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Bitter Sweet
Alakdaliel was only half-aware of the wood above her suddenly bulging outward, bursting. In rushing bubbles of air, she drifted up, out through the hole in the hull into darkness. Vaguely, she knew she should do something. She could almost remember what. Yes. Her feet kicked weakly; she tried to move her arms to swim. The seemed just to float.
Something seized her dress, and panic roused her in thoughts of sharks and lionfish, and the valar alone knew what else might inhabit these black depths. She flailed desperately with fists and feet, felt her knuckles land solidly. Unfortunately, she also screamed, or tried to. A great quantity of water rushing down her throat washed away the sound, and very nearly her final scraps of awareness.
Something tugged on her hair, then again, and she was being towed..somewhere. She was no longer conscious enough to struggle, or even to be very much afraid of being eaten. Abruptly her head broke surface. Hands encircled her from behind--hands; not a shark, after all--squeezed hard against her ribs. She coughed-water spewed from her nose-coughed again, painfully, and drew a shuddering breath. She had never tasted anything so sweet in her life.
A hand cupped her chin, and suddenly she was being towed again. Lassitude washed through her. All she could do was float on her back, and breathe, and stare up at the sky. So blue. So beautiful. The stinging in her eyes was not at all from the salty water.
And then she was being pushed upward against the side of a boat, a rude hand beneath her bottom shoving her higher, until two lanky fellows with brass rings in their ears could reach down and haul her aboard. They helped her walk a step or two, but as soon as they let go to help her rescuer, her legs collapsed like towers of soggy mush.
On unsteady hands and knees, she stared blankly at the bow and boots and green tunic someone had thrown down on the deck. She opened her mouth-and emptied herself of what appeared to be the majority of the ocean. The entire ocean, it seemed. It would not have surprised her at all to see a few fish, or her slippers. She was wiping her lips with the back of her hand when she became aware of voices.
"My Lord is all right? My Lord was down for a very long time."
"Forget me, man," said a commanding voice, oddly familiar. "Get something to wrap around the lady." Legolas's voice could not be mistaken.
Wide eyed, Alakdaliel barely bit back a wail; the horror she had felt when she thought she was going to die was nothing alongside what flashed through her now. Nothing! This was a nightmare, Not now! Not like this! Not when she was a drowned rat, kneeling with the contents of the ocean spread out before her, bruised and battered.
Scrambling to her feet, she did the best to straighten her dress and hair. Taking a deep breath she cleared her mind. Her dress did not matter, nor her hair. She was calmness itself, cool as an early spring breeze, self possessed as..she spun around before he could cone on her from behind and startle her into disgracing herself completely.
She only realized how quickly she had moved when she saw that Legolas was just than taking his second step from the railing. He was the most beautiful elf she had every seen. Soaking wet in shirt and breeches, he was gorgeous, and his dripping hair clinging to the angles of his face, and.A split purple bruise was rising on his face, as from a blow. She clapped a hand to her mouth, remember her first connecting.
"Oh no! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to!" She was not really aware of crossing the space between them; she was just there, stretching up on toe tips to lay fingers gently on his injury. She could not stop touching him. Both hands traced his hard cheeks, his wonderful blue eyes, his strong nose, his firm lips, his pointed ears. She combed his silky hair into place with her fingers, adjusted the braided strands in the front. Her tongue seemed to have a life of its own.
"Oh, Legolas!" She murmured. "You really are here!" Somebody giggled. Not her, Alakdaliel did not giggle, but somebody did. "It isn't a dream. Oh, Valar! You're here! How?"
"A merchant at the palace a few days ago mentioned an arrival of a two woman, and a man. One unconscious, which I now presume, was you. He described you quite clearly. I do not know how you have managed to come to this situation, but I have not doubt you will explain fully.."
"I don't care now. You're here now. You're here. I thought I was going to die! Just moments ago.you're here!" She did not giggle.
"Maybe she is a princess," one of the boatmen murmured, not quite low enough, "but I still say she's one duckling who means to stuff herself in that wolfs jaws."
Alakdaliel flashed pure scarlet, and she snatched her hands to her sides, her heels thumping to the deck. Another time she would have given the fellow a lesson or two, and no mistake. Another time, when she could think. Legolas crowded everything out of her head. She seized his arm. "We can talk more privately in the cabin." Had one of the boatmen snickered?
"My bow and"-
"I'll bring it." She said, snatching up the things while hustling Legolas inside and slamming the door. Alone at last, her hands went back to his face, only to straighten his hair once more, and he caught her wrists gently in his big hands.
"My father has arranged my marriage." He said quietly. "I am betrothed."
Calmly pulling her right hand free, she slapped his face as hard as she could swing. His head hardly moved, so she freed the other hand and slapped him harder with that.
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Bitter Sweet
Alakdaliel was only half-aware of the wood above her suddenly bulging outward, bursting. In rushing bubbles of air, she drifted up, out through the hole in the hull into darkness. Vaguely, she knew she should do something. She could almost remember what. Yes. Her feet kicked weakly; she tried to move her arms to swim. The seemed just to float.
Something seized her dress, and panic roused her in thoughts of sharks and lionfish, and the valar alone knew what else might inhabit these black depths. She flailed desperately with fists and feet, felt her knuckles land solidly. Unfortunately, she also screamed, or tried to. A great quantity of water rushing down her throat washed away the sound, and very nearly her final scraps of awareness.
Something tugged on her hair, then again, and she was being towed..somewhere. She was no longer conscious enough to struggle, or even to be very much afraid of being eaten. Abruptly her head broke surface. Hands encircled her from behind--hands; not a shark, after all--squeezed hard against her ribs. She coughed-water spewed from her nose-coughed again, painfully, and drew a shuddering breath. She had never tasted anything so sweet in her life.
A hand cupped her chin, and suddenly she was being towed again. Lassitude washed through her. All she could do was float on her back, and breathe, and stare up at the sky. So blue. So beautiful. The stinging in her eyes was not at all from the salty water.
And then she was being pushed upward against the side of a boat, a rude hand beneath her bottom shoving her higher, until two lanky fellows with brass rings in their ears could reach down and haul her aboard. They helped her walk a step or two, but as soon as they let go to help her rescuer, her legs collapsed like towers of soggy mush.
On unsteady hands and knees, she stared blankly at the bow and boots and green tunic someone had thrown down on the deck. She opened her mouth-and emptied herself of what appeared to be the majority of the ocean. The entire ocean, it seemed. It would not have surprised her at all to see a few fish, or her slippers. She was wiping her lips with the back of her hand when she became aware of voices.
"My Lord is all right? My Lord was down for a very long time."
"Forget me, man," said a commanding voice, oddly familiar. "Get something to wrap around the lady." Legolas's voice could not be mistaken.
Wide eyed, Alakdaliel barely bit back a wail; the horror she had felt when she thought she was going to die was nothing alongside what flashed through her now. Nothing! This was a nightmare, Not now! Not like this! Not when she was a drowned rat, kneeling with the contents of the ocean spread out before her, bruised and battered.
Scrambling to her feet, she did the best to straighten her dress and hair. Taking a deep breath she cleared her mind. Her dress did not matter, nor her hair. She was calmness itself, cool as an early spring breeze, self possessed as..she spun around before he could cone on her from behind and startle her into disgracing herself completely.
She only realized how quickly she had moved when she saw that Legolas was just than taking his second step from the railing. He was the most beautiful elf she had every seen. Soaking wet in shirt and breeches, he was gorgeous, and his dripping hair clinging to the angles of his face, and.A split purple bruise was rising on his face, as from a blow. She clapped a hand to her mouth, remember her first connecting.
"Oh no! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to!" She was not really aware of crossing the space between them; she was just there, stretching up on toe tips to lay fingers gently on his injury. She could not stop touching him. Both hands traced his hard cheeks, his wonderful blue eyes, his strong nose, his firm lips, his pointed ears. She combed his silky hair into place with her fingers, adjusted the braided strands in the front. Her tongue seemed to have a life of its own.
"Oh, Legolas!" She murmured. "You really are here!" Somebody giggled. Not her, Alakdaliel did not giggle, but somebody did. "It isn't a dream. Oh, Valar! You're here! How?"
"A merchant at the palace a few days ago mentioned an arrival of a two woman, and a man. One unconscious, which I now presume, was you. He described you quite clearly. I do not know how you have managed to come to this situation, but I have not doubt you will explain fully.."
"I don't care now. You're here now. You're here. I thought I was going to die! Just moments ago.you're here!" She did not giggle.
"Maybe she is a princess," one of the boatmen murmured, not quite low enough, "but I still say she's one duckling who means to stuff herself in that wolfs jaws."
Alakdaliel flashed pure scarlet, and she snatched her hands to her sides, her heels thumping to the deck. Another time she would have given the fellow a lesson or two, and no mistake. Another time, when she could think. Legolas crowded everything out of her head. She seized his arm. "We can talk more privately in the cabin." Had one of the boatmen snickered?
"My bow and"-
"I'll bring it." She said, snatching up the things while hustling Legolas inside and slamming the door. Alone at last, her hands went back to his face, only to straighten his hair once more, and he caught her wrists gently in his big hands.
"My father has arranged my marriage." He said quietly. "I am betrothed."
Calmly pulling her right hand free, she slapped his face as hard as she could swing. His head hardly moved, so she freed the other hand and slapped him harder with that.
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