CHAPTER 36 - High hopes
Kal lifted her braid and coiled her hair atop her head, fastening it with a thin leather strap. It was a warm though gloomy day, and the waves of a lively sea crashed furiously against the isle, spraying the figures on its rocky shores with cold saltwater. Kal yelped as a stronger shower nearly tilted her balance amid the jagged rocks.
It was midday, and she had accompanied Arwen and a few other womenfolk on the task of oyster harvesting for the evening meal.
"What of this one?" Kal extended her palm to show the elf maid her fare.
Arwen peered at the oyster, nodding with a small smile. She was barefooted, a feat Kal admired considering the slippery, sharp rocky terrain and boulders they were wading through. She was garbed in a similar grey tunic and breeches to the ones Kal was presently wearing, fastened with a dark sash around her willowy waist.
Kal threw the oyster into the sieved metal container placed atop a higher boulder before stooping to resume her search.
Every so often she saw Arwen cease her work and linger staring out across the sea with a forlorn gaze.
"It is the same for you," Kal ventured, closing her eyes as more saltwater sprinkled her face. "The call of the sea."
Her words took Arwen out of her reverie, grey eyes resting on Kal. "The calling is there."
"But not the path," said Kal. "Legolas told me as much."
At the mention of his name, Arwen gave a small smile, and it seemed to Kal her face gained a different light. It was a rare sight. "I take it, you two have spoken."
Kal rubbed the back of her neck before bending to inspect another closed shell. Perhaps spoken would not be the most fitting term to define what had happened between them. She knew not how to describe it. Legolas had called it companionship, and...
Seeing confusion and vague unease written on her face, the elf maid turned to gaze towards the sea anew.
There was a soaring need then, to share more of herself, of them. A light sliver pulsing through her mind, an eagerness and openness which engulfed her, not unlike the peaceful song of the heavy dark waves crashing against them. More than anything, the being before her was someone dear to him, and belonging had become a sought-for goal. It weeded its way into her mind and spirit, steadily growing stronger roots. No matter the niggling fell voice, no matter the nightmares or disruption hailing from she knew not where. "He wants me to stay," Kal said, careful of her steps through the shallows. "And I would be fain to," she added with some unease, unsure of the way her words would be received. Kal apprehensively met the grey eyes she felt on her.
But on the other's face, she saw no expression of surprise, resent nor anything else for that matter. "I have seen little joy in him, in recent years." She had seen none. "And then yesterday, I saw my friend smiling," Arwen offered, the slight upward tilt of her lips still present. "You are good for him."
Golden eyes widened on her. "You... you know?"
"I sense," Arwen conceded. "Just as I sense you are not yet bound."
Kal raised an eyebrow at the little red crabs scuttling and roaming about the stones. She took one in her palm, regarding it suspiciously. "Bound?..."
And so the maid proceeded to tell her what it all meant. She spoke of togetherness, of customs followed afore time among their kind, building on the sparse details Kal already knew from Legolas.
Her eyebrows rose then fell, and some things, including his change in manner and the stirrings she felt within, were beginning to fall into place. Kal said nothing, marveling at the unusual ways of their kind, of a race she apparently partly belonged to. And the more she thought of him there came the need to see and hold him again. His recent words were a balm to her troubled mind, his tender touch a haven. But now her elf had disappeared within the smithy for much of the day, aiding Gimli the dwarf with needed repairs or building plans. They would meet again in the evening, but time had never trailed so slowly and slovenly.
"And you?..." Kal decided to bar her longing by focusing on the present. "Are you bound to any?"
She saw the elf stiffen, her dark eyebrows set in a slight frown. "I was- I am, pledged. But to one not of my race."
Naturally, Kal asked what and where he was, having seen none in the company of Arwen save for Legolas.
"Lost, at the Black Gate," came the soft words as the elf maid took the container, now reasonably full, and began an ascent followed by Kal.
An old hurt trickled its poison within, and vivid memories of the Gate and life beyond it darkened her mood. They had all lost someone. "During the war?" Kal wanted to know, her curiosity the winner.
Arwen nodded as the half-orc reached her side. "We know not whether he yet lives."
"We?" Kal blinked.
Arwen was silent for a time, and worry spread its suffocating tentacles, leeching on her insides.
"Legolas tries," the elf maid offered in the end. "He travels the perils of Ithilien still, hoping to gain insight, seeking for him. He yet believes Estel lives."
Estel. Kal froze. So this was the one. This elf's intended mate was the sole reason Legolas kept returning to the Black Land, the reason he so tirelessly sought a way inside. And as angry tides swelling against the shores of her mind, Kal remembered his words before he left to hunt the Uruk. Inquiring of her visions. Asking of the Tower. The elf had told her then, that what he had witnessed during their connection had been a place of his own nightmares. His words gained a different meaning. In the Tower...he... may be...
Dread choked, stilled. She never wanted to return. She never wanted him to return to that place of peril and death and torment. A great wall rose between her and peace, understanding dawning as to why he was so blindly determined. It was not for himself alone.
"And what do you believe?..." Kal dared ask, the hopeless tone Arwen had used not lost on her.
"I do not know anymore," was all she heard, and both fell into silence brooding on their own thoughts. Their group was to reach the narrow valley they would traverse towards one of the hidden passageways leading to the mountain dwelling.
A chain of cliff and rock rose high along the island, arrayed as though it were its rocky spine, and taller peaks loomed in the distance not far from them. Kal was aiding to carry their fare, and when it happened she nearly folded in on herself.
The same urge, nameless, formless. Voiceless. Beckoning, commanding her, both tempting and frightening in its incursion of her spirit. Kal ceased walking and swayed, her grip on the container weakening. She looked back towards the mountain chain, to unknown paths she had not yet traveled on the island. It was there. It should be there, somewhere. Kal had no notion of what it was, but the need to end this torment was so great she nearly sprang into a run towards the narrow crags.
"Kal." The lilt of a feminine voice amid her stupor. "Are you unwell?" Arwen repeated her question, seeing the other shaking, her gaze set behind them.
"What is there?" Kal asked, breathless, her voice hissed and broken as she pointed towards the mountain peaks.
Arwen turned her head to the rocky terrain. There was worry etched onto her features. "A grave and nothing more," was all she said, before her hands reached to steady Kal. "Let us go, can you proceed?"
Kal nodded, completely afire and overwhelmed with the scathing need to head northward, and seek, seek, seek.
The elf maid called to her again when she would not move. Remembering herself and smoothing escaped strands of black from her face, Kal followed with one last look towards the tall cliffs, the furious burst behind her ribs beating with anger, suspicion, and a newfound lust to take. None of it was hers. She would tell... she needed to...
But the insidious, veiled intent she felt was urging the opposite.
No, she would not speak of it. To anyone.
As evening descended on the world the denizens of the meager community gathered for the usual meal in the great hall. Kal was alone, having changed in her chamber after the day's work, her gaze now roaming across the enclosure. With a resigned sigh, Kal then concluded the one she sought was nowhere in sight. She thought of him then, craving his company more than she could say, and dreading the topic she suspected Legolas would eventually broach with her. Where are you?
"Here," Kal felt a hand on her shoulder, causing her to mellow instantly at the nearness of a now familiar warmth, so missed and dear. Kal slowly turned to face him, and gold melted into grey.
It all felt so right, that Kal did not even ask how the elf had answered her unspoken thought. There was a light in his eyes which diminished the day's dark thoughts, their shadows cowering under the brightness his presence nurtured.
"Elf," Kal greeted, wanting to throw herself at him, so strong was the need to feel him close. But she only watched him enraptured until Eron came between them, nudging at her with his nose. The wolf had been with Legolas for the entire day, and was eager to see her though surprisingly docile.
Wordlessly she was drawn into an embrace, and Kal sighed at the freshness and stillness washing over her.
"You were troubled today," the elf whispered into her hair.
Kal noticed a few gaping stares as folk passed by them but most averted their gaze swiftly, settling for exchanging meaningful looks.
"They gawk," Kal said into him, unsure whether the unwanted attention bothered or intrigued her.
"Let them," she was brought closer, and melting into him Kal again recalled his uncanny ways and ability to sense her. Worryingly, it appeared to work both ways, as the growing restlessness she now felt was not her own. Then resurfaced thoughts of the mountains, the Tower, and the urge, the covetous, unrelenting pull she had felt earlier. She had to get there somehow.
"Your leg?" Kal tried to dispel the notion, setting her mind into a blank.
"Better," was all she heard, and warm palms were cupping her face. Kal sighed and leaned ever nearer, drawn to his flame-
Someone cleared their throat.
His palms slid from her face and Kal felt their loss, cursing the interruption. They both turned to see a pale Tadion, slightly bent at the waist and leaning on a wooden staff for support.
He regarded his brother only briefly before his eyes strayed to Kal.
Overflowing with unease, Kal felt the pressure of a hand on her waist. She was prepared to see the usual resent flaring in ethereal green eyes, and the stiff dismissal she had seen before in the other elf.
But she was ill-prepared, as she saw neither, nor did she expect the words which followed.
"Would you at least attempt to keep to yourselves here?" Tadion said dryly, now eyeing a space they could all use. "I would like to keep my dinner down at least once in this past week thank you very much," and he proceeded towards one of the long tables, followed by Legolas and a wary Kal.
"Up and about already? I thought Arwen had sentenced you to bed rest for another week," Legolas said lightly in Westron as the elves took their seats, Kal being drawn to sit beside the fair-haired elf at the table.
Tadion waved a hand dismissively, reaching to smooth a few rebellious dark strands behind his ear. "Utter nonsense," he grumbled, surprisingly in Westron. "You try staring at a cave ceiling for so long a time."
"I came to see you every few hours," Legolas deadpanned.
A green-eyed scoff. "All the while being somewhere else entirely," Tadion said meaningfully, though there was a faded twinkle of never seen mischief in his gaze when his brother glared his way.
Kal pursed her lips, an unwieldy smile attempting to crack her facade. Her hand reached for the warm one she needed beneath the table. She felt a light grip, keeping her grounded.
Tadion held his gaze trained on his brother, as though unspoken decisions were being weighed between them.
Legolas then turned to Kal. "I will go fetch us supper," and he rose from the table. She gaped at him pleadingly but in the end, grudgingly released his hand, and ere long she was left alone. With Tadion. The scrapes and splinters in the wood before her proved a most intriguing sight, and she began the task of counting them as silence fell.
Long fingers were tapping, tapping, tapping until Kal could take no more and lifted her gaze. She was met with a smirk, not a scowl at least, but features bearing that same haughtiness she had come to know by now.
"What," she hissed, perhaps a little too harshly.
The smirk persisted, and Kal helplessly looked beyond his dark head of hair, hoping Legolas would return soon.
"Take good care of him, orcling."
Her eyes cut back to Tadion, dark brows furrowing together. She opened her mouth then closed it, eyes narrowing, unsure whether he was indeed being himself or under the influence of whatever Arwen had fed him.
Tadion leaned back against the wooden bench, breaking their gaze. "You seem to fare better than I," he said as an afterthought.
Then and there Kal wondered, just how much it took from him to say such. When their eyes met again Kal saw a bleak, honest smile.
Her own lips curled upward. "I intend to."
A/N:
Tolkien fic of the day:
'The golden and the black' by alystraea
Source: Silmarillion/The Lord of The Rings (crossover)
Blackunicorne: thank you so much for this rec, it is the sweetest, most original Glorfindel slow burn (and so much more) I have read to date. I only rec completed fics here, and I'm not even finished reading this one but it blew me away and I love it so much, I have to scream it from the treetops.