CHAPTER 26 - All that remains


Kal watched the commotion before her, listening to the muted murmurs of those gathering for a meal and community. She observed a large widened hearth of black stone carved into the wall at the back of the chamber, warming and bathing the enclosure in a reddish gold light. It was strange, to witness the running of this place. There were no wails of pain or cruel laughter, no hurrying or fretting over beatings. No threats. There were no baleful glances exchanged between any of the inhabitants, no pushing, no fighting over morsels of meat of dubious origin. There was an order of sorts to it all and a quiet submission the inhabitants showed each other. All of it astonished the half-orc, and caused the anxious knot in her chest owed to the encounter with the Easterlings to unfurl and disperse.

The dwarf was speaking, and she turned her gaze towards him.

"Aye, I had arrived not two hours ago when I heard you were here," the one called Gimli was saying before his piercing hard gaze shifted towards Kal. "And...," he looked to Legolas in askance.

"Gimli son of Glóin, this is Kal," the elf said steadily as his eyes found hers. "We met on my return and I have led her here to find rest and safety."

The dwarf seemed to appraise the being before him, his fingers gliding down his beard in swift and silent assessment.

Kal felt a different type of aura emanating from this creature, and it was completely new compared to the icy distrust of the elves.

"Is the wolf under your care?" was all the dwarf asked, tilting his bearded chin towards Eron.

"Eron is indeed," Kal replied a little surprised, leaning to stroke the thickening mane of the wolf, who watched the dwarf curiously, ears perked.

Kal thought she saw the corners of those discerning eyes crinkle slightly.

"Well then," Gimli looked back to the elf, "let's us three go see if there is any supper left," and with that he proceeded towards an area lined with a stock of clay bowls.

Kal blinked. That was it? No glares, no insidious remarks or verbal sparring? She looked to Legolas, whose eyes revealed nothing as he extended an arm for her to follow after the dwarf.

Kal raised an eyebrow at the unusual gesture. "Your friend is... different," she spoke when the elf fell in step with her.

"That he is," Legolas replied, half a smile pulling at his lips.

Bowls in hand, they reached a corner of the wide enclosure where two women oversaw a number of large cauldrons with boiling contents. There were long metal ladles in each, which the dwellers would use to stir and pour. The three each filled a bowl with the contents being served and as they headed towards the tables Kal studied hers with interest. It was a type of strong smelling, thick broth. She saw pieces of what may have been meat, of unknown origin and different colors.

"Oyster stew," the dwarf leaned in to inform her.

"Oy-ster?" Kal raised an eyebrow, lifting a piece with the wooden spoon to inspect it better as they were being led by Legolas to one of the tables. It somewhat smelled of the sea, and Kal looked back to Gimli in confusion.

"Seafood abounds in the valleys and shallows here," the dwarf said in his gruff voice, "it makes a frequent meal here, it does. You get accustomed to the smell after a while," he added offhandedly.

Kal smiled despite herself, more than a little curious of this unassuming being. Who was this dwarf, who did not appear to resent her at first sight? He seemed to be a close companion of the elf, judging by how relieved Legolas was when they met. They were so different and yet, their manner towards each other was like nothing Kal had ever seen.

They reached a table where one other was already seated, and frowning Kal realized she knew him. The dark-haired elf, one of two who had caught her unawares then taken her to the island blindfolded. Aye, one of the sentries he was.

His gaze was emptily cast upon the table but said elf lifted his head at their approach. When their eyes met Kal felt a withering chill, and the back of her neck prickled. His gaze was hard and unforgiving, scouring through her. As Legolas came to the table and passed by him, the other elf was still gaping at Kal before making a sudden move as to rise. His intent was swiftly foiled by a hand pressing heavily on his shoulder, forcing him back down. Legolas then took his own seat beside the now fuming elf, and the dwarf sat opposite Legolas with a brisk nod towards the other.

Kal sat beside Legolas, facing the dwarf. She could still feel the withering gaze of the other elf on her. He is well and angry. Take no heed. It was clear as day that one had little to no regard for her, and the half-orc made it a point to keep vigilant if ever again met with his presence. Yet as her own eyes bravely met his, in that grim and sullen expression Kal saw a tinge of familiarity. She furrowed her brow. Aye, he reminded her of someone...

"Did you follow untroubled from the city?" Legolas was asking the dwarf, interrupting her trail of thought. Kal reached and glided her fingers through the fur of a growling Eron, lowered at their feet under the table.

"Aye, a little bribery and a keen eye go a long way, as you will never know," the dwarf was saying in jest.

Completely different to the manner of the elves, the lively spirit of the dwarf Gimli was beginning to influence her own mood for the better. A mood which darkened anew with the look the dark-haired elf was bestowing upon her. What was his name? Hoping he would cease, she met his stare evenly and so they sparred until Legolas caught his attention, addressing the other sharply in the elven tongue. She only discerned one word. Tadion. Aye, that was his name.

The elf Tadion scowled then and rose suddenly from his seat, not without throwing both Legolas and Kal a look of utter disdain before leaving the table without another word.

Gimli watched Legolas with a strange expression, returning to his fare when the elf only sighed and shook his head.

The meal passed in silence, save for the fragments of quiet conversation the dwarf and elf maintained at times. Kal watched, intrigued at their jests and camaraderie, all of it so new and unusual to her. They spoke of the supplies, as the dwarf called them, which he had succeeded to obtain. Of the dangers and goings of a settlement called Pelargir, and Legolas shared of his findings during his own journey. They spoke not of Kal, nor was she asked to speak at any point in time.

When finished the two friends established to meet on the morrow, and Kal also nodded her silent farewell before she called to the wolf, intent on heading back to her chamber to mull over the events of the day in peace.

"Kal, a word," the half-orc heard as she reached the corridor leading to her allotted abode, and turning her head saw Legolas follow.

Sighing she turned to face him fully, the sting of his manner from before still fresh.

"Well?" Kal asked when they were close enough, her eyes questioning.

The elf seemed to hesitate, but then reached and placed a hand to her shoulder, gripping slightly. His gaze mellowed on her. "You are not to blame for what happened earlier."

She averted her gaze, shrugging away from his touch. "I know that. And yet, it felt as though I was."

"That was not my intent. You are yet a new and unusual presence here. I asked what I did of you because I cannot be there at all times to intervene-"

"Nor did I need you to," Kal interrupted harshly, then bit her lip.

"I know you feel unwelcome presently, but they will all adjust to your being here, in time. When they will see-," he stepped closer to her, "-what I see."

Ignoring the obvious question brimming at his remark, Kal focused on aught else. "It sounds as though you think I would stay," she spoke, crossing her arms.

There was a long, unnerving silence, until Kal could take no more and sought his eyes again.

"You may, should you wish it," the elf added finally, no change in his expression as he watched her.

Kal opened her mouth, then closed it. The beating within was become irksome again, hammering away on its own, and only ever in his presence lately.

"Will you be here on the morrow?" she asked instead, smothering it all down.

"I will," said Legolas, offering what may have been a smile.

"I will search for you. Until then," Kal finished, the need to be alone now reaching soaring heights. Nay, not alone, but well away from him. As fast as her legs could take her. Not waiting for his reply Kal resumed her pacing, whistling for the wolf to follow.

"Until then," the elf uttered more to himself, watching her retreating figure until it disappeared into a side corridor.


The following day Kal woke from an unusually dreamless sleep. An unexpected gift, but one she would not question in her gratefulness. She briefly aided a quiet and reserved Arwen in various chores that morning. When the elf maid had unexpectedly knocked on her chamber bearing a change of clothing, Kal had expressed her wish to be of aid and learn more of their community. And learn she did, realizing that the elf oversaw much of the administration to maintain their livelihood with the aid of the other womenfolk. Not few were the facets of their work, from preparing seafood for the midday meal to fueling the sconces lining the corridors, to taking various items to wash in an underground spring running beneath their mountain dwelling. There was little chatter among them and plenty of odd looks her way, though none complained.

Now Kal allowed her feet to lead her waywardly, treading over blades of grass which swayed in the never ceasing winds. The happening of the previous evening would not leave her thoughts. Mainly it was the short clash involving the Easterlings which stubbornly lingered in her mind, and then the words which followed with Legolas. It all weighed heavily on her chest, and so after the morning tasks Kal had retrieved her weapon. Now, with Eron in tow she followed the path shown to her by the elf the other day.

She walked, and walked, still simmering with the memory of his hard stare on her. A stare reminiscent of the times they resented one another as different races and definite enemies. But that certainty gradually lessened with their unlikely companionship and now aught was constantly wreaking havoc on her peace of mind. What it was though, Kal had little notion. Part of it spanned from seeing him stand so lost on the seashore, and from the sparse pieces of knowledge he had shared. So elves all suffered through the waning of the world, and its wounds were their own. A disheartening prospect to be sure, moreover they were not even meant to dwell here ever after, but in a different place. A place where Power dwelled, and one now denied to them.

Kal felt a worrying sliver of something when she recalled his face in the different situations and moments spent in his presence. The hatred in his eyes when she had taken the elfstone. His suspicious mien when Kal had asked him to trust her. His astonishment and sudden retreat after the elf had tended to her arrow wound in the lonely abode of Faramir. His hand, pressing into her back after they had fought over battling the Uruk-hai. She recalled the harrowing pressure in her chest, when she watched him stand so brokenly before the grave of the ranger and his grandson. And the yet foreign light in his eyes, of anger and aught else she did not understand after the elf had rescued her from the currents of the great river. All of it would weed its way into her thought and lately when they were not together, Kal found she wished they were. Why?

Bearing these thoughts she came atop a high plateau on the isle, lined with sparse trees and the sea ever in view. She inspected the lonesome landscape. This would do well enough.

Kal drew Faramir's sword and held the blade before her face. Amber eyes were mirrored in the metal sheen and new thoughts took hold, of her brief but precious time spent with one old human warrior and a quiet child. She recalled seeing the initial hatred of her his own eyes, akin to the poisonous glares the elves regaled her with. The kind one particular elf kept bestowing upon her. But in the end it was to be expected, however vexing it may be.

A fast swipe of the blade and she was spinning, pirouetting and lunging with practiced steps. Kal allowed her thoughts to drift anew and pondered further on the life these beings led here. They were free. She was free. But was her place here, among them? Apparently, Legolas thought so. Why did that matter? Her wonder over his motives for bringing her to their secret refuge would emerge more often than not. Yet they had not spoken of it at length. And Kal found it difficult to smother her brimming curiosity, deciding she would speak to him upon their following encounter.

The wailing wind lashed at her figure as Kal turned and slashed through the air, the whisper of the sea gaining precedence over her flowing thoughts. All was grey. The skies were of a light grey, reflected in the dark silvery grey of the waters. Then a flash of angry red breached her mind, and Kal staggered back with the sudden pressure felt inside her head.

Down... The word shrieked, insistent and ominous. The new, voiceless urging Kal did not understand caused her to nearly drop her weapon as she sought her balance, her free hand come to her forehead. Down...

"Fine moves you are employing with that stolen sword," a voice hailed from somewhere in the vicinity.

Her eyes snapped open and Kal squared her shoulders when her gaze locked with that of the dark-haired elf, the one who sent nothing but glares her way the previous evening. She saw him propped against a tree with his arms crossed, looking out towards the sea.

"What are you doing here?" she blurted warily, attempting to shield her surprise.

Tadion scoffed and met her gaze. Kal was once again taken by the uncanny resemblance this one posed to Legolas. Though she also thought it was not far from the mark to assume, that all elves boasted similar features.

"What am I doing here? Are you certain that is the right question to pose, orcling?" the intruder asked derisively, eyeing her.

"You are following me," Kal said matter-of-factly, lowering her blade.

"How very astute of you."

"And I stole nothing, if you must know," her pride said. "Its owner..." the half-orc swallowed the dread evoked by the image of a lifeless Faramir lying in the ground "...had no more use for it."

"That I can believe," the elf retorted in an obvious tone of disbelief as he uncrossed his arms and righted himself from the tree trunk, stepping closer to the edge of the high platform they stood on.

"What is it you want?" Kal asked bluntly. She had no wish for words with this one, the memory of his eagerness to end her in the forest taking the fore in her mind.

"Nothing," Tadion spoke unto the landscape before him. "Your knowledge of Westron is quite commendable. I suppose there are teachings to be had even in Mordor," he followed thoughtfully. "Plenty of slaves to learn from."

Silence grew between them until it reached overly pressing proportions in her head. Could he perhaps, leave her be?

"Do you know how orcs came into being?" the elf asked suddenly and with no bite, interrupting the awkward quietude.

Kal frowned, unsure of his meaning and wary of what lay beyond it. He did not trust her, not in the least, that much was certain. She followed her surroundings, assessing to see whether they were truly alone.

"The orcs, your race, do you know how they came into existence?" Tadion repeated with a tired sigh when Kal said nothing.

"I-..." In truth, she did not. Kal had always assumed orcs bred among themselves as she had seen them do. A shudder ran through her. She knew they were a race much, much older than the Uruk-hai. She knew they were clever. They were canny even if disorderly and chaotic, and were the inventors of many of the tools and torture devices used in the dungeons of the Black Land and without. Their mining skills were also quite advanced, considering the usefulness of such an endeavor to their kind. Kal also had a hefty notion of how sadistic, vicious and hateful orcs could be. But no, she knew not how their race came into existence, save for the fact that they were a creation of the Other.

"It is no wonder that the truth would be smothered and forgotten among the lies of the Tower," the elf looked ahead towards the horizon. "The damnable wretches were bred by Morgoth as you surely do know, but the first," and his eyes trailed over her as his lip curled involuntarily, "...abominations of the ilk, were bred from kidnapped and mangled unfortunates of my own kind."

Kal swallowed, striving to hold her unease at bay. Where was he heading with this? What did he want? "Were you there to see it?" Kal asked finally in a failed attempt to sound dismissive.

She may as well have kindled a forest fire.

The calm facade disappeared, and unveiled hatred shone through those striking eyes, its signs plain to see on his face. A face the half-orc dreaded to see in such a way, as it reminded her of-

Cease whatever you are thinking Kal willed unto herself, again confused by the stirring inside at the thought of him.

"Unlike your monstrous kin, we elves hold clear records, and our histories run as long as the Ages. Your petty words do not make it any less true. The orc were bred from elves, captured and mutilated by the fallen Vala your master slaved for," the words cut sharply. "They hate themselves more than anything else, but surely you know that. Chaos is their plight, as Morgoth took what was intended creation and twisted it into a mockery of my kind. And so," his words had long lost of their passion, having become whispers on the wind. "You can imagine what the sight of one such as you would wreak upon my kin."

Her unease rose with the way he was staring at her. As if she were a great looming threat, one to eradicate and purge. Still the half-orc at least wished to glean his meaning. "One such as me?" she sheathed her sword and crossed her arms, resting her weight on one leg.

Tadion leveled her with a confused, piqued gaze. "Have you truly never pondered on the duality you pose?"

"I had little time to ponder overmuch on anything. I was too occupied with staying alive, you see," Kal bit out, half-turning to leave while she could still rein her ire. But aught kept her still. "How do you mean, duality?"

Her lack of knowledge seemed to both astonish and rile him. But then Tadion grinned, as if the workings of a game had been revealed to him.

"Oh...," and unnervingly, his smile turned fey. He placed two fingers to his chin in contemplation. "He has not told you..."

Kal knew whom this elf was referring to, and her curiosity took the better of her despite her growing resentment of him. "Tell me what?"

Green eyes cut to hers briefly before the elf burst into a short, mirthless fit of laughter.

"Cease your taunting will you?" the half-orc threw, more incensed than she wanted to be, losing her patience and all the more irate due to it. But then why should anything Legolas had left unsaid matter? Better yet, why did it matter to her?

Tadion was positively jubilant at her vexed state. His chin dipped slightly as he watched Kal. "That, I will leave to his Highness to share," he said with a sharp smile, eyes narrowing. "I am certain he has his... reasons for concealment."

"His Highness?" Kal frowned. "Speak your meaning," she demanded, angry with her own hapless confusion.

The smile disappeared from his face as if it were a mask. "Aye, orcling, or did you not know? That the one you have somehow ensnared to lead you here comes from a great line of kings? But then again, I suppose it matters not," he finished gravely, and Kal saw renewed hatred in his eyes, the fair face before her darkening in memory. "Not when there is no kingdom to speak of," he looked towards the sea. "But once, not too long ago, there was. Great and green and full of light."

For reasons unknown, a vision from the past swam into view. One she had seen back when Legolas had tended to her wound in Faramir's shack.

"We had a mother, our queen, and the king was our great and noble father," the elf approached with slow steps as he spoke.

"Your... you and Legolas are kin?" her eyes widened. She knew of family structures from the human slaves of Mordor. Her heart dropped to her feet. Of course, their appearance, their manner. Yet this one hated her passionately, while the other... The other had become her first, and only friend.

"We are brothers," Tadion confirmed. "And we had a home, and a people, and there was darkness but we made do, and we held our own against the Shadow for a good time after the great war."

Kal wanted to speak but words refused to form, and despite herself was rapt with attention. She resisted the urge to step back when the elf came to stand before her.

"Do you know where my mother is now?"

Kal opened her mouth-

"Dead," he hissed. "Do you know where our king is?"

"What does this have to do with-"

"Dead," Tadion spoke over her. "Our people, massacred or else taken into slavery. I was to be wed, if you have any notion of its meaning. Need I tell you what happened to her?"

Kal gaped, still failing to understand where the elf was heading with this, though dread took hold when faced with the sheer truth of how much they had lost. How much he had lost.

"I found...," and there was a flicker of madness in his eyes as the elf raked them over Kal, "I found what was left of her at the base of the treetop dwelling of her parents. All of them, felled by your kind, under command of your master," Tadion continued, appearing angrier with each word, his eyes never leaving her. "All that remains of us now, is what you see before you."

"I have turned from that path, I serve no one but myself," Kal said swiftly. "And Legolas-"

"Dare not go on," the other snarled, all pretense abandoned. "This may work on my brother, for reasons which both disgust and appall me but do not presume to lay your wiles upon me," the elf threw.

"I owe you nothing, and hold no blame for your loss-," Kal attempted, her voice strained.

"Be silent!" Tadion growled. "Only remember this: I am watching you, and when you take the wrong turn, a wrong step, I will be there." He ceased for a moment, as if wanting a reaction from her, daring her to act. "And you will," he said triumphantly and with finality to a boiling Kal, whose fists were tightly clenched in an effort to not lash at him. "Your kind always does."

Eyes blazing more red than golden by now, Kal strove to maintain her bearing. She promised. She would not begin any brawl nor be drawn into a fight. She promised him.

Kal watched his sharp turn and retreat, all the while attempting to forget and bury the words the elf had spewed, whether by intent or no.

Little wonder he loathes me. Little wonder they all loathe me. And then...

A prince, Kal slumped down onto a boulder. A prince, of elves no less. Kal lowered her head, the wind blowing strands of hair out of her braid, unforgiving against her skin. Mother, father, people. Lost. All she had never known and never had to begin with. She inhaled the salty air, willing the murmurs of the sea to aid her writhing inner turmoil. But her chest felt frayed and raw, and somehow her eyes became misty and her vision blurred. Kal looked to her fists, repeatedly curling and uncurling her fingers.

"He has not told you..."

Whatever it was, Kal decided she would ask it of him. And then the realization crashed against her. It dispersed any and all chance of peace, ever accompanied by a dull, pulsing ache.

You have come to trust him.

And now you see he does not.


A/N: Thank you all for reading, I appreciate your time and attention.

Cricklewood16: Replying here in lieu of other possibilities - I love reading your reviews, and glad to hear you're enjoying the ride!