"You'll never hit anything holding the bow like that."
Alede gasped. The arrow slipped from her fingers and clattered to the rocky ground. The rabbit she had so carefully stalked went bounding away.
"You startled me," she said as she whirled around, though she already knew who it was.
Legolas arched a fine brow at her. "Did I?" but his lips curled in a smile of quiet amusement.
She frowned at him in mock anger. "You find it amusing that you can startle me, don't you?"
He grinned at her and she couldn't help but smile back at him. In the last several days Legolas had rapidly regained his strength. His limp was improving and he'd succeeded in making it down the steps alone two days ago.
"You've frightened our dinner away," she said picking up the arrow.
"You never would have hit it anyway," he retorted easily. His sense of humor was wry, sometimes very subtle and sometimes very direct. Alede found it irresistible though it was often as not at her own expense.
The weather had turned fine, the late autumn sun melting most of the snow. Legolas stood in a clearing, the breeze lifting his hair off of his shoulder. He was dressed again in his own clothes, which she'd mended carefully. She couldn't help but think how regal he looked. Though even in her father's cast offs he'd had that Elvish air of sophistication, which seemed inherent to the race.
Standing straight and tall amongst the aspens, he looked as much a part of the mountains as the trees did. His face was tilted up as he drank in the sun. He dropped his gaze and Alede blushed as he caught her starring at him.
She'd been doing a lot of that lately. Even more embarrassing was the knowledge that Legolas knew why she watched him, though nothing had been said. But while he clearly liked her, it was also clear that he did not return her attraction. And her attraction to him was threatening to drive her mad. He was one of the kindest, most engaging people she'd ever known. That and his astonishingly fair face and mischievous sense of humor were more than she could resist. In the past several days she'd come to care for him far more than she would like.
"Here," he said reaching out a hand. "Hand me the bow and let me try and redeem myself."
Alede cocked her head at his impish grin. "I will not let you go traipsing about the woods, if that's what you're thinking. Your leg is not yet healed enough. Another meal of dried meats will not harm either of us."
Legolas rolled his eyes dramatically. "That is a matter of opinion."
"Oh!" Alede swatted his arm, which only made him grin more.
"I had not intended however to propose a hunt. I thought to show you the proper way to draw a bow."
"Oh, well… thank you," she stammered. "I did learn once. But it has been many years, centuries actually and I suppose I have forgotten the way of it."
"Who taught you?" he asked checking the string.
"Elrond's son Elrohir."
"Indeed?" Legolas walked to the edge of the clearing so they would have more room.
Alede followed him. "When I was very young, a girl of only sixteen my father took me on a pilgrimage to Rivendell. I had shown great interest in the healing arts even then and he asked Lord Elrond to teach me his craft.
"While I was there…" she paused gathering her courage to tell him the rest, since he would undoubtedly find it an ironic tale. "I became quite smitten with Elrohir…" she broke off as Legolas chuckled softly.
"And how did you come by your choice? Elrohir and Elledan are twins. Even to my eye they are barely distinguishable. How did Elrohir win your affections?"
"Well," Alede sat down on a log and watched as Legolas casually examined her arrows, though obviously he was intent upon her story as well. "Elrohir was the merrier of the two and as a young girl I could not appreciate Elledan's gravity. Of course Elrohir was aware of my feelings," she cast a surreptitious glance at Legolas.
Damn Elves and their perceptive abilities, she thought but without rancor.
"He took great delight in teasing me and making me laugh," she continued. "He was also very kind… for of course he did not return my affection." She looked down at her hands, unable to continue. The past situation too closely mirrored the present. She was unaware of Legolas' approach until he stood directly in front of her.
"And who would not be kind to you, Alede?" he asked gently tilting her chin up. "For you have the sweetest of dispositions and no one could help but be flattered by the generosity of your affections."
Alede smiled bravely at him, though tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She had known he did not feel for her what she did. But it was difficult hearing the pity in his voice and knowing that her situation was hopeless. Her emotions were not trivial as they had been when she was a child. Standing up, she brushed the dust from the back of her leggings.
"So," she began, clearing her throat and gesturing toward the bow. "Are you going to correct my faulty stance or not?"
"Alede…"
She looked up at him, seeing the regret and the sorrow in his eyes.
"If I could return what you offer, you know that I would, don't you?"
She dropped her gaze and the tears began to flow despite her effort to hold them back. Legolas made a sound of dismay and tossed the bow to the ground. Taking a step forward he enfolded Alede in his embrace, holding her close as she sobbed against his chest.
***
Legolas sat at the trestle table and watched as Alede prepared their evening meal. There had been no archery lesson after all that afternoon. Once Alede had regained her composure, she had pulled away from him and made for the tower house. He'd followed her an hour later after shooting too squirrels. They were not his favorite meat, but he felt he owed her something.
Actually, he thought, I owe her much. She'd saved more than just his life. She'd saved his sanity. Just as she had predicted, the demons of his memory had haunted him most when he was immobile. But Alede had countered his fears with logic, his melancholy with comfort, and the one fit of temper he'd shown with bland indifference.
Two days ago, overcome by frustration he had hopelessly expressed his desire to be done with Middle Earth and pass over into the West. She had knelt in front of him and fixed him with her vivid green eyes.
"This fear will be with you a long time," she had said. "You can either live with it here or you can live with it in the West. But the damage done to your spirit will follow you to the West if you run from it. If instead you choose to fight it, then you may do so with the knowledge that some day you may exact revenge for what was done to you. Therefore bringing some measure of healing to yourself."
Then she'd told him that she'd prepared a place for him in the sun if he felt strong enough to go outside. She'd left him to limp down the stairs by himself. His feeling of achievement as he'd joined her on a blanket outside the door, surprised him.
Which no doubt had been her plan all along. And realizing that, he'd given in. It would be far simpler to let his mind and his body heal, than to face her persistent will. She would calmly argue with him for eternity before she'd let him sink into melancholy.
His limp had improved dramatically since that conversation.
Watching her now as she cut up tubers to put into the stew, he couldn't help feel guilty. There seemed no way he could repay her or comfort her.
Women often admired him, though he seldom noticed, until it was pointed out to him. He was considered fair even among his own people, but gave little thought to the matter. Now it gave him considerable worry, for he wished not to hurt her.
Had he made a mistake, he wondered?
That first night after he'd begun to mend, he'd awoken from a nightmare to find her curled on the floor in a blanket. He'd coaxed her into bed with him despite her obvious shyness. Had she misinterpreted his gesture? He didn't think so. It would have been foolish for her to sleep on the cold floor. She certainly would have become ill. And their friendly pillow fights and banter had been nothing more than that, just friendly.
He didn't think he'd led her to believe anything else. She was simple taken with him, as she had been Elrohir. Except that she was no longer a girl of sixteen, but a woman with feelings far more complicated than those of a child.
He sighed softly, wishing he knew how to handle her affection. She was an engaging mixture of strength and sweetness, womanly grace and childish playfulness. She alternated between an authoritative confidence when tending his wounds and a maidenly shyness when confronted by his gratitude. If he were looking for romance and considered someone outside his own people, she would tempt him. She had a lovely face. And her habit of wearing men's clothing beneath her wizard's robes had caught his attention more than once. She had a lithe, shapely body that any Elf would notice.
But he was not yet ready to take any lady for his own. Despite Alede's engaging attributes, he was not in love with her.
Now that he'd set his mind on healing, he was more determined than ever to finish his exploration of Middle Earth. He and Gimli still had much to discover as well as much work to be done. Both of them had brought their own people to Gondor to help with its restoration and Legolas was eager to return to his work at Ithilien.
But that did not solve the problem of Alede's heart.
****
Alede finished cutting the late harvest vegetable and dumped them into the pot. Carrying it to the oven, she placed it on its crane and retrieved the tiny caldron she'd had heating on the hearth for the past two days. She set it on the trestle and glanced at Legolas' face.
"Such a grave expression. Does my cooking frighten you so much?" she teased.
Legolas glanced up and gave her a wry smile, shaking his head. "No, I…" his face turned serious once more. "I think that I must leave in a few days, Alede."
Alede's heart froze, though she'd been expecting this. Emptiness filled her, threatening to choke her. She loved him, of that she was certain. Just as certain that she could not have him.
"Alede," Legolas began, his voice thick with regret. "If I stay I will hurt you and if I leave I will hurt you. I know not what to do."
She met his gaze and saw the regret, the guilt there. She also saw a glisten that might be a tear. He dropped his eyes for a moment.
Leaning across the table, she cupped the side of his face, coaxing him look up at her. "No," she said more forcefully than she felt. "I would not have you know regret because of me. You did not ask…" she was still uncomfortable speaking of her feelings, though their conversation this afternoon had erased all doubts about his knowledge of them.
"You did not ask," she said again. "…for my affection. I certainly would not force it on you. Do not feel sorrow or guilt because of me. My… admiration is freely given. I ask nothing in return."
Legolas took her hand, squeezing it momentarily. "You are a beautiful woman Alede. Your soul shines as brightly as the sun and I would not hurt you for anything if I knew how." He kissed the back of her hand before releasing it.
Alede bit her lip to still the tears. Unconsciously she brought her hand close, cradling it in the other, protecting the warmth of his kiss upon her skin. The gesture did not go unnoticed by Legolas and he winched.
Alede saw the look and forced herself to regain her composure.
"When will you leave?" she asked as calmly as she could.
"A couple of days I think."
She nodded and fetched a box down from a shelf, setting it beside the gently steaming caldron on the table.
"Gimli will be pleased to see you," she remarked, though her voice cracked.
Legolas nodded. "I believe he will."
Alede had sent a raven carrying a message for the Dwarf once Legolas had begun to mend. There had been two messages from the Dwarf in reply already.
"Well," she swallowed the lump in her throat. "It is best that I get this finished then." She removed the lid of the tiny cauldron and stepped back as a noxious vapor escaped it.
Coughing slightly and waving a hand to disperse the greenish cloud, Legolas asked, "What is this? Not dinner I hope."
Alede laughed in spite of her aching heart. "No, this is to make a talisman. I promised I would give you a safeguard before you left."
Legolas wrinkled his nose. "Does all magic smell so foul?"
Alede glanced up at the pained expression on his face. He never failed to lift her spirits with his dry humor. "Much of it does, particularly green magic."
"The powder that Sildair used on me…" He broke off, but Alede understood the unspoken question.
"Necromancer's powder is made from dragon eggs. I know not how, for I have not studied its art. Obviously Sildair did, or he found a supply of it in Orthanc still. It is alchemy not green magic. Green magic does not harm."
Legolas nodded. They had tread very carefully on the subjects of his imprisonment. But Alede saw no warning signs in his eyes. He was coming to terms with it well, especially since his body began to heal.
"What is that?" he asked as she pulled out three shining strands of hair from her box of charms and supplies.
"Unicorn hair," she said handing it to him and watched as he ran the silky strands through his fingers.
"It is exquisite," he exclaimed. "Will it be part of the talisman?"
"In a way." She leaned across the table and arranged the strands in his fingers, so he held all three by one end. "This will be the cord that the talisman will hang by. I would put nothing less worthy around your neck."
Legolas glanced down at the shimmering strands in his hand to the scanty supply in her box and started to shake his head. "I would not take something so valuable…"
Alede gave him a mock glare. "Do not argue with me, or I'll send you back to bed!"
Legolas rolled his eyes. "You could try," he said, emphasizing the last word.
"Now quit fidgeting and hold this still," she directed. Swiftly, she braided the three strands of unicorn hair together to form a strong, light cord. Then as Legolas held the ends, she fished out a tiny green bottle from her box. Tying the ends neatly around the neck, she leaned forward and slipped it over Legolas' head.
"There, is that the right length do you think?" she asked.
Legolas looked down. The bottle hung in the middle of his chest, just high enough that his quiver straps would not crush it. The bottle was barely the size of his thumb and very flat. "This will do well," he said. "Though I know not how you will put anything inside it. It is so small. Will this noxious brew go into it?"
"No," Alede assured him as he handed the bottle back. "The potion will only transform the magic. I would not make you wear something so offensive."
"I am relieved." And they both laughed at the tone in his voice.
Alede got up and retrieved several bundles of herbs hanging from a rack, going over in her mind all that she would need. Rosemary and rowan to protect against sorcery, marigold for proof against older magic, lavender for purity and osier to bind the spell. The blood she'd add at the end.
Taking out a small knife, she stabbed it into the table and scratched a circle on its surface. Then she carefully cut three small twigs of each of the herbs and arranged them in a clump inside the circle. Handing the knife to Legolas, she said, "I need six strands of your hair, as long as you can cut them."
His eyebrows went up, but he obliged and handed them over. Alede took them, separating three of them out and placing the other three inside her box. "In case I need to make you a second talisman," she said in answer to his inquisitive glance.
Actually she wanted them to remember him by and for no other reason. But she need not tell him that.
She cut three strands of her own hair and then bound them all together around the little bundle of herbs, murmuring the incantation as she wove them in and out. She tied it off with the osier and then dropped the whole thing into the caldron. The fluid sent up a rush of steam and bubbled and frothed vigorously. Once it calmed down to a gentle greenish simmer, Alede held her hand out across the table and pushed the knife toward him.
Legolas looked puzzled.
"I need you to make a cut across my palm."
"What? No, Alede I can't…"
"Hurry, before it loses its potency."
Legolas looked as if he might protest further but finally took the knife. Alede nodded encouragingly as he hesitated. Grimacing he slid the blade across her hand.
Alede flinched in spite of herself. The wound hurt more than it should and she reminded herself to sharpen the blade once she had time for it. Holding her hand over the caldron, she let three drops fall into it. The liquid stilled and went black as night.
"It is almost finished," she said.
Legolas' brow was still furrowed with disapproval as he got up from the table. He limped over to the cabinet and came back with the jar of yarrow and marigold and a strip of cloth. In the few days that he'd been able to come downstairs he'd learned the whereabouts of most of her possessions. Taking Alede's still bleeding hand, he smeared it liberally with the ointment and bound it. She smiled her thanks and then with the fire tongs carefully pulled out the herb bundle from the caldron.
Legolas' gasp of surprise made her smile. The bundle had shrunk perfectly, barely the width of a blade of grass. She easily slipped it into the tiny green bottle and corked it tightly.
Handing it over to him she said, "This will protect you against most kinds of magic. The spell contains proofs against both sorcery and older types of magic. It also binds my powers to you. If I should die, it will lose some of its potency, though not all."
Legolas' eyes came up to meet hers at those words. Looking at her gravely, he put the silky braid of unicorn hair over his head and slipped the bottle inside his tunic. "You have my thanks, Lady."
Before he could say more, if indeed he intended to say more, Alede rose swiftly and went to tend the stew.
"I think this is ready," she called from across the room. Legolas watched her gravely for a moment before limping over to gather plates and spoons.
****
Legolas lay starring at the flickering shadows on the ceiling. He could not sleep. He was painfully aware of the talisman lying lightly on his chest. It gave him no discomfort other than a brief tingling sensation when he'd first put it on. Then it had warmed and lay softly against his chest.
But it was not the talisman itself that kept him awake, rather Alede's words. 'It binds my powers to you. If I should die, it will loose some of its potency,' she had said.
Her tone haunted his mind over and over again. She was using her own strength, her own powers to protect him. Once again, he found himself in her debt. While she might claim that she asked nothing for her love, he still felt remorse.
Would that I could love her, he thought! She is fair and sweet! But he could not force feelings that he did not have. And it would be a disservice to her if he did. Sighing, he rolled onto his side and looked at her.
She lay with her back to him, hugging the edge of the mattress. She'd always kept carefully to her side of the bed. Since she seemed so shy about sleeping together, Legolas had always been careful to never touch her. But tonight, he needed to touch her, as if her body would assuage his guilt.
Reaching for her, he pulled her close, tucking her small body into the curl of his own. She murmured softly but did not wake. Making the talisman had appeared to have drained her and she slept hard. Legolas nestled his face into the silken mass of her hair and breathed in the scent of her lavender soap. The sound of her soft breathing finally lulled him to sleep.
****
A/N: As always the reviews are much appreciated! I have a favor to ask however… would you mind letting me know which day of the week you're most likely to visit fanfiction.net? I'd like to try and post on the best day for most people. Thanks a lot and thanks for reading!!! :) Nebride
Alede gasped. The arrow slipped from her fingers and clattered to the rocky ground. The rabbit she had so carefully stalked went bounding away.
"You startled me," she said as she whirled around, though she already knew who it was.
Legolas arched a fine brow at her. "Did I?" but his lips curled in a smile of quiet amusement.
She frowned at him in mock anger. "You find it amusing that you can startle me, don't you?"
He grinned at her and she couldn't help but smile back at him. In the last several days Legolas had rapidly regained his strength. His limp was improving and he'd succeeded in making it down the steps alone two days ago.
"You've frightened our dinner away," she said picking up the arrow.
"You never would have hit it anyway," he retorted easily. His sense of humor was wry, sometimes very subtle and sometimes very direct. Alede found it irresistible though it was often as not at her own expense.
The weather had turned fine, the late autumn sun melting most of the snow. Legolas stood in a clearing, the breeze lifting his hair off of his shoulder. He was dressed again in his own clothes, which she'd mended carefully. She couldn't help but think how regal he looked. Though even in her father's cast offs he'd had that Elvish air of sophistication, which seemed inherent to the race.
Standing straight and tall amongst the aspens, he looked as much a part of the mountains as the trees did. His face was tilted up as he drank in the sun. He dropped his gaze and Alede blushed as he caught her starring at him.
She'd been doing a lot of that lately. Even more embarrassing was the knowledge that Legolas knew why she watched him, though nothing had been said. But while he clearly liked her, it was also clear that he did not return her attraction. And her attraction to him was threatening to drive her mad. He was one of the kindest, most engaging people she'd ever known. That and his astonishingly fair face and mischievous sense of humor were more than she could resist. In the past several days she'd come to care for him far more than she would like.
"Here," he said reaching out a hand. "Hand me the bow and let me try and redeem myself."
Alede cocked her head at his impish grin. "I will not let you go traipsing about the woods, if that's what you're thinking. Your leg is not yet healed enough. Another meal of dried meats will not harm either of us."
Legolas rolled his eyes dramatically. "That is a matter of opinion."
"Oh!" Alede swatted his arm, which only made him grin more.
"I had not intended however to propose a hunt. I thought to show you the proper way to draw a bow."
"Oh, well… thank you," she stammered. "I did learn once. But it has been many years, centuries actually and I suppose I have forgotten the way of it."
"Who taught you?" he asked checking the string.
"Elrond's son Elrohir."
"Indeed?" Legolas walked to the edge of the clearing so they would have more room.
Alede followed him. "When I was very young, a girl of only sixteen my father took me on a pilgrimage to Rivendell. I had shown great interest in the healing arts even then and he asked Lord Elrond to teach me his craft.
"While I was there…" she paused gathering her courage to tell him the rest, since he would undoubtedly find it an ironic tale. "I became quite smitten with Elrohir…" she broke off as Legolas chuckled softly.
"And how did you come by your choice? Elrohir and Elledan are twins. Even to my eye they are barely distinguishable. How did Elrohir win your affections?"
"Well," Alede sat down on a log and watched as Legolas casually examined her arrows, though obviously he was intent upon her story as well. "Elrohir was the merrier of the two and as a young girl I could not appreciate Elledan's gravity. Of course Elrohir was aware of my feelings," she cast a surreptitious glance at Legolas.
Damn Elves and their perceptive abilities, she thought but without rancor.
"He took great delight in teasing me and making me laugh," she continued. "He was also very kind… for of course he did not return my affection." She looked down at her hands, unable to continue. The past situation too closely mirrored the present. She was unaware of Legolas' approach until he stood directly in front of her.
"And who would not be kind to you, Alede?" he asked gently tilting her chin up. "For you have the sweetest of dispositions and no one could help but be flattered by the generosity of your affections."
Alede smiled bravely at him, though tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She had known he did not feel for her what she did. But it was difficult hearing the pity in his voice and knowing that her situation was hopeless. Her emotions were not trivial as they had been when she was a child. Standing up, she brushed the dust from the back of her leggings.
"So," she began, clearing her throat and gesturing toward the bow. "Are you going to correct my faulty stance or not?"
"Alede…"
She looked up at him, seeing the regret and the sorrow in his eyes.
"If I could return what you offer, you know that I would, don't you?"
She dropped her gaze and the tears began to flow despite her effort to hold them back. Legolas made a sound of dismay and tossed the bow to the ground. Taking a step forward he enfolded Alede in his embrace, holding her close as she sobbed against his chest.
***
Legolas sat at the trestle table and watched as Alede prepared their evening meal. There had been no archery lesson after all that afternoon. Once Alede had regained her composure, she had pulled away from him and made for the tower house. He'd followed her an hour later after shooting too squirrels. They were not his favorite meat, but he felt he owed her something.
Actually, he thought, I owe her much. She'd saved more than just his life. She'd saved his sanity. Just as she had predicted, the demons of his memory had haunted him most when he was immobile. But Alede had countered his fears with logic, his melancholy with comfort, and the one fit of temper he'd shown with bland indifference.
Two days ago, overcome by frustration he had hopelessly expressed his desire to be done with Middle Earth and pass over into the West. She had knelt in front of him and fixed him with her vivid green eyes.
"This fear will be with you a long time," she had said. "You can either live with it here or you can live with it in the West. But the damage done to your spirit will follow you to the West if you run from it. If instead you choose to fight it, then you may do so with the knowledge that some day you may exact revenge for what was done to you. Therefore bringing some measure of healing to yourself."
Then she'd told him that she'd prepared a place for him in the sun if he felt strong enough to go outside. She'd left him to limp down the stairs by himself. His feeling of achievement as he'd joined her on a blanket outside the door, surprised him.
Which no doubt had been her plan all along. And realizing that, he'd given in. It would be far simpler to let his mind and his body heal, than to face her persistent will. She would calmly argue with him for eternity before she'd let him sink into melancholy.
His limp had improved dramatically since that conversation.
Watching her now as she cut up tubers to put into the stew, he couldn't help feel guilty. There seemed no way he could repay her or comfort her.
Women often admired him, though he seldom noticed, until it was pointed out to him. He was considered fair even among his own people, but gave little thought to the matter. Now it gave him considerable worry, for he wished not to hurt her.
Had he made a mistake, he wondered?
That first night after he'd begun to mend, he'd awoken from a nightmare to find her curled on the floor in a blanket. He'd coaxed her into bed with him despite her obvious shyness. Had she misinterpreted his gesture? He didn't think so. It would have been foolish for her to sleep on the cold floor. She certainly would have become ill. And their friendly pillow fights and banter had been nothing more than that, just friendly.
He didn't think he'd led her to believe anything else. She was simple taken with him, as she had been Elrohir. Except that she was no longer a girl of sixteen, but a woman with feelings far more complicated than those of a child.
He sighed softly, wishing he knew how to handle her affection. She was an engaging mixture of strength and sweetness, womanly grace and childish playfulness. She alternated between an authoritative confidence when tending his wounds and a maidenly shyness when confronted by his gratitude. If he were looking for romance and considered someone outside his own people, she would tempt him. She had a lovely face. And her habit of wearing men's clothing beneath her wizard's robes had caught his attention more than once. She had a lithe, shapely body that any Elf would notice.
But he was not yet ready to take any lady for his own. Despite Alede's engaging attributes, he was not in love with her.
Now that he'd set his mind on healing, he was more determined than ever to finish his exploration of Middle Earth. He and Gimli still had much to discover as well as much work to be done. Both of them had brought their own people to Gondor to help with its restoration and Legolas was eager to return to his work at Ithilien.
But that did not solve the problem of Alede's heart.
****
Alede finished cutting the late harvest vegetable and dumped them into the pot. Carrying it to the oven, she placed it on its crane and retrieved the tiny caldron she'd had heating on the hearth for the past two days. She set it on the trestle and glanced at Legolas' face.
"Such a grave expression. Does my cooking frighten you so much?" she teased.
Legolas glanced up and gave her a wry smile, shaking his head. "No, I…" his face turned serious once more. "I think that I must leave in a few days, Alede."
Alede's heart froze, though she'd been expecting this. Emptiness filled her, threatening to choke her. She loved him, of that she was certain. Just as certain that she could not have him.
"Alede," Legolas began, his voice thick with regret. "If I stay I will hurt you and if I leave I will hurt you. I know not what to do."
She met his gaze and saw the regret, the guilt there. She also saw a glisten that might be a tear. He dropped his eyes for a moment.
Leaning across the table, she cupped the side of his face, coaxing him look up at her. "No," she said more forcefully than she felt. "I would not have you know regret because of me. You did not ask…" she was still uncomfortable speaking of her feelings, though their conversation this afternoon had erased all doubts about his knowledge of them.
"You did not ask," she said again. "…for my affection. I certainly would not force it on you. Do not feel sorrow or guilt because of me. My… admiration is freely given. I ask nothing in return."
Legolas took her hand, squeezing it momentarily. "You are a beautiful woman Alede. Your soul shines as brightly as the sun and I would not hurt you for anything if I knew how." He kissed the back of her hand before releasing it.
Alede bit her lip to still the tears. Unconsciously she brought her hand close, cradling it in the other, protecting the warmth of his kiss upon her skin. The gesture did not go unnoticed by Legolas and he winched.
Alede saw the look and forced herself to regain her composure.
"When will you leave?" she asked as calmly as she could.
"A couple of days I think."
She nodded and fetched a box down from a shelf, setting it beside the gently steaming caldron on the table.
"Gimli will be pleased to see you," she remarked, though her voice cracked.
Legolas nodded. "I believe he will."
Alede had sent a raven carrying a message for the Dwarf once Legolas had begun to mend. There had been two messages from the Dwarf in reply already.
"Well," she swallowed the lump in her throat. "It is best that I get this finished then." She removed the lid of the tiny cauldron and stepped back as a noxious vapor escaped it.
Coughing slightly and waving a hand to disperse the greenish cloud, Legolas asked, "What is this? Not dinner I hope."
Alede laughed in spite of her aching heart. "No, this is to make a talisman. I promised I would give you a safeguard before you left."
Legolas wrinkled his nose. "Does all magic smell so foul?"
Alede glanced up at the pained expression on his face. He never failed to lift her spirits with his dry humor. "Much of it does, particularly green magic."
"The powder that Sildair used on me…" He broke off, but Alede understood the unspoken question.
"Necromancer's powder is made from dragon eggs. I know not how, for I have not studied its art. Obviously Sildair did, or he found a supply of it in Orthanc still. It is alchemy not green magic. Green magic does not harm."
Legolas nodded. They had tread very carefully on the subjects of his imprisonment. But Alede saw no warning signs in his eyes. He was coming to terms with it well, especially since his body began to heal.
"What is that?" he asked as she pulled out three shining strands of hair from her box of charms and supplies.
"Unicorn hair," she said handing it to him and watched as he ran the silky strands through his fingers.
"It is exquisite," he exclaimed. "Will it be part of the talisman?"
"In a way." She leaned across the table and arranged the strands in his fingers, so he held all three by one end. "This will be the cord that the talisman will hang by. I would put nothing less worthy around your neck."
Legolas glanced down at the shimmering strands in his hand to the scanty supply in her box and started to shake his head. "I would not take something so valuable…"
Alede gave him a mock glare. "Do not argue with me, or I'll send you back to bed!"
Legolas rolled his eyes. "You could try," he said, emphasizing the last word.
"Now quit fidgeting and hold this still," she directed. Swiftly, she braided the three strands of unicorn hair together to form a strong, light cord. Then as Legolas held the ends, she fished out a tiny green bottle from her box. Tying the ends neatly around the neck, she leaned forward and slipped it over Legolas' head.
"There, is that the right length do you think?" she asked.
Legolas looked down. The bottle hung in the middle of his chest, just high enough that his quiver straps would not crush it. The bottle was barely the size of his thumb and very flat. "This will do well," he said. "Though I know not how you will put anything inside it. It is so small. Will this noxious brew go into it?"
"No," Alede assured him as he handed the bottle back. "The potion will only transform the magic. I would not make you wear something so offensive."
"I am relieved." And they both laughed at the tone in his voice.
Alede got up and retrieved several bundles of herbs hanging from a rack, going over in her mind all that she would need. Rosemary and rowan to protect against sorcery, marigold for proof against older magic, lavender for purity and osier to bind the spell. The blood she'd add at the end.
Taking out a small knife, she stabbed it into the table and scratched a circle on its surface. Then she carefully cut three small twigs of each of the herbs and arranged them in a clump inside the circle. Handing the knife to Legolas, she said, "I need six strands of your hair, as long as you can cut them."
His eyebrows went up, but he obliged and handed them over. Alede took them, separating three of them out and placing the other three inside her box. "In case I need to make you a second talisman," she said in answer to his inquisitive glance.
Actually she wanted them to remember him by and for no other reason. But she need not tell him that.
She cut three strands of her own hair and then bound them all together around the little bundle of herbs, murmuring the incantation as she wove them in and out. She tied it off with the osier and then dropped the whole thing into the caldron. The fluid sent up a rush of steam and bubbled and frothed vigorously. Once it calmed down to a gentle greenish simmer, Alede held her hand out across the table and pushed the knife toward him.
Legolas looked puzzled.
"I need you to make a cut across my palm."
"What? No, Alede I can't…"
"Hurry, before it loses its potency."
Legolas looked as if he might protest further but finally took the knife. Alede nodded encouragingly as he hesitated. Grimacing he slid the blade across her hand.
Alede flinched in spite of herself. The wound hurt more than it should and she reminded herself to sharpen the blade once she had time for it. Holding her hand over the caldron, she let three drops fall into it. The liquid stilled and went black as night.
"It is almost finished," she said.
Legolas' brow was still furrowed with disapproval as he got up from the table. He limped over to the cabinet and came back with the jar of yarrow and marigold and a strip of cloth. In the few days that he'd been able to come downstairs he'd learned the whereabouts of most of her possessions. Taking Alede's still bleeding hand, he smeared it liberally with the ointment and bound it. She smiled her thanks and then with the fire tongs carefully pulled out the herb bundle from the caldron.
Legolas' gasp of surprise made her smile. The bundle had shrunk perfectly, barely the width of a blade of grass. She easily slipped it into the tiny green bottle and corked it tightly.
Handing it over to him she said, "This will protect you against most kinds of magic. The spell contains proofs against both sorcery and older types of magic. It also binds my powers to you. If I should die, it will lose some of its potency, though not all."
Legolas' eyes came up to meet hers at those words. Looking at her gravely, he put the silky braid of unicorn hair over his head and slipped the bottle inside his tunic. "You have my thanks, Lady."
Before he could say more, if indeed he intended to say more, Alede rose swiftly and went to tend the stew.
"I think this is ready," she called from across the room. Legolas watched her gravely for a moment before limping over to gather plates and spoons.
****
Legolas lay starring at the flickering shadows on the ceiling. He could not sleep. He was painfully aware of the talisman lying lightly on his chest. It gave him no discomfort other than a brief tingling sensation when he'd first put it on. Then it had warmed and lay softly against his chest.
But it was not the talisman itself that kept him awake, rather Alede's words. 'It binds my powers to you. If I should die, it will loose some of its potency,' she had said.
Her tone haunted his mind over and over again. She was using her own strength, her own powers to protect him. Once again, he found himself in her debt. While she might claim that she asked nothing for her love, he still felt remorse.
Would that I could love her, he thought! She is fair and sweet! But he could not force feelings that he did not have. And it would be a disservice to her if he did. Sighing, he rolled onto his side and looked at her.
She lay with her back to him, hugging the edge of the mattress. She'd always kept carefully to her side of the bed. Since she seemed so shy about sleeping together, Legolas had always been careful to never touch her. But tonight, he needed to touch her, as if her body would assuage his guilt.
Reaching for her, he pulled her close, tucking her small body into the curl of his own. She murmured softly but did not wake. Making the talisman had appeared to have drained her and she slept hard. Legolas nestled his face into the silken mass of her hair and breathed in the scent of her lavender soap. The sound of her soft breathing finally lulled him to sleep.
****
A/N: As always the reviews are much appreciated! I have a favor to ask however… would you mind letting me know which day of the week you're most likely to visit fanfiction.net? I'd like to try and post on the best day for most people. Thanks a lot and thanks for reading!!! :) Nebride