Surprise! I got in excellent days of writing on Monday and Tuesday. I can't believe how fast this chapter went together. Hopefully this groove continues through the week. Anyway, Enjoy Chapter 21 and as always thank you for reading, following, reviewing. Much love xoxo
Death. It was a concept Nat was all too familiar with. She lived with it, had made a career out of it, and still there were times when it shocked her system. She'd been surrounded by it her entire life. She would never be clear of the smell of rotten flesh, fresh blood, and the excrement left behind when the body died. War was never without its shortages of the dead and here the bodies had piled high. Blood dripped from stone in black and red, pooled on the ground and seeped into the soil with the rainwater that had attempted to wash it away. The earth's way of cleansing itself of the gross injustice of war. So many lay dead and while it pained her to do it; she meticulously sorted through them. They deserved to be gathered and honored for their sacrifice. They deserved better than the mass graves and burning piers they would receive and so she'd do her best to give them what little she could.
She checked for vitals and used her control panel as a light for retinal reactions. With waning hope, she waded through the bodies with the other men and healers. Only a lucky few were found alive. She pulled five elves and three men out from beneath stacks of bodies. Most with head trauma or concussions from the explosion had been knocked unconscious. The eight were worth the blood and back breaking labor. Those eight gave her hope when she continued to search.
Unsure of their customs she'd lined dozens of elves neatly on the causeway and carefully removed their cloaks and tucked them over and around their bodies. The men of Rohan she'd carried to the lower levels just inside the walls where the Uruk's had blown their gaping hole. Already they were building funeral pyres for their dead. What else was one to do with hundreds of dead bodies. Without care or ceremony, she heaved any Uruk she found over the wall where a few able bodied Rohir were piling their carcasses. They had already set them aflame. Their stench was nauseating to even the most seasoned warriors.
She worked, mindlessly hauling bodies, mindlessly sorting.
Her thoughts were jumbled. Her emotions even off kilter. Nat had never been as affected as she was now. Face after face of the dead would be ingrained in her memory and for once she didn't want to forget them. She studied their faces, their features, their armor and committed them vividly to memory. In her memory they could live on and that in itself was respect to their sacrifice.
She was glad no one had come to find her. Glad that Eowyn had stayed away, likely rejoicing with her brother and uncle that what was left of their small family was alive. Glad that Gimli had most likely regrouped with his companions. Even gladder was she that Wulfric had not come to find her. Her anger flared at the thought. He'd gotten to her. She'd made the mistake of trying to trust him with herself and her very basic secrets. She'd needed a person and he had been the only one around. She'd needed him to want to help her and had revealed more of herself to him than she should have in order to gain his trust. He had taken what she'd offered and instead of being honest with her in return, he'd fed her lies and half-truths. He'd known all along that the chances of her returning to her home world were slim to none. He had been banished here for hundreds of years. Had likely tried every method in the book to get off this planet, and there she'd been, on the plains of Rohan waiting for him to help her find her own way. He'd known the entire time that Gandalf would likely be able to do very little to aid in her predicament.
With a grunt she angrily heaved another Uruk over the wall.
Bastard. He'd lied straight to her face.
Her injured shoulder ached as she continued to abuse herself with more physical labor. The muscle had been pierced straight through. There would be no stitching it now. The puncture wound left after she'd taken the bolt was clean through. She rolled another body over the wall. The setting sun glared down at her; she glared right back and tried to reason with herself. She knew part of the reason she was so pissed off was because she would have done the exact same thing in his position. The other was because she'd missed judged him. A rare and costly mistake, but even she was not infallible.
She cursed and leaned against the wall in frustration.
Her body was tired but her mind and soul were still restless. Nat knew she needed to refocus herself and that if a full day of grueling labor hadn't set her mind straight another few hours wouldn't make any difference. She'd done her duty to the dead.
She dusted her black stained hands on her uniform and rested against the half wall. She rolled her neck and shoulders in an attempt to ease the tension in her strained muscles. A bath sounded like a fine thing right now. Her body needed a rest. She was physically as tight and tense as her mind.
She would have to ride to Isengard soon if the wizard proved to be a man of his word. It was high time she found him and held him to it.
With unhurried footsteps she made for the main hall. They'd made tremendous progress throughout the day. Nearly the entire inner wall had been cleared of debris and bodies as had the causeway. It would however be a long time before the stones of the Keep were rebuilt. The people and Helms Deep would be scared from this battle for a long time to come.
She could hear a great many voices as she approached the main hall. Those that weren't still working had gathered for their evening meal. As she came up the stairs a warm familiar scent wafted through the air. Her stomach growled in response. She couldn't help the grin that crawled up her lips at the thought of the stout whirlwind of a woman that was behind that delicious smell.
The hall was crowded with people. The tables had been put back into place and the bench seating rearranged. All signs of Haldir and his brother were gone. Her heart lurched in her chest, so much so, she reached up to rub out the ache.
No one paid her any mind as she walked into the hall unnoticed. She'd stripped out of the top of her uniform and tied her sleeves off around her waist hours ago. Left in her fitted black sports bra she had cleaned and wrapped the wound herself.
She easily spotted Legolas, his fair hair shining in the dim hall. Beside him Gimli was seated behind a bowl of stew and a mug of ale were eagerly being consumed. Gandalf stood beside Theoden, who sat in a stately highchair at the head of the room. They were speaking quite intensely from the looks of it. She however only had a nose for food and gracious that stew smelled delicious.
She'd nearly made it up to the great hearth where a behemoth of a cauldron half full of stew was simmering away when a booming feminine voice echoed through the hall.
"Bless my bottom! Miss Natalie!" Berta nearly tackled her into an embrace. Her small stature put her face squarely into Nat's chest. Glaring sharply up at her Berta's tone was lovingly scathing as she swatted Nat's uninjured arm. "I should string ya up by your toes lass!" She swatted her affectionately. Nat took the soft blow with growing amusement.
Nat could feel eyes on them as the attention of the people in the hall turned to them.
If she'd thought Berta had appeared disheveled previously this was a whole new look. From head to toe she was askew in every which direction. Her hair had flown out from under a crooked bonnet. Her apron was stained and offsides, one sleeve rolled the other down and to top it off her cheeks were flaming red. "What do ya think you're doin' runnin' off to war! Ya coulda died!" She swatted at her again. Berta's eyes were surprising full of tears, "Ya coulda been killed!"
Chuckling Nat grabbed Berta's wrist when she went to swat her again. "It's good to see you too Berta."
Dropping her wrist Nat patted Berta's cheek affectionately, "Now I would love nothing more than to have some of your famous stew."
Berta wiped at her reddened eyes a small bashful grin on her lips, "It's not that good, love." Berta surprisingly smoothly reached for an empty bowl from the stack by the hearth and ladled out a healthy portion. She gave Nat a side long look as she filled it as if examining her to make sure that she was indeed in one piece. With a small amount of pride Berta handed the steaming bowl to Nat. Gently she clasped her hands around Nat's as she took the bowl from her. Her eyes shifted, seemingly taking in the scene going on behind her. Her cheeks reddened even deeper. She had made them the center of attention and Nat was more than sure many pairs of eyes were now turned to them.
"You underestimate yourself far too much Berta." Nat sipped from the bowl, unwilling to turn around yet. She didn't want to look at them, the people. She already felt too raw and exposed as it was, the last thing she wanted was to acknowledge the curious eyes that were beading into her exposed back.
Looking painfully embarrassed Berta hissed out quietly, "Lass what exactly are ya wearin'?"
Nat looked down at herself and realized that this time her need for practicality had perhaps gone too far. Her skintight uniform was still on from the waist down but she'd unzipped the top portion and peeled her upper body out of it to treat her wound. To her it was nothing to be left in the lower half of the uniform with her working sports top on underneath but to these people she might as well have been naked.
"Why don't ya jus sit down and eat love." Berta ushered her to a table off to the side. With one sharp glare Berta sent it's residence to scatter down the table. Leaving Nat with plenty of space to eat in relative silence. Nat could have laughed at Berta quite literally mother henning her. Kindness was such a rare thing for her. Berta placed her hand on Nat's bare shoulder as she seated herself on the bench. "Eat up lass." She said patting her shoulder.
Nat covered Berta's hand with her own, her touch comforting, if only just a little. "Thank you, Berta…"
Berta paused and gave her a little squeeze as if to say 'you're welcome' without having to get out the words.
The heavy stew warmed her belly, comfort food was exactly what she needed. It only took her a few minutes to devour what was in the bowl. She was sopping up the remaining broth when she heard Gandalf's shuffling gait approaching her from behind.
"A hard earned and well-deserved meal." He addressed her quietly, "You've done much more than your share my lady."
She swallowed the last of her broth, "Everyone's good at something." War was her profession. Death was her gift and her friend. She was surrounded by it and immersed in it. It would seem even being transported to a different planet that she couldn't escape it.
Gandalf slid into the bench seat in front of her. His pipe was ablaze and the sweet smell of the tobacco wrapped around them.
"It's time I fulfill my promise to you." He spoke with confidence. She had done well holding up to their agreements. Nat had been absolutely fundamental in their victory today and if Gandalf had any hope of convincing her to stay with them, to fight for them, he would have to keep his word. It would be a dangerous thing to wave her so closely under Sauron's nose. He could only hope they wouldn't be walking into a trap.
She nodded in affirmation. Her intention had been to do just this to him before she'd been distracted by the stew. Her belly had won that argument.
"When do we leave?" She placed her bowl aside and wiped her mouth with her thumb and forefinger.
"First light tomorrow." He said confidentiality looking far down the tables where Legolas, Gimli, and Wulfric sat. She followed his gaze.
"I take it we aren't going alone are we?' she glared sharply at Wulfric and he raised a surprised brow at her. Her anger twisted in her gut. The lying sack of shit had the nerve to look confused.
"No, we most definitely are not." Gandalf took a big drag on his pipe and puffed out the smoke into large floating rings. She watched them float down the tables before catching a draft that drew them high to the ceiling.
She was finally going to get Eric back and while part of her prayed that he had been successful at destroying the scepter the other part of her was greatly distraught over the thought of her home being permanently inaccessible. What little family she had, would be gone ...forever. She would be forced to live here among these people. What would she do? Where would she stay? What kind of life would that be? She'd been untethered nearly her whole life. She'd never really had the chance to put down roots of her own. Her decisions had always been made for her. She'd been told where to stay, what to eat, what to wear and who to kill. Now when the choice was before her to potentially have whatever kind life she wanted; she had no idea what to do with herself.
Frustrated and done with her stew she stood from the table, "I'll see you in the morning wizard." She dismissed herself and left him to his smoking. She wanted that bath now. She'd seen the entrance to the bath houses when she'd first made her way down to the entrance of the caves. She just hoped with so many people crowding the hall that the bathing chambers would be rather empty. Nat made her way towards the exit, this time her travel was highly observed. The people spoke in hushed whispers around her. Little did they know she could actually understand them. Her enhanced hearing picked up everything. They were frightened of her, curious, and thankful that she'd done what she had for them. She didn't acknowledge them or their words. The only thing she wanted was to be out of here and on her way to a steaming hot bath.
"Nat!" Wulfric called out as she passed his table. She was in no mood to speak to him. Ignoring him was better for both their health. She quickened her steps and he called out for her again. She was nearly to the rear doors when he came upon her. He grabbed her arm and said her name again. Instantly she tugged free of his hold and like a crack of lightning struck him across the face. Her hand screamed at the contact but she'd definitely caught him off guard.
"Вы не имеете права прикасаться ко мне." She spit at him in Russian. Knowing that he could understand her through the Asgardian gift of All Speak.
Wulfric glared down at her, stunned by her blow but even more at her use of a language she knew he shouldn't be able to understand. She hadn't done it in a moment of passion. No, He could see it in her eyes. The intelligent spark over top the anger. She was in control. She'd done it with intention. She knew what he was. There was no other explanation. They'd all known she was clever but for her to have unearthed a secret he'd been keeping for centuries in just a matter of days nearly knocked him off his feet.
He opened his mouth to speak but couldn't find the words. The how's and whose and what's that circled them both were thick and complicated. Where would he even begin?
"Don't" she said to him and she meant it. She didn't want his sorry excuses or explanations. She didn't care why he'd lied to her. The entire time he'd known all along what her fate would be. No excuse of his would justify her losing everything. Her voice raised in anger, "You knew the entire time and said nothing."
"It isn't that simple…"
"It is that simple!" She hissed even though she knew it wasn't. They had yet again garnered the attention of the hall. Let them hear. She shoved a finger in his chest.
"You are just like him, you know that?" She wanted to beat him senseless. "I thought because you looked more like your uncle than your father that perhaps you'd inherited his sensibilities." She wanted to shove him or hurt him but she was so damn tired. Tired of all of this. The lies and secrets. Her body was running on empty and her mind was exhausted. Would it ever be over?
She registered the shock on his face. Good, she wanted him to sweat it. "My mistake" she gave him a flourishing mock bow, her temper simmering, "Your highness."
She turned on her heels but he was already moving to grab her again. Quick as a viper she latched onto him, flipped herself high and grabbed his neck with her thighs. The take down was quick and as he moved to recover she rotated and locked her legs around him. She wouldn't have him for long. Using the second of surprise she was still riding she did exactly what she'd been longing to do and punched him straight across the mouth with every ounce of anger and frustration she could muster.
She'd barely finished the strike when he landed his blow. With a mighty heft he sent her flying through the air. She slammed into one of the great beams and landed amidst the half-eaten dinners of the hall's occupants. With a laugh and a groan she rolled into her back. That one would leave a mark.
Rolling to her knees she faced him. He stood in the entryway, chest heaving and lip bleeding. She spit the blood that filled her mouth on the floor. Sliding from the table she stood on unsteady feet. That blow would have killed a human.
"I wasn't sure." Nat said as she limped toward him holding her side. "Not entirely anyway." Slowly and as unaggressive as possible she unsheathed the hunting knife they'd forged together weeks ago. "But it's good to know." She tossed the blade at his feet. The steel clattered loudly against the stone, no one dared to breathe. The hall was held in silent astonishment as she squared to him, toe to toe, "That even you can bleed."
The baths were steaming and cleared of people by the time she entered the caverns that housed them. Feeling beyond blessed for the privacy she stripped down. Tender and aching she slipped with a hiss into the hot depths of the pools. Sighing, she submerged herself fully and sank into the silence at the rocky bottom.
The fortress had been rustically hewn into the mountain, but cleverly placed, as was the Golden Hall. Both sat above naturally fed hot springs.
The heat from the water soaked into her aching muscles and tired joints. The aches and pains were soothing somehow. Not comforting but distracting. Welcome. Deserved. They helped settle her mind as she assessed the damage the past two days had taken on her. Cracked ribs, puncture wound to the upper arm, shallow cut to the thigh and bruises littered her body. She'd bitten the inside of her mouth when
Wulfric had thrown her. Her enhanced body had already slowed the bleeding, but she could still taste the copper tang of her own blood.
Weightlessly she let her body float to the surface and took a greedy breath of heated air.
"I was momentarily concerned you'd drown yourself." The voice was deep and warm. Despite the heat of the room gooseflesh rolled up her arms. Haldir.
"If only the world could be so lucky to be rid of me that simply." She responded looking to the sound of his voice but only found a wall of steam. She sank down onto her feet; the water covered her nearly to her shoulders. She dunked her head under again and cleared the hair from her eyes. To say she wasn't bothered by his presence would have been a lie. She was uncomfortably aware of him in a fashion she hadn't expected of herself. Nat, despite her steely heart, was attracted to him. However accustomed she was to being around men of numerous varieties her other experiences hadn't prepared her for the deep-rooted awareness that had taken over her. Now was not the time for such foolishness. She was dedicated to finding Eric, destroying the scepter and preventing Sauron from opening the galactic flood gate to this planet. Haldir, for his part, was a different species all together. He was a respected leader to his people. He had just lost his brother and would be grieving his loss. No... now was not the time for something as common as physical attraction.
"You wouldn't happen to have soap, would you?" She called from her end of the pool. "In my eagerness to be clean I seemed to have bypassed any and all supplies."
He gave a soft huff through his nose. That woman was a living breathing contradiction. He twisted the length of his hair, ringing the leftover water from it. Reaching to the edge of the pool he grabbed his remaining soap and tossed it in her direction. Despite her obvious tiredness she caught it, "Thanks." came her short reply.
He'd been enjoying the peace and quiet when she'd walked through the door to the baths. Haldir had watched her through the steam, captivated, as she'd removed her skintight uniform. Her injuries were more severe than she'd let on when last he'd seen her. Her smooth skin was littered with bruises. He should have turned away but couldn't bring himself to, giving into impulse he had continued to observe her. The more he watched the more it became obvious that she wasn't human, at least not entirely. Physically she appeared human with rounded ears and short stature, but her skin was too smooth and her physique too perfect. He'd finally turned away as she slid into the water. The little sigh of pleasure she'd loosed had made the fine hairs on his arms stand on end.
She seemed wholly unbothered by sharing the bath house with him. Nakedness was of little concern to elves but he knew humans could be significantly more prudish. Nat hadn't so much as blushed at being naked in the same room with a male.
Nat caught the bar of soap that had come sailing through the steam. It had a subtle herbal scent to it that was distinctly male. She had gotten just a hint of that scent when Haldir had pulled her from the wall. Delighted at the prospect of being clean she lathered her hands and got to scrubbing. Her aches and pains were slowly easing away in the heated water. Her body began to relax, only a few spots remained tense and required her to knead her own muscles. Her hair, matted with blood, proved to be a massive undertaking. Using her fingers, she scrubbed the soap deep into her scalp and worked the knots toward the ends. She cursed as she snagged a particularly large knot.
She heard a splash of water from the other side of the pool that told her Haldir had exited the water. Forcing herself to turn away from the sound she continued to work through her hair. He deserved his privacy but her mind had a very detailed imagination. The thought of all that smooth pale skin and defined muscle dripping wet and naked just feet from her stirred her blood. She swallowed hard, the scent of his soap plunged her deeper into the image. His footsteps padded toward her. If it hadn't been for the water puddled on the stone, she wouldn't have heard him walk at all. Despite his stature he was incredibly agile and light on his feet. The powers of the elves were varied and vast. His footfalls paused behind her on the stone ledge, her back to him. He tapped her on the shoulder with something. Swallowing she peaked up over her shoulder and instantly regretted it. Haldir held a small comb outstretched in his hand. His long hair was damp and loose over his shoulders. Clad in thin linen and given his dampness, the shape of him was clearly visible through it...and what a shape it was. The thin grin on his chiseled face told her that he knew exactly what she was thinking.
Wordlessly she took the comb, careful not to touch him.
"For what you have done for my people and my brother, I must thank you." His voice caught for only a moment at the mention of his brother. "Seldom would a mortal work as tirelessly and with such respect as you have this day." He stood to his full height noting that she hadn't corrected him on his use of mortal. She looked so incredibly small to him as she stood in the bathing pool. The fine lines of her shoulders just peaking over the water. How could such a small woman possess so much strength? Her eyes were ablaze with it even now. She had no idea how much he owed her. How much the people of Rohan owed her. Fearless little thing.
Speechless, Nat gave him a small acknowledging nod. She hadn't expected anyone to thank her. It wasn't something that usually happened to her when she had utilized her skill sets. She ran the comb through the tangle at the bottom of her hair. He made to leave and was nearly to the door when she finally found her voice. Haldir turned when she called his name. That face of his was one of a kind.
"For what it's worth...I'm sorry." His hand clenched on the door frame at her sincerity, his heart with it. Heavy with grief, he took a deep breath and left her to go back to what was left of his people.