Restoration II: The Story Continues ...
by Fianna
Hugs to all who follow me, thank you so much.
Fianna
Chapter Seven
Esteri woke to darkness, a dull shadowed landscape to her elven eyes, still visible, but muted by the moon's grey shadows. She lifted her hands noting they were still tied, the hithlain tight but not uncomfortable, controlled by the half-elf by both magick and skill. She sighed, rolling her eyes at her predicament. She had failed herself, foremost, overtaken at times by the coiling sensation in the pit of her stomach whenever the half-elf came near, unable to difuse it or ignore it, leaving her a second late in decisions and actions, seconds he took clear advantage of.
She was not a bad warrior, had always felt confident in her abilities. Knew even now had she not been distracted she could have won her freedom. Yet still that feeling coiled within her, knowing he was near, that he had control made her heart beat a bit faster, made her sweat beneath the thin layers she wore of leather and linen.
Esteri sat up, grunting faintly at the effort. How long had he put her down? How far had they come? She rubbed her mouth with the back of her hand, eyes searching the shadows for Sweeney. He was not in sight, yet she knew he was not far. She could hear the river in the distance, noting then they had not gained the lake as yet. It gave her time to consider what to do. How to gain her freedom, even when a faint complaint in the back of her mind asked if she really wanted to.
She pushed away the thought, irritated that it was there. He was a bully, had forcefully detained her. That Thranduil had some hand in it had surfaced in her thoughts, pushed away and then reconsidered for it had been too easy for him to flee, no guards, no elves to detain him at all.
She cursed Thranduil, knew the King had motives even Sweeney would not know. What then did the Elven King want from them? Had he sent Sweeney on some mission? Or had he truly cast him out? She did not know or care, knew only both annoyed her.
Biting the rope did nothing, its magick powerful. Esteri sighed and rolled to her feet, balanced carefully as her head swam at the movement. Frowning she took a step and then staggered, dropping to her knees in surprise.
"You'll feel a bit woozy for awhile. A precaution in case you woke earlier than I expected and I was not back yet." Sweeney dropped a load of wood to the ground, crouched beside her to lift her chin with his fingers. "I can make it go away. Just ask."
"Get away from me!" Esteri jerked back from his touch, nearly falling as the world tilted alarmingly. She had never felt so unbalanced before, shocked at how it affected her.
Sweeney ignored her command, picking her up into his arms with an ease that made her heart flutter, his arms steel beneath and around her, his steps sure and graceful as any elf. He settled her on a rock, a hand to her shoulder to steady her for a moment.
Esteri jerked away, found again her head spinning and found his hand holding her upright once more.
"Just ask. It's an unpleasant feeling, I know."
"Why not just remove it?"
Sweeney crouched in front of her, blue eyes narrowed to hide his amusement, she was sure. "Because I want you to admit defeat and ask. I am in control. You will do as I ask, without complaint or I will leave you staggering as if drunk, nauseous with no hope of escape with feeling that way. Remove it and your head will clear and you can then consider your options."
"Like killing you?" Esteri snarled.
"One of many thoughts I am sure," Sweeney agreed with a smile.
He blurred into two then three and Esteri closed her eyes with a hiss. "Fine, take it away. I will do as you ask, until I escape and then I will slit you from top to bottom and throw you into the lake for the fishes to eat."
He laughed at her. "Is that the best you can do?" He gripped her chin and then leaned close, blue eyes startling in their clarity. "But to do so I must kiss you."
She nearly jerked away, but his fingers were strong, his other hand behind her head somehow, holding her fast. "I do not like bullies."
"No, nor do I. I would rather you come peacefully, I assure you. But that is not what we are discussing."
"Why must you kiss me?"
"Because, elleth, it's what I've wanted to do since I first met you." He leaned even closer, enough she could count his eyelashes, gilded silver by the moonlight. "But I want it a kiss I'd enjoy, rather one leaving me bloody. Your choice, mellon."
"Not much of a choice in my mind," Esteri breathed, unable to look away from the blue of his eyes.
"But a choice none-the-less," he countered. His lips curved slightly, his fingers tightened on the back of her neck, but he did not move forward, forcing her to engage him instead, to press her lips to his in what she meant to be a quick touch of lips.
The kiss did not end that way; his lips when they covered hers firm and then demanding, sending a flash of lightning through her nerves at the contact. She froze, unable to pull away, eyes wide and his closed, trapped and yet free to pull away, his fingers no longer on her chin, but dropped to his lap. Only the one hand remained behind her head, but even that did not deter, but held only a light touch, as if he was suddenly afraid to touch her.
Her head swam, unlike the previous nausea, it spiraled down into her body to the very center of her being, a tidal wave of want so surprising she could not move had she wanted to. And, she had to admit, she didn't want to. Had to admit the damned half-elf had touched her at the first sight, a feeling she had fought hard to ignore.
They broke apart, both breathing hard, eyes wide.
"I hate you."
Sweeney touched his lips, cocked an eyebrow. "I know. I'll work hard to change your mind."
Esteri twisted back out of his reach, rolled to sit as far from him as she could. "It'll never happen."
Sweeney only smiled and began to build a fire.
0o0
Rumil paced the flet, the small platform built high into a sturdy oak, not as high as he'd have liked, but these days, there were few choices. He glanced at the filtered leaves around him; light glanced off the pale green, a speckled brightness of color he noted yet did not admire.
He missed the pale golds of the Mallryn. Even knowing they were once more growing, fast too, yet not fast enough to be the sentinels of old, never fast enough to provide the grandeur the forest had once held.
He frowned. Felt an uncommon weight to his shoulders, felt a distance he did not like from the family he held dear. Orophin was physically distant, a faint murmur to his mind, his path to Mirkwood two-weeks gone already. Haldir was near, but in mind very far, his thoughts taken by his love, Rowen. Unlike Orophin, who had bonded with Tauriel and knew her mind as well as he knew his own, Haldir had not taken that step with Rowen.
Why was not Rumil's to know. But it did present an interesting note that Haldir was often distracted. But then, his mind was not set to guarding his forest as he once did. That role was Orophin's now, and in his brother's absence, Rumil's.
A choice he would have declined had he been able. Such weight was not pleasant, a heaviness to his shoulders and heart, a fear, had he admitted it, that he would not stand up to both of his brother's reputations, that he, Rumil, would founder and leave the Golden Wood, even as it was, vulnerable.
There were still threats, if diminished at this time. That there were far fewer elves to protect did not matter. The forest was still their home, and as wardens, his to take care of. He just didn't want to fail, to allow something to get past his notice. And as such, he paced, senses tuned to the different wardens in their posts.
Two held the north border, traveling a shortened boundary by necessity, with several under their command to aide them. Three were stationed on both west and southern areas, aided by the river. Three held the east, along with Rumil, gazes fixed the flowing meander of the Anduin. There were more dispersed here and there, each a fixed point in Rumil's mind, able to sound any alarm should one be raised.
Yet still he paced, fingers entwined behind his back, wondering if he had mocked Haldir too often for being so focused. Rumil did not like being in his brother's boots.
Sighing, he stopped. Shoved a hand to his hair to push the fine strands from his brow as they tickled him in the breeze. Wished only for a distraction to occupy his mind. A faint chirp drew up his gaze, eyes moving over the dappled canopy in search of the sound.
Movement in the trees below dropped his hand from his forehead to his bow, tucked over his left shoulder, quiver full of fletched arrows. He drew one carefully, nocked it to his bow and then to his cheek in one long slow movement.
The squirrel sat on the branch, tail jerking back and forth, scolding whatever had disturbed it below. Then it was gone, a flurry of fur and then nothing.
Rumil shifted his stance. Nearly dropped his bow at the sight below him.
The man looked up beneath a wealth of unruly brown hair, a cap of homespun fabric and fur entwined into what looked like a squirrel sitting on his head. Rumil blinked as the hat sat up and leaped from the man, a squirrel indeed, leaving him bare headed and scratching his brow.
"Come now, are you going to stand up there all day aiming that thing at me?"
"How do you come to be here?" Rumil replied softly. "I thought all the wizards had left Arda."
"Oh most are gone, I know." Radagast waved a hand airily. "But I don't want anything more than my forests. You know how nice they are. And my animals." He held out a hand and a small mouse emerged from his sleeve. "I've come to say hello is all. I've heard the demise of the Golden Wood and couldn't bear to see it. But I had to come at last to pay my respects to Haldir. He is still here, is he not?"
Rumil grinned and dropped his bow. "Aye, he still is here."
"And you, Rumil, March Warden now?"
"Blessed Valar, no, just temporary at the moment. Orophin has gained that rank, but he is off on a mission for um... Haldir."
Radagast tucked the mouse back into his sleeve, patting it carefully. "Oh wonderful. I expect you have tea up there?"
Rumil shook his head in amusement. "Not here, wizard, but not far. I will come down, give me a moment."
Once on the ground Rumil held out a hand. "Welcome to the Golden Wood, Wizard. How do you come to pass my guard?"
"Oh they knew I was there. I just made them forget."
"And why?" Rumil did not let go of the bow in his hand.
"Because what I need to say is for Haldir to know. And maybe you at his request. Shall we go?"
Rumil stepped back, studying the wizard in all his untidiness, the grip the man had on the staff. Bowed in respect. "Let us go then. It is but a day's walk to Haldir."
"A short time, lad, short time. But I do wish I had brought my rabbit sled. It moves so wonderfully through the forest, but I feared that would dismay you all the more, with the forest the way it is."
Rumil shook his head as the wizard continued to ramble on. A motion adjusted the elves behind him to cover the gap where he had stood, another wave of his hand sent two ahead to warn Haldir.
0o0
"How far are they?" Thranduil casually shifted in his chair, affecting an air of disinterest as the elf made his report, uncomfortably aware of the knot that had formed in his stomach at the news.
"They should arrive on the morrow, my lord. Since it is Orophin, they have passed the guardians without delay."
"As they should," Thranduil agreed. "Have things made ready. And how many in his group? And why they have come?"
"They are a small party, Orophin and Tauriel..."
Thranduil sat up. "Tauriel?"
The elf nodded, paused in his report, hand in the air. He swallowed and then shifted to attention. Thranduil waved for him to continue. "The half-elleth Rowen, another female elf, and four wardens as we could count."
Thranduil smiled at the admission there might be more Lorien elves. "Another female?"
"Aye, I do not know her. But someone said she is also from Lorien."
"I would expect since she is with Orophin. And his reason?"
The elf stiffened, lips tight for a moment. "He would not say."
Thranduil sniffed. "Be gone then. Send me word when they reach the city."
The elf bowed his head, touched his brow and then retreated.
Thranduil watched him leave, fingers to his chin, tapping in rhythm to his thoughts. Not Haldir, no of course not, the elf was now "Galadriel", and as such, would not leave the wood except for special or dire occasions. Orophin, as the new March Warden, was expected, Rowen the half-elf, as well as Haldir's new official emissary, although surprising seeing how close she was to Haldir. Thranduil speculated on that for a moment but then returned to the list of elves. Another female? And the requisite wardens for strength and defense. But why another elleth? He pondered the thought, dismissed the notion it might be Eria come to see him as absurd. She would not.
Or would she?
Thranduil bit his lip, glancing to see if any of his guards had noted it, stood and waved them off. They retreated silently, leaving him alone in his salon to pace.
Elves were few in Arda now. The chances of yet another unknown female turning up were slim. And why they would be returning to Mirkwood so soon after his retreat from Lorien was curious. Had something happened? There had been no concern relayed by Orophin, his pace leisurely, perhaps due to the female...
Again, the female elf.
"Ada?"
Thranduil stiffened, waited a long moment before turning toward Legolas. "I thought you left?"
Legolas cocked his head to the side. "I was headed out but heard that we have company."
Thranduil cursed under his breath. "Have you?"
"Aye, Orophin, and others. Odd, since you just left them. Did you forget something important?"
Thranduil sniffed and turned away. "No I did not. I do not know why they have come."
Legolas appeared beside him and sat in Thranduil's favorite chair. Tucked his feet on the desk and leaned back, hands folded over his chest. The elf was getting far too cocky, Thranduil thought irritably.
"Hmmm, no news is good news I expect. I decided to wait to hear why, might be needed, you know."
"Or you might just be nosy," Thranduil complained as he shoved Legolas's feet off of his desk. "I dare say you have become most annoying, Legolas."
"Is it me or someone else who has you on edge?"
Thranduil waved at Legolas to rise, his son doing so after a faint mocking smile. Thranduil sat down and pushed back the long sleeves of his robe from his arms, avoiding the intent stare of his son. "No one has me on edge, Legolas. I am sure they have good reason to be here. What it is remains to be seen. Perhaps Haldir has taken ill."
"They do not seem in a hurry according to the guardians," Legolas returned.
"Or they need something," Thranduil offered again with a weary hand. "It matters not to you, so please, do not detain yourself any longer."
"You seem to want me to be gone at all costs, Ada." Legolas leaned on the desk, his long blond hair draped over one shoulder, blue eyes so much like his mother's, unfailingly sharp. The elf saw too much, had seen too much. And knew Thranduil all too well. "Have you decided to dislike me?"
"No, Legolas, never that. I will always love you no matter what you do."
Legolas lifted a brow. "Ah, even after..."
"Let us not speak of the past." Thranduil stood up, brushed his sleeves back over his fingertips. "Perhaps you can gain insight into why they are here. Why don't you run off to meet them."
Legolas straightened. Brushed off the front of his tunic with a wave of his hand, eyes slanted toward Thranduil. "Are you sure?"
"You are bound and determined to know, so go on." Thranduil looked pointedly at his son. "Whatever the reason, you will find out eventually."
Legolas nodded, touched his brow with respect. "As you will, my lord."
Thranduil gave a short nod back and then turned around, hands folded behind his back.
Legolas coughed from the doorway. "And Ada?"
Thranduil looked over his shoulder irritably. "Aye?"
"I heard she was pretty."
0o0
