oh my god i'm so sorry this took so long... and after i promised to not make you wait as long as last time... *shakes head sadly* anyway, as usual, i don't own lotr, but cri, cearien, and riana are mine :)
reviews are loved, especially since they give me the drive to keep writing!
The Fellowship Plus One
Chapter Thirty-Five: Uncertainties
I sat back on top of the roof much later, the stars glimmering above me. Leaning back, I looked up at the stars and the clouds rushing across the sky, carried by a great wind. I thought, as my hair blew around my face, of both everything and nothing. Below me, I heard the sounds of preparations being made, although for what, I was not exactly sure. But I certainly had a lot to think about, so I ignored them in favor of my own, private thoughts.
Between my little brother, Aragorn and what Gandalf had said to him, and Legolas and my ever-growing and slightly irritating attraction to him, and my I could have spent months on top of rooftops and still never figure it out. I sighed, closing my eyes as I remembered their reactions to hearing and seeing what I was.
o.O.o.O.o.O.o
"So, basically, you're telling me that you're not human at all?" Gimli growled, glaring at the young gir-dragonling before him. He'd always known there was something off about her, but he'd never guessed it would go that far, especially when she looked so human… Riana smiled nervously at him, her expression wary.
"That is true, Master Dwarf. I am a distant relative of the dragons of old, with no human blood in me."
"So how to you look so human?" the Dwarf grumbled, still miffed.
"Honestly," she answered, her voice soft, "I don't know. This is as I have always been, as my parents were, and as their parents were before them. I do not know how we came to be this way, only that we are." He huffed, not believing it a bit. Legends survived, didn't they? He was about to ask when she answered his unspoken question, "Certainly, in the past, there were legends, but… most of our legends have died with us."
The sad, quiet tone to her voice kept him from asking any more persona questions of that sort. Instead he kept quiet for a moment, trying to think of other questions he could ask. It took him a little while, but he remembered the strange power she had showed on several occasions.
"Does this have to do with what you were going to explain to me months ago? Back when we were fighting by the river." Riana smiled slightly but didn't answer at first. Gimli sighed deeply, his patience tried almost past bearing, and asked again, "Does it?" Riana moved her hand to her sword-hilt, smiling still.
"It does. As you know, this sword was gifted to me by the Lady of the Wood. At first glance," she paused, drawing the blade smoothly from its sheath and holding it aloft so it reflected the lamplight, "she appears as most Elven-blades do. However…" She paused, uncertainty in her eyes. Legolas placed a hand on her shoulder; Gimli wondered once again- and certainly not for the last time- what had gone on between them. They had grown closer, that was true, but he hadn't known exactly how close.
"Go on, Rianadra. It is safe to tell them," he barely heard the Elf whisper in the young gir- dragonling's ear. This was going to get complicated… Although knowing she wasn't human did certainly explain a few things, like her hair and eyes, and her elf-like build. Riana's deep sigh brought his attention back to their conversation.
"My people, many years ago, crafted weapons like this, similar to Elf-blades, but with a Power smelted in as the blade was forged. It was a dangerous way of crafting swords, but they were powerful, very powerful, and many of them wound up with a consciousness of their own that was not found in any other weapon crafted. That Power would respond to only one of my kind, although they may not know for whom it was made when they forged it… I never fully understood it although I had heard of the practice."
After a moment's thought, Gimli asked, "So that power is what made your sword glow and you to fight like that, having never been trained?" She nodded.
"I believe so, at any rate." He sighed gruffly.
"And you were worried about telling us this, why?"
o.O.o.O.o.O.o
I grinned at that memory. After that, the conversation had flowed smoothly, with me explaining things, like my dragon form and wings and ability to fly. Indeed, it had been a very amusing conversation; since it, I had been wondering why I had been so frightened of telling them what I was. The only reason I could come up with was the primal fear instilled in virtually any nonhuman being… that fear of being discovered, being hunted… and killed.
It was that fear that had held me silent, and that fear that would keep me so. I couldn't risk anyone other than the ones I trusted knowing the truth about me. I groaned aloud; this was getting far more complicated than I had ever expected it to be. I half wish Gandalf were here, so I could ask him his thoughts, but he was gone. Gone…. How I hated that word. It made me think of far too many people who had vanished from my life. My parents, who I barely remembered, my little brother, and the friends I had made since leaving Mirkwood. I sighed deeply, burying my face in my hands.
A soft voice startled me out of my reverie a while later, "Rianadra?" My shoulders twitched slightly, but I didn't startle any more than that; by now I was somewhat accustomed to the Elf's love of sneaking up on people. I turned to face him, pushing my hair away from my face.
"Legolas," I answered, my voice equally soft. He smiled at me, and I tried to return it. I don't think I did very well, though, since the look in his eyes was deeply concerned.
"It is not wise to spend so much time alone," he told me gently, moving to sit next to me. "It makes your friends worry." I ran a hand through my silver hair, trying not to sigh yet again.
"I know that, but… I can hardly think down there… it's like the air changes, makes it hard to breathe." He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me against him. "I don't mean to make you worry, Legolas," I added as an afterthought, knowing it was mostly him he talked about when he spoke of my "friends". He chuckled softly.
"I know. I know you need to think, but I think you should not be alone." I leaned against him, appreciating his silent warmth and support. Maybe he was right, and I was spending too much time alone. I had been by myself a great deal since Helm's Deep. Burying my face in his shoulder, I whined deep in my throat. He heard me and chuckled again. "Which is why I am here now. We need not speak, but you should not be alone, not right now." My throat grew tight at his words, and I knew, absolutely certain, that I loved him then.
o.O.o.O.o.O.o
It was barely noon by the time Cri and the young soldier of Gondor arrived at Minas Tirith. Despite the ride not having taken as long as either of them had anticipated, Cri was exhausted; he felt burdened with a weariness that went beyond physical and mental, and into something far deeper, and far more frightening. He was barely staying on the horse's back, the young soldier supporting him more often than he supported himself.
He was exhausted enough to hardly even register when they arrived at the great city; none of its grandeur registered with him. It was all he could do to stay awake, let alone notice something more than the horse's black mane in front of his eyes. The soldier seemed concerned, as he brushed off the guards at the gate, instead riding straight off into the city.
He stopped finally in front of a series of houses, and swung off immediately, calling for a healer. Someone responded only seconds later; Cri hardly heard what they were saying, catching only snippets.
"…needs help, he's barely…"
"…take care of him, my Captain is worried…"
"Take him inside," a hard but kindly voice spoke, and Cri heard that. Gentle hands helped him off the horse and into the house before him. The new voice kept speaking, but the young dragonling didn't hear a word he said, conscious only of the hands that helped him out of his riding clothes and into a bed. He was asleep before his head even touched the pillow.