse shifted underneath him, leaning harder on another leg.
Legolas wondered how he was supposed to gather the pieces up this time and turn them into something new.
Beyond his tumultuous relationship with Tauriel, there was the matter of her injuries.
And her mother.
He had not ceased to worry about Tauriel's well being. If anything, her dismissal of Gimli and himself from her chambers had served to send all the alarms clanging in his head.
Something had been wrong.
Very, very wrong.
But he had not pushed the matter further, and now he was fervently hoping he would not come to regret that particular choice. After all, the situation she had been placed into was mostly his fault, too - he had failed to alert her to the mild side affects to the balm and she had clearly been suffering somewhat.
Abruptly, the soft clop of hooves on cobblestones pulled him from his musings,
Tauriel eased her stallion - Brego, was it not?- into the small group. Aragorn was right behind her, unnecessarily close to her mount.
Her face was deathly pale, her lips pinched tightly. And yet somehow it only served to enhance the great, burning pools of green fire that had seemingly sunken deep into her skull.
Watching from the corner of his eye, Legolas noticed the ever-so-slight sway of her body in the saddle and the way Aragorn had one arm half-out, as if to catch her as she fell.
A wave of concern - and more than a little guilt - washed over him.
"Ah," someone said, and Legolas stiffened in the saddle, caught mostly unawares.
"Gandalf," Tauriel said in way of greeting, her voice low and raspier than usual.
Aragorn nodded, but remained silent.
"Are we all here, then?" the wizard continued.
A low murmur swept across the group as they answered with affirmation. "Aye," Legolas said.
"Good," Gandalf said, sounding pleased. "Shall we go, then?"
"Yes," Tauriel burst out vehemently, the action completely out of character.
"Really," someone else drawled throatily, and Legolas felt the blood drain from his face.
No.
Not her.
Not now.
"You would leave without me, my daughter?" Audriel asked, sounding almost legitimately wounded. But there was a sharp edge of laughter to her voice, and so Legolas worried not about her feelings. He had not forgotten what she had said to him mere hours previously, and his body was half-tensed as he waited for her to turn on him with razor-like words and flaming accusations.
"Mother," Tauriel said, surprise flickering over her face. "You would join us?"
"Indeed." Audriel snapped her fingers, and within moments the reins of a dun mare had been pressed into her hand.
Legolas gritted his teeth and waited for Mithrandir to do something - to object, at least - but was sorely disappointed.
The wizard looked strangely accepting. Weary, yes, and perhaps even mildly reproachful, but still he did not move to stop her.
Audriel mounted, the silence heavy around them all.
"Well?" she demanded, sounding irritated. "Do you intend to stand around doing nothing?"
Gandalf seemed to force a smile. "Goodness, no. He brushed his heels against Shadowfax's sides, and the white steed leaped forward.
Audriel hummed low in her throat with clear satisfaction, and settled into place at Tauriel's side.
Legolas bit his tongue, hard, but remained silent.
Tauriel was caught between Aragorn and Audriel. There would be no way to slide up alongside her and ask that she speak to him.
And so he fell back and did his best to content himself with watching.
Waiting, too.
His eyes were keen and his hearing sharp, and he intended to put both to good use. He was willing to wait. For years, perhaps, if necessary. When he found even the meagerest of footholds, he would begin the climb.
This time, he promised himself, he would not slip and fall.
Eowyn twisted her hands together tightly, wringing them until they were striped red and white.
... take care, for you will only have so much time with him and there will be no chance to say goodbye ...
A shiver snaked its way down her spine.
For a good bit of her life, she had heard whispers about the elves - bedtime tales, she had always thought, stories spun to scare small children.
Now, though, she realized there was more truth to them than she would have liked.
They were deadly. And beautiful, almost impossibly so. They were seemingly the embodiment of perfection.
Why, then, she wondered, did Tauriel seem to be so - fragile? - no, the red-haired elf was nothing if not a vicious, almost brutal fighter. Shadowy, perhaps. There was an undefinable something underneath her usual calm facade that most of the other elves did not have.
She had fairly begged Audriel - yes, that was the name wasn't it? - to let her join them as they rode out. She had argued that Tauriel would need someone who was able to care for her as she healed.
Audriel had stared at her without emotion and then bluntly said that it was no longer a problem; she would be joining the Fellowship and watching over her daughter herself.
Eowyn folded in on herself, face burning as she remembered Audriel's lip curling as she looked Eowyn up and down.
She had pleaded, for goodness' sakes.
The memory was more than a little humiliating. For all her strength, Eowyn was still prey to insecurities. Being silently, but thoroughly, scolded by an elf - a gorgeous, awe-inspiring, highly skilled elf who was a close embodiment of what she had long wished to be, no less - had done nothing to boost her confidence.
She sighed, letting her hands fall to her sides.
Take care.
Take care, Eowyn.
There will be no chance to say goodbye.
Thranduil placed a hand on his son's shoulder, standing behind him and slightly to the side as Legolas watched a certain red-haired elleth spin across the training grounds, her movements entirely too dramatic for practicality.
"Why do you keep her under such careful observation?" Legolas asked carefully, his words slightly halting as he strove to ensure he did not accidentally insult his father.
"Because she has potential beyond measure," the Elvenking responded easily, the lilt of his voice rising and falling, the sound rich and almost hypnotizing. "And because she reminds me of someone I once knew."
Legolas frowned ever so slightly, not quite comprehending. "She does? I was led to believe you know not where she comes from."
Thranduil turned, his cloak draping across one shoulder. There was a fresh coat of powder-white snow gracing the forest far above them, and the chill had slowly started to creep underground.
Legolas followed after a moment's hesitation. "Ada?"
"I do not know where she came from," Thranduil said slowly. "I do, though, remember her blood-line."
"Aye?" Legolas stepped forward almost eagerly. Thranduil watched with sharp eyes, an arrow of unease hitting him.
"Indeed. And it because of them I wish to watch her so carefully - they were -are, even now- poison." There was a touch of bitterness tainting his words, and he fought to wipe it away. "Why did you wish to know, my son?"
"I was thinking that we could perhaps return her to her family," Legolas said, sounding, for a moment, ridiculously innocent. And yet he had fought and killed and spilt his own blood upon the earth so many times before...
Thranduil allowed the corners of his mouth tilt upwards ever so slightly in a genuine expression of fondness. Clearly, there was nothing to be worried about. Legolas wished only to unite her with her own blood-kin, nothing more. "You are kind-hearted," he told his son, and Legolas ducked his head at one of his father's rare displays of open praise. "Take care, though, that you do not allow yourself to be blinded to the darkness in this world."
"As you say, father," Legolas murmured, fingers playing absently with the fletching on one of his newly-crafted arrows.
Thranduil nodded without further comment and turned his attention back to Tauriel.
There would be time enough to inform his son of her true heritage, if indeed he ever decided to do so.
Aragorn eyed Audriel with a hint of distaste, watching as she bristled angrily.
They had halted for the night, and he had helped Tauriel down from her horse carefully, noting the way she had paled every time something jolted against her skin.
The sun had gone down soon after they had settled the horses onto pickets for the night and handed out rations of food. Tauriel had picked at hers for several minutes, forced down several bites, and then handed it to Gimli without a word.
Audriel had cornered him at the soonest opportunity, her eyes narrowed to slits and her bearing blatantly threatening.
"You let her go," she snarled at him through gritted teeth.
"Aye," Aragorn answered calmly. "I thought it best to allow her some freedom. To say no would be to invite a complete act of rebellion on her part. You know that as well as I."
She fumed for several seconds, her shoulders jerking oddly, the contours of her face smoothing strangely and then snapping back into place. "It matters not. She has no care for her own well being, Ranger! She will ride until she drops dead to the ground and think nothing of it. The line must be drawn somewhere."
"I did what I thought best."
Audriel flinched. "What you thought best may be the death of her," she snapped, but her ire was slowly ebbing away. He could see it in the set of her shoulders and the tilt of her head, and was glad.
"Perhaps. But would you have cared to try and stop her?" Aragorn asked easily.
Audriel's lip curled, her eyes suddenly and startlingly turning pitch-black from iris to pupil.
Aragorn stiffened, a hand straying towards the hilt of his sword.
"I warned you to tread with care," Audriel said, her voice dropping, the timbre husky as her skin turned starkly white and her hair brightened in color.
"Indeed."
"Why, then, did you not heed my words?" she asked, seemingly genuinely curious.
Aragorn tilted the sheathing of his blade forwards slightly in preparation for an extremely fast draw if it was required.
"Because I do not fear you, Seena," he said softly.
The air crackled and hummed all around them.
He almost expected a bolt of lightning to come down and strike the earth upon which he stood.
He almost hear her thinking.
Could see the flexing of the muscles in her hand as she decided whether or not there would be a fight.
Another moment passed.
He did not let down his guard.
And then she moved.
Blazingly fast, her feet barely touching the ground, and there was a blade in her hand as she slid towards him with teeth bared, glinting white in the paleness of her face.
Instinctively, Aragorn whipped his sword out and upwards, locking blades with her and leaning forward.
She was strong.
He had known this before, but now he realized he had underestimated exactly how much force she was able to put into a blow.
Her eyes, when they met his own, were pools of pure black malice.
The metal screeched as it shifted.
Aragorn used his height to an advantage, rising upwards and then pushing down.
They were locked together, toying with the idea of actually fighting - either one could disengage in a moment - and Aragorn was loathe to harm her; his own feelings aside, Tauriel seemed to care dearly for her mother and he had not the heart to remove the last piece of her family unless he absolutely had to.
Audriel - Seena - chuckled.
The sound sent chills racing down his spine.
"I watched a friend of yours die, you know," she said sweetly. "Watched the blood leave his body and the light fade from his eyes."
Icy fingers scraped their way down his back. "I care not," he said, with forced steadiness, and pushed down even harder.
She hummed with sickening satisfaction.
It occurred to him that he did not like the ease in which she was holding her blade up; her arms showed little to no signs of giving in.
And abruptly there was a blade at his throat, pricking his skin, razor-sharp and deadly.
He stiffened, and in the space of half a heartbeat he had to decide whether or not to try and lunge for safety or to drop his blade and let her have her way.
"Enough," Audriel said flatly, clearly having guessed at what he was thinking. "Drop your weapon."
He tensed for a long moment, and then slowly - slowly - dropped the sword to the hard-packed earth.
She grinned and lowered the blade that had been pressed against his jugular. "Good."
He noticed she was careful not to allow him access to any of his other weapons.
"Well, then," Aragorn said calmly, and even now his mind was spinning, working its way through the options presented to him, "are you going to kill me?"
Her lips pursed, and staring into the oil-like darkness of her eyes was chilling. "No," she answered coolly. "Not quite yet. You made the mistake of trying to hurt my daughter, the only thing in this world that I still love. You hurt her, and therefore you hurt me. Anyone who hurts me ends up dead."
He lifted a brow, icily calm, the motion somewhat derisive.
"You still think I do not love her," Audriel said, nearly surprised, and abruptly the color flooded back over her face, her eyes going green once more, her skin and hair returning to their original colors.
"It is hard to believe when you are holding me at sword-point," Aragorn said dryly.
Audriel smirked. "Let me put you at ease, then: she is all I have left. I will kill for her, bleed for her, die for her if necessary. You would be wise not to under-estimate my feelings regarding her again."
"As you wish," he said calmly. "Tell me, then," he added, and one hand was slowly straying towards a knife at his belt, "how are you going to explain your killing me to Tauriel? I admit, I am curious."
She stared at him for a long moment.
And then she burst out laughing.
The sound spread across his skin, and oddly enough she no longer seemed to be angry.
Audriel doubled over, taking care to move backwards as she clutched at her stomach.
She was laughing so hard she was heaving for breath, and Aragorn had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to do or think. He drew the blade from his belt.
"Oh, Ranger," she gasped, straightening and sheathing her blade, "you are to be congratulated. You are more of a man than I had previously thought."
Aragorn fairly gaped at her in utter confusion. His knife was still in his hand, forgotten for the moment. The alarm bells that had previously been ringing in his mind had vanished.
"Please," Audriel snapped, clearly starting to regain her acidic personality. "Did you really think I would have harmed you? I would have to be utterly mad to even consider the idea."
He thought to himself that the likelihood of her being mad was becoming more and more probable with every second that passed.
"It was all a farce, then?" he ground out, and now irritation was coloring his words. He tamped it down - allowing a potential enemy to see your emotions was never a wise idea.
"Aye," she said calmly. "I wished to see what you would do and say. You exceeded my expectations."
He felt a muscle twitch in his jaw, loathing the sound of the compliment as it came from her lips. "I am glad I provided at least some amusement," he said tersely. "I must return to camp."
He turned to go after one more moment of careful calculation, his steps short and measured.
A soft ripple of laughter trailed behind him as he walked away.
"Sauron's wrath will be terrible," Gandalf said, "and his retribution swift."
Somewhere in the distance, a red light blossomed.
Tauriel swayed slightly in the saddle, fighting to keep the black spots currently dancing in front of her eyes from completely taking over. She felt rather than saw Aragorn - and likely Legolas's - worried eyes on her back and did her best to remain impartial.
Audriel turned to smile broadly at her daughter. Her green eyes were dancing, full of promise that Saruman's betrayal would not go unpunished.
"The battle for Helm's Deep is over," the wizard continued. "The battle for Middle Earth is about to begin. All our hopes now lie with two little Hobbits somewhere in the wilderness."
*sighs*
Not much to say, other than I will, as always, update as soon as I possibly can with out providing utter rubbish as reading material, LOL.
R&R, please! :)