Hello again! First and foremost I must once again apologise for the massive delay between the chapters! for some reason it took me ages to write this! I partially blame it on me getting the new Zelda game this month and so my time is mostly dominated by that. Secondly I can't believe I missed my stories 2nd birthday! Two years and still people are reading! yay!
Lastly I am posting another chapter straight after this one, but it comes with a warning... The next chapter will contain sex. (gasp!) It is sort of explict so if any readers are underage or do not approve of sex or sexual content please feel free to skip it. I've wrote it so that the chapter can be skipped without missing out on any crucial story line. This story was rated M with the idea in mind that it will contain violence and sex. So no flames.. you have be warned.
Now on with the show!
Elanor floated in and out of consciousness, a hazy dream becoming her reality. The vision in her mind showed her calm woods and tall, sunlight trees. A voice sang sweetly, the music floating down to her ears. She felt safe and warm. The sun began to set behind her and the ashen-grey of evening seeped in. The sky suddenly burnt out and covered the woods in darkness. Slowly, the smouldering distant hills and the blackened trees faded away into nothingness.
Elanor awoke with a start to a dimly lit room. Small flames flickered upon the walls, casting the grey stone room in a soft light. She found herself lying upon a soft bed, a fur trimmed blanket tucked up about her. She was vaguely aware of the voice that still sung softly somewhere in the room. She blinked wearily around her, her head still heavy with sleep. Her eyes floated to her left where they fell upon a shape lying close to her. It took a moment for her to realise that what lay beside her was a body. Panic set in as Elanor realised that more bodies lay around her. What was this place? Her first thoughts were that it was a morgue. Was she dead? Elanor lifted her head and tried to look around her but when she moved her body and sharp pain seared through her. She cried out and brought up her hand to clutch her shoulder. Suddenly the singing stopped and a shadow stepped through the dark towards her. The figure carried a candle that illuminated its steps and slowly the darkness retreated and Elanor could make out a face. A woman lent over her, an old, wizened face looking back at her with concern. She wore clothes of white with an apron tied about her waist. She spoke softly to her and placed a calming hand on Elanors shoulder.
"Be still Child." She said, "You have been badly hurt."
"Where am I?" Elanor choked out, lying back down. "Am I dead?"
The old woman chuckled softly and shook her head. "No, you are healing well. You were one of the lucky ones."
As she spoke the woman looked around to others in the room. Elanor followed her eyes to a far corner of the room where other bodies lay shrouded in white cloth, their faces covered. Elanor looked away silently. There were over a dozen in this room alone, how many more white cloaked bodies lay in his building. The old woman stood slowly and moved about the room, lighting more of the candles that hung upon the walls. As the room grew lighter, Elanor looked around to see others laid upon beds, most still asleep. The woman stepped back across the room to check the person next to Elanor. Elanor did not know him but was glad to see the rise and fall of his chest to show he still lived.
"Where am I?" Elanor asked again as the woman collected a bottle from a shelf and poured some of its contents into a glass.
"You are in The Houses of Healing." The woman answered her, walking over to her bedside and handing her the glass. "Drink this." Elanor frowned at her but took the glass and held it, shakily to her lips. A sweet clean scent rose from the cup and she inhaled deeply.
"Athelas?" Elanor asked. The woman looked at her surprised but smiled. "You know your herbs."
"I had a good teacher." Elanor said, but then she stiffened suddenly. "Aragorn!" she cried, "and Legolas!" Elanor sat up suddenly, crying out as she pulled at her wounds. The cup fell from her hand and clattered loudly on the stone floor. The old woman moved swiftly and held her still.
"Stop it or you'll open your wounds!"
"My friends!" Elanor cried again, panicking. "Where are they? Are they dead? Please tell me!" She pleaded with the old woman, tears springing to her eyes. Elanor grasped at the woman's apron. "My father, is he alright? I saw his face but I do not know what is real anymore!"
The woman hushed her as tears fell down her cheeks. "If it is Lord Aragorn which you speak of then, he is well." she said softly, "but I do not know of your father unless you give me your name."
Elanor choked back a sob and looked to the woman. "I am Elanor Peredhil, daughter of Elrohir, son of Elrond."
The woman nodded. "The sons of Elrond I have also seen, though I could not tell you which was which." The woman smiled softly. "But the other name which you mentioned, of him I have not heard."
"Legolas." Elanor whispered, her heart sinking.
"I do not know a man by that name."
"He is not a man, but an elf. Fair and tall as those from Mirkwood are." Elanor said as an unspoken hope grew inside her when the woman's faced changed to something of recollection.
"His name is not familiar to me," she said, "but the young man which carried you here had golden hair and a face as fair as those of elf-kind. He wore clothes of green and silver."
"He's alive." Elanor breathed in relief and the woman laid a gentle hand on her and guided her back onto the bed.
"Do not fret child." The woman said, "If he is in the city I shall find him." As she spoke she stood and headed towards the door.
"Wait," Elanor called out, "What is your name?"
The old woman turned and smiled. "My name is Ioreth, eldest of the women who serve in this House."
"Thank you Ioreth."
Ioreth smiled and gave a small bow before leaving the room. Elanor watched her leave and lent back on the bed. Her body was aching and strangely weary. She lay down and breathed deeply inhaling the scent of the spilt athelas. It hung on the air, fresh and clean as if the air had been blown from some snowy mountain or foaming ocean. As she breathed its sweet influence, Elanor felt her pain lessen and she began to drift back into sleep.
It seemed like only minutes had passed when Elanor awoke to a gentle voice. It was singing once again but this was different; different words, different meaning. It was softer and melodic. Slowly Elanor opened her eyes and smiled.
"Legolas."
The singing stopped and the elf smiled down in relief, his face was lit and his hair shone with gold by the flames all around them.
"Amelamin." He said softly. "Never have I been so glad to hear my name."
"Legolas." Elanor said again, this time more desperately. She reached out to him and carefully he gathered her into his arms and held her until her tears stopped and her body ceased to shudder. The elf drew back and regarded her carefully. A large bruise had begun to form along her neck and collar where she fell. Her left shoulder and forearm had been bandaged but still the blood had seeped through showing the large gouges that remained underneath.
"Are you hurt?"
Legolas looked back at her and smiled reassuringly. "Nothing that will not heal." Elanor flicked her eyes over his face and body, checking for any visible injuries. Finding none she relaxed. "And the others?"
"Our company endured few losses. It was the Gondor armies that suffered most. Aragorn is downstairs in the great hall. He speaks with Gandalf upon what course is to be taken."
Elanor shifted in her bed and pulled the blanket back from her body. Legolas frowned as she swung her legs around and over the side. Legolas grasped at her as she tried to stand.
"You shouldn't be moving." He said quickly, pushing her back down.
"Please, I have to see them." Elanor pleaded.
Legolas looked her and sighed, knowing he could deny her nothing. He turned to Ioreth, who Elanor had not realised was standing in the room. "Is she well enough to move?" he asked.
"Most likely as not, but I do not think that will stop her." The old woman said with a smile. She nodded to the prince. "You help her up and I'll get you a gown."
Legolas stood waiting outside the wooden door leading to the Houses of Healing. A smile spread across his fair face as he heard the string of curses, followed by a swift reprimand, coming from inside. A moment or two later the door opened and Elanor appeared stumbling slightly aided by Ioreth. The old woman 'tsked' and rolled her eyes but handed Elanor over to him. He held her gently around the waist and together they walked the corridor down to the main hall of Minas Tirith. They could hear voices as they approached, the loud voice of Gimli booming out towards them. They rounded the corner to find him perched upon the steward's seat, the others looking up at him.
"Let him stay there. Let him rot! Why should we care?" The dwarf growled, the smoke from his pipe billowing out as he spoke.
"Because ten thousand Orcs now stand between Frodo and Mount Doom." Gandalf said. The wizard looked tired as she sighed. "I have sent Frodo to his death."
Aragorn walked forward to the centre of the room. His face was weary and dishevelled and Elanor was worried to see the large rips in his armour. He moved slowly and with certainty. He voice was quiet when he spoke. "No. There is still hope for Frodo. He needs time and safe passage across the Plains of Gorgoroth. We can give him that."
"And just how do you intend to do that?"
The group turned at Elanors question, only just realising her presence. Aragorn's face burst into a smile. There were calls of greetings and all at once the fatigue faded from the group. Elrohirs face shone with relief and he hurried over to embrace his daughter. Elanor breathed shakily as Legolas let go of her and she fell gently into her fathers arms. Her eyes began to cloud with tears, so great was her relief at finding them all unharmed. When her father finally released her, her smile was so bright the others could not help but smile back. She greeted them all, speaking briefly to Edain and Talin worriedly when she saw Rammel and the others were not with them. Edain assured her that her friends, though wounded, were well. Suddenly it dawned upon her that one of there group was missing.
"Merry!" she cried, looking around. "Where is he?"
Aragorn stepped forward with his hand raised. "Merry will be fine." He said calmly. "He was touched by the darkness, saving the Lady Éowyn."
Elanor hand flew to her mouth as she gasped loudly. Aragorn placed a warming hand on her shoulder. "Pippin was the one to find him. They rest now in the Houses of Healing."
"But Éowyn?" Elanor asked confused.
"She rode out in disguise and fought bravely, saving the king from Mordor's hordes."
"Is she..?" Elanor whispered, unable to finish her sentence.
"She too will be fine, but alas, the king is dead." Elanor fell silent and her gaze shifted to Éomer who stood sombre and quiet in the shadows of the great hall.
Aragorn squeezed her shoulder slightly, before frowning down at her.
"Should you be walking about like this?" he asked her. Elanor shrugged and merely smiled at the ranger.
"Your left hand is still injured." Aragorn said seriously, eyeing her arm.
"Then I shall use my right." Elanor smirked and Aragorn chuckled softly, shaking his head. "So what is this idea of yours?" she asked him softly. Aragorn stepped away and once again his face became solemn.
"To draw out Sauron's armies. Empty his lands. Then we gather our full strength and march on the Black Gate."
Elanors eyes widened in surprise and behind her Gimli choked loudly on his pipe. From her left Éomer stepped out from beside on of the stone pillars.
"We cannot achieve victory through strength of arms." The rider said, folding his arms across his chest, staring at Aragorn.
"Not for ourselves." The ranger answered him. "But we can give Frodo his chance if we keep Sauron's Eye fixed upon us. Keep him blind to all else that moves."
"A diversion." Legolas spoke as he walked back to his place beside Elanor. From his place upon the stewards seat Gimli snorted loudly.
"Certainty of death. Small chance of success. What are we waiting for?"
Gandalf, who until now had said very little, moved towards the ranger and took Aragorn aside. "Sauron will suspect a trap. He will not take the bait." Aragorn looked at the wizard and gave a knowing smile. "Oh I think he will."
Slowly he turned and looked to the others, eyeing them all in turn. "Get what rest you can." He said. "We leave at dawn."
Phew.. another chapter done! Again I repeat that I have to beta so please forgive any mis-spellings and/or grammer. Now if you're feeling brave (or a bit smutty) please read the next chapter! If not I'll have the next one posted by the start of next month!
Amelamin roughly mean Beloved.