****A/N: I'm posting Chap. 5 a little early. This is for Jocelyn and K
who have expressed some concern for Legolas ;) Reviews just encourage me!
Special thanks to AJ Matthews and Analorien or their continued support with
each chapter. (It means so much!!!) And thanks to EVERYONE who has posted
a review. Your comments make my day! Thanks for reading. ~Nebride****
****
Legolas slowly became aware of his surroundings. He was in a small circular room, with hewn walls of stone. Above him timbers arched gracefully up to what was probably a slate roof. Light shown in a window to his right, but it was the cold, blue light of a snowy day. A fire burned low in the hearth of a simple fireplace. A kettle steamed above the coals.
He lay in a soft bed, the feather mattress cradling him and warm blankets were pulled up to his chin. He recalled coming here… vaguely. He remembered the girl Alede, tending his wounds and telling him that Gimli was all right and that he, himself was safe. But he remembered little else.
He certainly didn't remember her climbing into bed with him. But there was no denying her presence. Her limbs were wound around his and he basked in the warmth of her body.
He turned his head to look at her more carefully. She was pretty in a sweet, country sort of way and fairly young. Her dark golden hair was pulled back in a long braid, but tendrils had escaped and curled about her face. Long lashes brushed her cheeks as she slept, but did not hide the dark shadows of fatigue beneath her eyes. Freckles spattered her nose and a smudge of soot marred her cheek.
Wanting to get up and explore this place he'd found himself in with out waking her, Legolas tried to roll away. But her head was lying on his hair and he found that just moving his arm was wearisome. It also awoke all sorts of aches, including a sharp pain in his chest and a greasy, stinging sensation on his skin.
It was then that he remembered the full horror of Orthanc's dungeon and a shudder passed through him.
So close… he'd come so close to loosing all that he was, all that he respected about himself. He closed his eyes, seeing once again the foul wizard leaning over him greedily. He'd wanted everything. He'd wanted Legolas' very soul. The pain had been almost immaterial compared with the greed and avarice of the wizard. It had sickened Legolas like nothing ever had.
He shuddered again. In the past he'd always detested Orcs, despised them as traitorous filth. They were the lowest, most disgusting of life forms. But beneath the hatred that all Elves felt for them was also fear. The foul creatures had once been Elves. And deep in every Elf's mind, was the fear that they too might suffer the same fate.
As his thoughts turned grim, the pain in his limbs increased along with a cold numbness. How easy it would be to give into the cold, into oblivion and think no more.
But a sound close to his ear suddenly brought him out of his misery. Beside him the girl laughed softly in her sleep. The sound mocked his pain and Legolas opened his eyes to see what could possibly be humorous.
Turning his head slightly, he saw that one strand of his hair tickled her chin, causing her to smile in her sleep. A thin shaft of sunlight pierced the clouds and fell through the window, shining on her face. As he watched, she awoke. She blinked groggily. The sunlight fell across her eyes, illuminating the brilliant green orbs.
Her eyes are the color of new leaves, he thought. He was reminded of springtime in Mirkwood, of sun on the trees and the new hope for the season ahead. Suddenly his spirits lifted as he gazed into those emerald depths and the shadows in his mind retreated.
"Good morning," he said softly.
It seemed to take her a full moment to realize that he was actually speaking to her.
"You're awake," she said a smile of joy and relief on her lips.
Another moment passed and she seemed to realize where she was. Hastily she tried to untangle herself from him.
"I'd assist you," Legolas offered. "But you're laying on my hair."
Blushing a deep scarlet, Alede finally stumbled from the bed. "My apologies," she stammered quickly pushing unruly hair from her face and snatching up her cloak.
Legolas couldn't help but be amused by her obvious embarrassment. Humans were far more prudish than Elves.
"Do not apologize lady. I am grateful for your warmth. I have felt cold for many days…" He broke off as once again his thoughts turned to the freezing malice of the dark wizard.
Alede rounded the bed and sat down beside him. Concern quickly replaced embarrassment as she took one of his hands. "Do not let your mind dwell on that place," she said, apparently seeing his thoughts written on his face. "Wait until you are stronger."
He looked up at her, wondering if he could ever gain back strength, so weary did his limbs feel.
"How do you feel?"
"Weaker than I have ever felt in my life."
She nodded. "That is to be expected, considering your wounds. And for two days your body went cold. I could not warm you. I…" she hesitated. "I assume that is not normal for your people? I confess I have not treated many elves. I do not know the ways of their healing."
Legolas' mind had wandered, thinking back to the cold, dark dungeon. He blinked at her question, "No, no that is not normal. How long was I… unconscious?"
"Two, no three days. I wonder," her brow furrowed in worry. "Perhaps I should not have destroyed that book. Sildair must have cursed you. If I had kept it, I might have found a cure sooner. I…"
Legolas heard no more of her words. In his mind he once again saw the wizard holding out the black book, shouting evil sounding words.
*Nuzka a' bleniz…*
A shudder passed through him. He could feel the warm bed around him, but cold invaded his thoughts, his very soul. He shivered again violently, trying to block the dark wizard's face from his mind.
*…kallumbul te wathu…*
He opened him mouth to cry out, but only a small sound escaped.
"Alede…"
Then suddenly she was there, her hands cupped on either side of his face and the evil words were drowned out by her voice.
"You are safe! Legolas! No dark magic can harm you here. You are safe!"
He vaguely felt her smear something on his upper lip and the scent of lavender filled his mind, breaking through the fog of cold.
"Noctien ala comfortia"
He didn't know the meaning of her words, but they were peacefully spoken and he calmed.
Alede passed her hand gently across his eyes, "Oltha," she said.
He knew that word… dream. And his consciousness drifted.
****
Alede looked down on Legolas with concern. Fortunately she'd had the sleeping oil in the room, though she hadn't had to use the spell on him before. At least he was sleeping normally. His twilight colored eyes were open but unfocused in the waking dreams that was the manner of Elves.
Holding his limp hand up to her cheek, she was relieved that he was still warm. She tucked his arm beneath the blankets again. It was obvious that Sildair had used a spell of some sort on him and her mention of the black book had triggered Legolas' memories. She was furious with Sildair. She had been a fool to let him live. But she had never slain anyone before, let alone one of her own people.
I suppose I may hope that he broke his neck when I flung him out of Orthanc, she thought bitterly.
Casting one more worried look at Legolas, she got up to tend the fire and to heat water to wash her hair.
****
When Legolas woke, his head felt clear again. The light drifting in the windows looked like late afternoon. Alede stood absently near the fire re- braiding her long hair. She turned when he stirred.
"Hello," she said crossing over to him and helping him to sit up.
He grimaced with pain.
"A broken rib," she explained as she plumped a pillow behind his back. "Move carefully. It will heal in time."
"You put a spell on me, didn't you, to make me sleep?"
"Yes, just a sleeping spell. Whatever spell Sildair placed on you has passed. But the memory of it has not." She tucked the blankets around him. "You'll need to guard your thoughts until you are stronger."
"If I get stronger," Legolas said with disgust.
"You will heal," she said with a confidence that comforted him. "I do not think dark magic will not fool you again so easily. You are safe and I will prepare safeguards for you."
"Safeguards?" he asked. "You must be a wizardess of great power if you can protect me against him and put me into a sleep when ever you choose."
"Well," she got up, a tiny smile of amusement on her face.
Legolas supposed he had sounded like a petulant child.
"I gave you the sleeping spell," she continued. "…to sooth your fears. I'm sorry if I offended you." When he shook his head she went on. "I am primarily a healer. My powers are mixed with green magic, which the White Council did not approve of."
"Green magic?" Did she mean the simple magic performed by village wise women, Legolas wondered.
"Some call it witch craft," she explained. "It is the art of incantations and the natural magic of plants and herbs. I use it in all my healing. The horse you saw was also green magic. But the wizards scorn it." She shrugged. "I'm afraid I'm not very skilled in any kind of magic. I know bits of this and that. I took Sildair mainly by surprise and I destroyed his book, what ever it was. Obviously its where most of his power came from."
Legolas leaned his head back against the headboard. "You are very brave then. For he would have killed you, if he'd had the chance. Who is he, anyway?"
A shadow passed over her fair face and she sat down again. "He was a student of Saruman's, as was I. We trained together at Orthanc. He, like myself were both born of wizards here in Middle Earth. My father is Radagast the Brown. I do not know who Sildair's father was. Thought I always suspected it was Saruman. It was not a subject that we spoke of. The Council did not speak of… personal things." She shrugged at her lack of knowledge. "We were friends once. But Sildair… he always desired power…" She trailed off unhappily and rose to tend the fire.
Legolas starred at the ceiling.
Power. That was the root of all problems of Middle Earth. Perhaps he had delayed his leaving too long. Should he head for the West and pass over as so many of his people had done? He would be safe in the Undying Lands.
But there was so much of Middle Earth that he wanted to see. And there was his promise to Gimli. His mind drifted as his gaze wandered around the small room. Finally the intricate pattern of the timbers overhead caught his curiosity, distracting him from thoughts of the West.
"What is this place?" he asked.
Alede brought him a cup of strong tea. "It was a ruined tower house when I discovered it. It is quite small, barely enough room for one family. But the walls are sound and there are raspberry brambles all around it. In the summer, the woods and meadows are filled with bees. The family who built this place probably made their living trading honey. And its design would have kept them safe from Orcs."
"The timbers of the ceiling are Elvish work and I see runes carved in them."
Alede nodded, "From Mirkwood, I imagine. We are within sight of it."
Legolas sat up further with difficulty. "We are? I would wish to see my home again, for it is long since I journeyed there."
Because he was looking out the window, he missed the expression of alarm on Alede's face.
***
Mirkwood.
Alede cringed at the very name. Her memories of that place were not fond. And she had not realized until just now who her guest was. Excusing herself, she went down the steps to the kitchen and busied herself there.
She had realized of course that Legolas was the same Elf who had been one of the nine companions of the Ring. But she had forgotten his origin, for Legolas was a common name among the Elves. Green leaf, it meant in the common tongue.
King Thranduil of Mirkwood had a young son by the name of Legolas and it was obviously the prince who rested in her upper chamber. His resemblance to the Queen was unmistakable, now that she looked for it.
Alede sighed and bowed her head over the loaf of bread she cut. It had been nearly three hundred years since she'd been to Mirkwood. Summoned there to tend the Queen as the lady lay near death, Alede had barely stepped into the room when the woman had died. King Thranduil had flown into a rage, blaming the young wizardess, despite the Queen's long illness. Alede had spent three miserable days in the dungeons hoping the King would relent. It had not been her fault. Thranduil had acted out of grief and desperation, not wisdom.
How much had Thranduil told his son, she wondered? Obviously Legolas did not recognize her name and she had not seen him there during her brief visit to the Queen's chambers. She certainly would have remembered his fair face.
She longed to ask Legolas if they had ever determined why his mother had died. Her illness had been a mystery. Elves did not die easily and never from illness. But she knew her memory of the dungeon would keep her silent. She had used magic to escape finally when she tired of waiting on the King's mercy. To this day she was considered an outlaw in the kingdom of Mirkwood. Perhaps it was better that Legolas did not connect her with that event, though she hated to deceive him.
Walking back up the steps, she brought Legolas a simple meal of bread and dried apples. After he was done and she took away the plate, she asked him if there was anything else she could get for him.
"Yes," he said rubbing a hand over his sticky arm. "A bath."
Alede hid her smile and went to fill the kettles. It had been long since she'd dwelt in the company of Elves. But she had not forgotten their fastidiousness. They were not like men, for which she was grateful.
****
****A/N: Looks like this is going to turn into a mushy romance, doesn't it? Don't be to sure! My writing sometimes has a twist to it. *winks and smiles* Look for Chap. 6 on Friday. ~Nebride****
****
Legolas slowly became aware of his surroundings. He was in a small circular room, with hewn walls of stone. Above him timbers arched gracefully up to what was probably a slate roof. Light shown in a window to his right, but it was the cold, blue light of a snowy day. A fire burned low in the hearth of a simple fireplace. A kettle steamed above the coals.
He lay in a soft bed, the feather mattress cradling him and warm blankets were pulled up to his chin. He recalled coming here… vaguely. He remembered the girl Alede, tending his wounds and telling him that Gimli was all right and that he, himself was safe. But he remembered little else.
He certainly didn't remember her climbing into bed with him. But there was no denying her presence. Her limbs were wound around his and he basked in the warmth of her body.
He turned his head to look at her more carefully. She was pretty in a sweet, country sort of way and fairly young. Her dark golden hair was pulled back in a long braid, but tendrils had escaped and curled about her face. Long lashes brushed her cheeks as she slept, but did not hide the dark shadows of fatigue beneath her eyes. Freckles spattered her nose and a smudge of soot marred her cheek.
Wanting to get up and explore this place he'd found himself in with out waking her, Legolas tried to roll away. But her head was lying on his hair and he found that just moving his arm was wearisome. It also awoke all sorts of aches, including a sharp pain in his chest and a greasy, stinging sensation on his skin.
It was then that he remembered the full horror of Orthanc's dungeon and a shudder passed through him.
So close… he'd come so close to loosing all that he was, all that he respected about himself. He closed his eyes, seeing once again the foul wizard leaning over him greedily. He'd wanted everything. He'd wanted Legolas' very soul. The pain had been almost immaterial compared with the greed and avarice of the wizard. It had sickened Legolas like nothing ever had.
He shuddered again. In the past he'd always detested Orcs, despised them as traitorous filth. They were the lowest, most disgusting of life forms. But beneath the hatred that all Elves felt for them was also fear. The foul creatures had once been Elves. And deep in every Elf's mind, was the fear that they too might suffer the same fate.
As his thoughts turned grim, the pain in his limbs increased along with a cold numbness. How easy it would be to give into the cold, into oblivion and think no more.
But a sound close to his ear suddenly brought him out of his misery. Beside him the girl laughed softly in her sleep. The sound mocked his pain and Legolas opened his eyes to see what could possibly be humorous.
Turning his head slightly, he saw that one strand of his hair tickled her chin, causing her to smile in her sleep. A thin shaft of sunlight pierced the clouds and fell through the window, shining on her face. As he watched, she awoke. She blinked groggily. The sunlight fell across her eyes, illuminating the brilliant green orbs.
Her eyes are the color of new leaves, he thought. He was reminded of springtime in Mirkwood, of sun on the trees and the new hope for the season ahead. Suddenly his spirits lifted as he gazed into those emerald depths and the shadows in his mind retreated.
"Good morning," he said softly.
It seemed to take her a full moment to realize that he was actually speaking to her.
"You're awake," she said a smile of joy and relief on her lips.
Another moment passed and she seemed to realize where she was. Hastily she tried to untangle herself from him.
"I'd assist you," Legolas offered. "But you're laying on my hair."
Blushing a deep scarlet, Alede finally stumbled from the bed. "My apologies," she stammered quickly pushing unruly hair from her face and snatching up her cloak.
Legolas couldn't help but be amused by her obvious embarrassment. Humans were far more prudish than Elves.
"Do not apologize lady. I am grateful for your warmth. I have felt cold for many days…" He broke off as once again his thoughts turned to the freezing malice of the dark wizard.
Alede rounded the bed and sat down beside him. Concern quickly replaced embarrassment as she took one of his hands. "Do not let your mind dwell on that place," she said, apparently seeing his thoughts written on his face. "Wait until you are stronger."
He looked up at her, wondering if he could ever gain back strength, so weary did his limbs feel.
"How do you feel?"
"Weaker than I have ever felt in my life."
She nodded. "That is to be expected, considering your wounds. And for two days your body went cold. I could not warm you. I…" she hesitated. "I assume that is not normal for your people? I confess I have not treated many elves. I do not know the ways of their healing."
Legolas' mind had wandered, thinking back to the cold, dark dungeon. He blinked at her question, "No, no that is not normal. How long was I… unconscious?"
"Two, no three days. I wonder," her brow furrowed in worry. "Perhaps I should not have destroyed that book. Sildair must have cursed you. If I had kept it, I might have found a cure sooner. I…"
Legolas heard no more of her words. In his mind he once again saw the wizard holding out the black book, shouting evil sounding words.
*Nuzka a' bleniz…*
A shudder passed through him. He could feel the warm bed around him, but cold invaded his thoughts, his very soul. He shivered again violently, trying to block the dark wizard's face from his mind.
*…kallumbul te wathu…*
He opened him mouth to cry out, but only a small sound escaped.
"Alede…"
Then suddenly she was there, her hands cupped on either side of his face and the evil words were drowned out by her voice.
"You are safe! Legolas! No dark magic can harm you here. You are safe!"
He vaguely felt her smear something on his upper lip and the scent of lavender filled his mind, breaking through the fog of cold.
"Noctien ala comfortia"
He didn't know the meaning of her words, but they were peacefully spoken and he calmed.
Alede passed her hand gently across his eyes, "Oltha," she said.
He knew that word… dream. And his consciousness drifted.
****
Alede looked down on Legolas with concern. Fortunately she'd had the sleeping oil in the room, though she hadn't had to use the spell on him before. At least he was sleeping normally. His twilight colored eyes were open but unfocused in the waking dreams that was the manner of Elves.
Holding his limp hand up to her cheek, she was relieved that he was still warm. She tucked his arm beneath the blankets again. It was obvious that Sildair had used a spell of some sort on him and her mention of the black book had triggered Legolas' memories. She was furious with Sildair. She had been a fool to let him live. But she had never slain anyone before, let alone one of her own people.
I suppose I may hope that he broke his neck when I flung him out of Orthanc, she thought bitterly.
Casting one more worried look at Legolas, she got up to tend the fire and to heat water to wash her hair.
****
When Legolas woke, his head felt clear again. The light drifting in the windows looked like late afternoon. Alede stood absently near the fire re- braiding her long hair. She turned when he stirred.
"Hello," she said crossing over to him and helping him to sit up.
He grimaced with pain.
"A broken rib," she explained as she plumped a pillow behind his back. "Move carefully. It will heal in time."
"You put a spell on me, didn't you, to make me sleep?"
"Yes, just a sleeping spell. Whatever spell Sildair placed on you has passed. But the memory of it has not." She tucked the blankets around him. "You'll need to guard your thoughts until you are stronger."
"If I get stronger," Legolas said with disgust.
"You will heal," she said with a confidence that comforted him. "I do not think dark magic will not fool you again so easily. You are safe and I will prepare safeguards for you."
"Safeguards?" he asked. "You must be a wizardess of great power if you can protect me against him and put me into a sleep when ever you choose."
"Well," she got up, a tiny smile of amusement on her face.
Legolas supposed he had sounded like a petulant child.
"I gave you the sleeping spell," she continued. "…to sooth your fears. I'm sorry if I offended you." When he shook his head she went on. "I am primarily a healer. My powers are mixed with green magic, which the White Council did not approve of."
"Green magic?" Did she mean the simple magic performed by village wise women, Legolas wondered.
"Some call it witch craft," she explained. "It is the art of incantations and the natural magic of plants and herbs. I use it in all my healing. The horse you saw was also green magic. But the wizards scorn it." She shrugged. "I'm afraid I'm not very skilled in any kind of magic. I know bits of this and that. I took Sildair mainly by surprise and I destroyed his book, what ever it was. Obviously its where most of his power came from."
Legolas leaned his head back against the headboard. "You are very brave then. For he would have killed you, if he'd had the chance. Who is he, anyway?"
A shadow passed over her fair face and she sat down again. "He was a student of Saruman's, as was I. We trained together at Orthanc. He, like myself were both born of wizards here in Middle Earth. My father is Radagast the Brown. I do not know who Sildair's father was. Thought I always suspected it was Saruman. It was not a subject that we spoke of. The Council did not speak of… personal things." She shrugged at her lack of knowledge. "We were friends once. But Sildair… he always desired power…" She trailed off unhappily and rose to tend the fire.
Legolas starred at the ceiling.
Power. That was the root of all problems of Middle Earth. Perhaps he had delayed his leaving too long. Should he head for the West and pass over as so many of his people had done? He would be safe in the Undying Lands.
But there was so much of Middle Earth that he wanted to see. And there was his promise to Gimli. His mind drifted as his gaze wandered around the small room. Finally the intricate pattern of the timbers overhead caught his curiosity, distracting him from thoughts of the West.
"What is this place?" he asked.
Alede brought him a cup of strong tea. "It was a ruined tower house when I discovered it. It is quite small, barely enough room for one family. But the walls are sound and there are raspberry brambles all around it. In the summer, the woods and meadows are filled with bees. The family who built this place probably made their living trading honey. And its design would have kept them safe from Orcs."
"The timbers of the ceiling are Elvish work and I see runes carved in them."
Alede nodded, "From Mirkwood, I imagine. We are within sight of it."
Legolas sat up further with difficulty. "We are? I would wish to see my home again, for it is long since I journeyed there."
Because he was looking out the window, he missed the expression of alarm on Alede's face.
***
Mirkwood.
Alede cringed at the very name. Her memories of that place were not fond. And she had not realized until just now who her guest was. Excusing herself, she went down the steps to the kitchen and busied herself there.
She had realized of course that Legolas was the same Elf who had been one of the nine companions of the Ring. But she had forgotten his origin, for Legolas was a common name among the Elves. Green leaf, it meant in the common tongue.
King Thranduil of Mirkwood had a young son by the name of Legolas and it was obviously the prince who rested in her upper chamber. His resemblance to the Queen was unmistakable, now that she looked for it.
Alede sighed and bowed her head over the loaf of bread she cut. It had been nearly three hundred years since she'd been to Mirkwood. Summoned there to tend the Queen as the lady lay near death, Alede had barely stepped into the room when the woman had died. King Thranduil had flown into a rage, blaming the young wizardess, despite the Queen's long illness. Alede had spent three miserable days in the dungeons hoping the King would relent. It had not been her fault. Thranduil had acted out of grief and desperation, not wisdom.
How much had Thranduil told his son, she wondered? Obviously Legolas did not recognize her name and she had not seen him there during her brief visit to the Queen's chambers. She certainly would have remembered his fair face.
She longed to ask Legolas if they had ever determined why his mother had died. Her illness had been a mystery. Elves did not die easily and never from illness. But she knew her memory of the dungeon would keep her silent. She had used magic to escape finally when she tired of waiting on the King's mercy. To this day she was considered an outlaw in the kingdom of Mirkwood. Perhaps it was better that Legolas did not connect her with that event, though she hated to deceive him.
Walking back up the steps, she brought Legolas a simple meal of bread and dried apples. After he was done and she took away the plate, she asked him if there was anything else she could get for him.
"Yes," he said rubbing a hand over his sticky arm. "A bath."
Alede hid her smile and went to fill the kettles. It had been long since she'd dwelt in the company of Elves. But she had not forgotten their fastidiousness. They were not like men, for which she was grateful.
****
****A/N: Looks like this is going to turn into a mushy romance, doesn't it? Don't be to sure! My writing sometimes has a twist to it. *winks and smiles* Look for Chap. 6 on Friday. ~Nebride****