Meeting in the Woods
Chapter Ten
The Bohemians
My english notebook took a lot less time than I thought it would to compile-so I have enough time to write Chapter Ten! Hope that last chapter didn't traumatize any of you too much…I sort of got freaked out after I re-read it, because it really does seem like I killed off our favourite elf. But, as I earlier mentioned, this is NOT an AU fic., and therefore CLEARLY Legolas couldn't be dead. Besides, though I have the heart to do some seriously evil stuff to our wonderful elf, I couldn't kill him-that'd be too awful.
In response to your reviews:
Legolas_Freak: Breathe…read the above paragraph. I don't really want to re-write the last chapter, because then it would take twice as long to get this one up, and…who wants that? I guess I am sort of evil, but he isn't dead, don't worry.
Bobo: Tee-hee! Glad you enjoyed it, and I hope this chapter works for you =^^=
Baby: LOL Sorry about the cliffhangers…As for bribes, A/L friendship fics. Make EVERYBODY happy =^^= How'bout something where Legolas isn't the totally submissive-raped-innocent-tortured-captured-AGAIN-bloody-hell kind of thing? LOL Just a suggestion =^^= Hope I got this chapter up fast enough so your Kuizu wasn't disrupted! Too bad about the scanner-I really wanted to see your stuff. 18 by 24?! Bloody hell-you must be talented. If my art's any bigger than your ordinary bond paper, it can't get the proportions right. Enjoy this chapter =^^=
Reginabean: *smiles innocently* In response to your cliffhanger question; it's not only Legly I like to torture! *cackles*…Um….Sorry about that LOL Thanks for your review! Enjoy!
*idly sips at cola*
evil spapple pie (not snapple): Nah, not Saruman—didn't realise that resemblance there. Argh. I really need to think before I do anything. Hope this chapter explains-and hope you enjoyed Legly's little breakdown back there, it was partially inspired by all your subtle hinting! LOL. *glares along with* … …. ….Okie dokie…Enjoy! =^^=
Ithildin: LOL…sorry, it's already tonight…but I tried *sighs at self-failure* Enjoy! =^^=
Anduin: But of course! Enjoy it! =^^=
Mouse: *nods somberly* Indeed, I have subjected our poor little Legly to more pain. But I have my reasons! I swear, it's not just for vulgar, easy and sadistic pleasures! Well, a bit maybe, but really, it helps the plot! LOL! Thanks for your review =^^=
Ringbearer: Oooh…I want to do that too….*purrs*…Wait, maybe we're thinking of diffrerent things. LOL of COURSE he lives, but I appreciate your stunned-ness. Enjoy this chapter! =^_-= What what?
***
"Aragorn?" Elrond asked, glancing up in shock. His foster son leaned against a mahogany bookshelf for support, face ruddy from cold. Panting, he wiped frost from his forehead, shaking his hand, dismissive, as Elrond signaled for help.
"Something's gone wrong," Aragorn panted hoarsely. He had covered the distance between where Legolas had been taken and Rivendell in flat hours, and was now graced with trembling legs, his breath jumping painfully from his mouth, and a completely ice-dashed figure.
Elrond quirked an eyebrow, looking over Aragorn's form. The ranger's clothes were tattered in places, his pack thrown over one shoulder, his blade missing from its sheath. "You've only been gone a fortnight-I expected you to be on that hunting trip for at least a month."
Aragorn shook his head, clearing the blood from his lip with a brusque swipe with the back of his hand. "The nomads-they took him, they took him…" Aragorn slumped against the bookshelf, letting gravity slowly drag him to the cold tile of the library floor. Elrond discarded his book, quickly sweeping over to Aragorn's side, and kneeling beside him.
"Aragorn? Took who?" Elrond pressed, brow knitted with bafflement. He placed his delicate palm on Aragorn's forehead, only to have it batted away. Aragorn rested his head against the side of the bookshelf, captivated by the severity of the situation. "Start from the beginning," prompted Elrond, offering Aragorn his arm.
Aragorn was led over to one of the overstuffed chesterfields, falling into the warmth of the chair, not having realized how much he missed Rivendell until know. Even though he'd only been away a short time, it was home, a place he hated to leave. Aragorn sucked in a breath, hating the way it caught in his throat, brutalizing his seemingly torn lungs.
"There was a scream in the night," he began.
~*~
The elf was light, and pliant, easy to carry. He was carried like a baby in the strong arms of one of the black-clad warriors, draped dramatically over the man's crooked elbows, a waterfall of golden hair tumbling downwards from his awkwardly inclined head.
"Why'd we let the man go?" a man, nearing the back of the horde, wanted to know. He had picked up Aragorn's blade, marveling at how light it was, how the hilt transferred so seamlessly into a wickedly pointed blade. It was clearly of elvish make.
"He's nobody. He'd be no use as a hostage-and he's no where near as pretty as this one," replied the leader calmly. He had pulled back his hood, revealing a face that would have been handsome had it not been so gaunt, haggard from lack of sleep, and from years of vagabonding. He had golden eyes, slashed downwards, almost felinic in appearance. His lips were tight, cracked and browned.
"They return!" A voice called from the heart of a rough camp. A hundred heads looked up, quirking over towards the returning horde. A woman jumped to her feet, gesturing wildly in their direction. "They've got a hostage-the prospect of wealth's at hand!"
The speaker was young, a woman with gentle waves of ebony hair, her arms and hands adorned with acute henna designs. Her eyes were rimmed with black painted, and her clothes were shabby, her slacks baggy, her low-cut shirt covered in a rough mesh jacket.
The leader beamed, embracing her warmly. As she lifted her arm, the sun glinted of the collection of golden bangles up her forearm, jingling like china as they slid, slowly, one by one down from her wrist to her elbow, a melody unique to her.
Legolas was set into a canvas hammock, his arms quickly twisted behind his head, the wrists tied at the opposite side of the slender tree that held up the hammock. One of the abstruse figures hunched at the elf's side, probing fingertips seeking out the gash on his temple, smearing a thick paste of pungent herbs onto the cut.
The elf moaned, stirring. The girl watched her head laid onto the warmth of the man's shoulder. She raised an arm, sliding a lock of coal black hair behind her ear. The elf turned his head towards the source of the musical tinkling of the jewelry. He beat his eyes open, focusing them on the odd scene before him.
He was in some sort of tent town, the triangle rooftops of at least a hundred canvas dwellings in a half-circle around where he lay. People, dressed in dark colours, mingled in between the haphazard community, or huddled around campfires, speaking in low voices about their new hostage.
The dark-eyed girl infront of him beamed as the elf awoke, and the healer dropped back a step, then vanished into the throng of seemingly identical beings. "He's awake," she murmured to the white-clad man.
Legolas furrowed his brow, trying to look angry beyond the fear and confusion pulsating in his mind. "Who are you?"
"We," the man replied, his voice high, distant, as if it was hovering far away. He flourished dramatically, sweeping his left arm out to it's full length, then the right, palms upwards, indicating the community that lived about, "are nomads, the travelers of the day and night. We," he continued, a small smirk forming over his features, "are the bohemians."
~*~
Elrond stared at Aragorn numbly. Many times during the stunned silence that followed Aragorn's painful story, Elrond had opened his mouth, slightly, as if about to speak, but he couldn't find the words.
"So the missing Prince has been found," he murmured, clumping a handful of his hair into a fist, tilting his head into his hand as he did. Aragorn knew this as a characteristic symbol of complete frustration.
"He was kidnapped," Aragorn repeated numbly. He watched Elrond worriedly, waiting for an answer.
"Why didn't you fight them, Aragorn? You claim this elf is your friend, but you let them take him away."
"There were too many for me to take on," Aragorn said slowly. He looked at the rug, more and more thinking he shouldn't have given in so easily. "I thought if I let them take him, I'd still have my life, then at least I'd have enough…well, life, to go back, find the nomads, save Legolas. If I resisted, they would kill me, or him."
Elrond nodded. "You must go back, Aragorn. You mist find the nomads, and set them free. Though you tell me Legolas withstood torture much worse than flat-out pain at the hands of this vulgar man, I doubt he could do so if ever such torture was exerted on him by a mass of people. He's a strong elf-I knew that, from the decades I knew him. Strong enough to withstand rape once. But Aragorn-if you don't save him soon…He will die."
***
Pretty short, I know…I hope you enjoyed it anyway. I meant to continue with it, but if I did there wouldn't be an appropriate place to cut it off…You'll have to wait until tomorrow to get the next chapter, folks-I'm going to see TTT again LOL.
Much luv and such,
~Kayte