Meeting in the Woods
Chapter Eleven
Detainees and Defenders
Notes on Bohemians
Somebody reviewed this story with some quite sharp remarks on how I was insulting the culture of those native to Bohemia by the reference to the Romany Warriors in my last chapter. I just wanted to note that, though Bohemians are also those native to Bohemia, they are also defined as (A) A gypsy, or (B) An itinerant person; a vagabond. Any confusion on this topic I may have caused is GREATLY regretted, and I hope you don't hate me for not specifying.
(If you want to check this for yourself, check out www.dictionary.com.)
You've tried to kill! You've tried sedating! But you just can't stop…KayteUnfading!
I'm terribly sorry for the length of the last chapter; it was party due to the fact that I couldn't find a good place to end it after I kept on going, and partly because my friends were starting Black Hawk Down without me. Have you seen that movie? It's phenomenal-really exciting, and not vulgar like most of the war movies that have come out lately (by vulgar I mean awful, not bloody.) Plus, Orly looks TOTALLY hot in it. Like, really. Eleven on the drool scale.
Also-I didn't update yesterday because my friends were down, so I brought them to the mall to see TTT-but it didn't start until 7:30 so we went and saw Chicago-it was a fun film, if you're into whorey musicals! LOL
In response to your reviews:
Legolas_Freak (very mad): You're still reading this? LOL I Thought from your last review you'd be trying to find me and kill me. Again, sorry for being a bitch to Legolas and all, hope this chapter helps make me seem less mean. Thanks for your review =^^=
Yoink Daydurfurits: LOL!! Thanks for your review, sorry for not having this chapter up until now…Enjoy!
Tithen Min: ROFL! I hope you don't fall off your chair, and if you do, I hope you have a very lovely pillow or a pile of gold to fall into =^^= Enjoy this chapter!
Evil Spapple Pie: Bohemians/Nomads/Gypsies/Vagabonds/Romany are basically, by my definition (and therefore the one I used in the story) are people without set homes-they wander about the countryside in large groups, setting up camp wherever the hunt is best or where the sun is warmest. Quite literally a nomad is a wanderer. Hope that clears some stuff up-and enjoy this chapter =^^=
Linsy: All right! *poof* Posted more! Hope you enjoy!
Anduin: LOL Of course he wouldn't…Legolas is much to sex-um, a good friend. *coughs* Thanks for your review LOL
Celestra: Aww…Thank you SO much for adding me-I can't believe you think I'm that good, particularly considering how amazing your fics are. Anxiously waiting for some good Legolas torture fics! *cackles sadistically and strokes action figure* LOL Thanks again for your review!
Azteca: *blinks and BLUSHES madly* Thanks! As for the Legolas weakness thing…I would have loved to make him the strong (beautiful golden godlike munchkin) elf we all know he is, but that would've totally ruined the two chapters after chapter nine….But thanks for the suggestion =^^= In future fics, he'll definitely not be so…submissive? I know that's not the word I'm looking for. LOL! I thought it was site, but now you've got me thinking. Syte looks a lot cooler. ROFL Hope you enjoy the upcoming chapters!
ElfGirl: *blushes* Thanks! Enjoy =^^=
Lani: ROFL I've never thought of it that way…Maybe I do…*strokes action figure thoughtfully* (as a note, it is physically impossible for me to hate Legolas, because he is FAR to sexy ROFL) LOL Hope you enjoy this not-so-very-much-torturing-Legolas-chapter!
LAXgirl: *beams* Thank you so much! Sorry I couldn't post this as quickly as I wanted-don't hate me!
Skywise: *giggles sheepishly* … ….teehee….Enjoy!
Imbefaniel: Tee-hee! Clubbing hot elves makes me powerful! *rubs hands together* ROFL Enjoy this chapter!
Allora Gale: Yeah…Legolas isn't exactly having the best of luck at this point in time XD Hope you find this chapter before tomorrow morning =^^=
Goma-Ryu: Aaah! Legolas can't die, there's no way I'd be able to kill him. ROFL Thanks for your review.
Amy: ROFL Yay!! TTT! *dances around* Sorry 'bout keeping you up…Hopefully this shows up before 2AM =^^=
Itarilde: ROFL I dunno, Kayte just seems so much more suiting…*smiles innocently* LOL Glad you liked-enjoy this chapter!
Baby: XD Anxiously waiting my bribe-reply. I just went and saw TTT for the ninth time yesterday---I really need a life. And I bet you are talented! Most people who say they're crap at art turn out to be the next Renoir. I totally enjoy working with charcoal pencils, but graphite blocks drive me crazy-it goes everywhere. I hope you can scan something, cause I bet it's amazing! =^^=
G: See note at top of chapter. Perhaps before being so outwardly mean to me you could take out a dictionary XD Nah, just kidding mate. Thanks for the criticism, and again terribly sorry if I offended anybody!
Bobo: He is FAR too cute. There's something about him that's just….I dunno, un-kill-a-ble. Y'know? LOL! Enjoy =^^=
Meneharma: Arghable, I'll never get this elvish thing right…I was just using the quotes directly from TTT (XD When Aragorn's on his horse infront of Helm's deep talking to it…aaaah serious life lacking happening here.)
NOTE: I KNOW I missed some of your reviews-I'm extremely sorry, and if I did don't hate me-I still totally appreciate them. I have all my reviews saved onto my computer, and will write up my thanks in the next chapters. =^^= Until then, enjoy this chapter, and be happy!
***
Thick scents of spiced meats and rough ales mixed with the comforting aroma of pine from the forest. Lying miserably, hands and ankles bound, on the hammock, Legolas wondered, as he had for the last three days, in and out, lying uncomfortably ridged on his back, about many things. Though, that night in the cave, he felt he sorted through some of the more distant problems, the new ones seemed to invade his brain just as importantly.
The bohemians had drifted away from the trodden clearing where Legolas lay, leaving him alone with the intermingled scents and the storm-tossed thoughts breaking against the shores of his mind. Who were these men and women and children, so thickly intertwined like one family though they clearly belonged to several? They had called themselves the bohemians, the nomads of the crags.
But what did they want with a harmless-looking elf? Legolas knew, beyond the layers of himself that he absolutely despised, he was beautiful-his form lithe, attractive to behold, fair skin and sweeping golden hair in complete contrast with the irregular tans and choppy black bobs of these men. But so far, the only ones who advanced on him were mystified children in hand-sewn garb, passing their corpulent fingertips again and again over the elf's arms and face.
It wasn't until that evening that he knew. The leader, once dressed in the exceptional shades of ivory, had replaced his garb with the simpler black slacks and loose jerkins that seemed appropriate to his people. Legolas stirred automatically as the figure shifted into view, followed by a disheveled bloke of no more than fifteen.
"We don't know who to tell we've got him," came the lad's voice, lowered so for the elf not to hear. Like all humans, ignorant on the subject of elves, he turned his back on the creature to mute his voice, striking his head forward to murmur to his cardinal.
The elf blinked, incoherently letting out a sigh of disbelief.
"He was on the path to Rivendell. I'd bet you bacon he's one of that El-El-Elro…Elf lord's sons. The elves are rich, have you seen their garb? And no way all their women could look so magnificent without at least some sort of alteration," replied the leader. He glanced about, his eyes darting over to the elf, who stared dully in the other direction, trying to look pensive.
"We dare not send note to Rivendell, Chief, their leaders wouldn't' hesitate in sending their full armies after this creature, particularly if he is who you say he is." The lad shook his head, fingering a curl blankly.
"Then you are to ride out to Rivendell, to give the message directly, and in secret, to their Lord. Tell him if a single elf is spotted within ten leagues of our camp we'll slay them without hesitation." The leader narrowed his eyes at the adolescent, then impatiently gestured towards the east. "GO!"
The elf shivered, subconsciously dropping his gaze to the ground. I'm a hostage, the elf realised. He hoped Elrond would have the presence of mind not to deny Legolas as his son, else surely one of the twisted blades of these nomads would be cold to Legolas' throat.
"Wait!" called the leader impatiently, angrily gesturing towards the retreating lad. He walked into the clearing, dagger at hand, hovering over the immobile elf, who stiffened, holding himself ridged, resistant to any pending pain.
The dagger swept down, rippling the air around Legolas' ears, before catching onto the stiff material of his tweed cloak. Carefully, the man slit a square of fabric from the elf's cloak, then handed it to the impatient lad hovering behind him. He grabbed the cloth, and shoved it under his belt, then urgently rushed off again.
Legolas arched his back, suddenly understanding the danger he was in. What would happen if Elrond didn't know who this blonde with the man's cloak was? Would not they kill him without hesitation? Or would he be forced, once again, at the rough hands of men, towards that cliff-edge he knew so well?
***
Aragorn sat on the edge of his four-poster bed, shaking his head in disbelief at Elrond, eyes wide with shock. He fisted the bedspread in shivering hands. "I can't go back there, not alone,"
"We cannot send any of the elves. Aragorn, you know I want to help you, and Mirkwood would be impossibly grateful if I were to return their missing Prince, I'm sure. But I simply cannot risk it. If the Romany got their hands on any of the Rivendell elves, they would certainly kill them-by conventional means, or somehow else. You'll have more luck on your own,"
Aragorn winced, directing his gaze towards the velvety blue of his bedspread. "Fine," he whispered towards the bed, closing his eyes. He felt impeding fright enclose his heart-that threatening man, clothed in white, and the hundred guards around, strong hands clasped on sword-hilts.
~*~
Legolas furrowed his brow in concentration, biting deeply onto his tongue to keep from crying out in frustration. His pale, rangy fingers slowly curved inwards, towards the rope that bound his wrists. Though the rope had been looped and bound expertly, Legolas was determined to have it unwound before gloaming.
Arching his back, he quickly tossed his hair behind his shoulders, fisting one hand, drawing it as far back from the other one as he could, spacing the twin wrists a hairsbreadth. Legolas struggled to draw his arms awkwardly above his head on the other side of the tree, slowly bringing them down again, thumb tip tracing the bark.
There! He thought triumphantly, and quickly hitched the ropes overtop of a minute knot in the bark, curving upwards like a hook in the wood. Frantic with desperation, Legolas craned his arms, feeling a coil of the rope catch midway onto the extruding twig. Quickly, he rubbed his wrists back and forth over the tiny knot, smirking in triumph as the first coil of rope frayed, and fell loose.
Legolas held the rope firmly in his hands, drawn into a perfectly horizontal line between his fingers. Hunched low, he kept close to the dense thickets, dodging behind slender trees whenever he heard the soft sound of footsteps.
Hidden behind the brush nearest to the tent he knew belonged to that man, that hideous tanned creature with the white robe, he waited patiently, kneeling on the dead leaves soundlessly. With sick amusement, he watched as the man drew himself from the tent, and walked behind it, facing the clearing where the elf had once been incarcerated.
Instead, he was faced with an empty hammock, rocking in the early autumn wind, golden upswept leaves circling about, taunting. Legolas tensed, relishing the moment of absolute shock followed immediately by confusion and rage, the emotions playing over the normally smug face.
The man took several steps back, a calloused hand stroking the stubble lining his quadrate, gaunt jaw in disbelief. Soundlessly, Legolas rearranged himself, positioning himself like a cat moments before pouncing, tensed.
The man stepped back again, looking from side to side for a glimpse of the golden creature, but instead was met by the mysterious rustling of leaves. Before he could even make a movement to turn, a sturdy, though impossibly insubstantial form was pressing into his back, and he felt the brambly coarseness of a hemp rope was crushing against his throat.
The scream that ripped from his lips was muted, only heard by the elf poised determinedly behind him, grip not slackening even as impossibly weak arms circled to their throat, bluing fingertips desperately sought some sort of breadth to slide under, to stop the torture that cut off his breathing.
Finally, the creature limped, arms dropping uselessly to his side, breathing cut, life spent. Legolas let gravity hold the man, drawing him to the ground, expertly snatching the man's longknife from the sheath at his waist before his broken body could crumple, finally, over the underwood.
Legolas held the blade up to his face, sideways, laying a hand on the side, testing he weight, the balance. Ably, he swung the blade weightlessly to the side, holding it in but three fingers, before quickly grabbing it in his entire hand. Suddenly agile and energetic, he whisked through the camp, soundless like a ghost, his feet barely touching the ground.
~*~
Aragorn lay a hand on his horse's neck, murmuring in comforting elvish as the tawny mare threw herself back, bucking wildly. Aragorn and his horse were faced with a camp, clearly one of the nomads-fires burned amidst angular tents and concaved wooden structures, pack animals ambling in hastily built fences.
But the camp had been faced with genocide, or so it seemed; blood was stroked over the ground, fallen weapons littering the once peaceful undergrowth. The forest stirred under the vicious wind, whipping whispy branches about the canopy, as if battling back whatever evil had overcome this camp.
Aragorn's eyes swept throughout the seeming abandoned campsite, until they fell on a thicket of dark-clad men and women, huddled around a makeshift courtyard in the middle of their community. They spoke in hushed voices, some thick with grief, hoarse with fear, or firm with heavy, inconsolable rage.
Fearing the worst, Aragorn dismounted, laying a palm over his horse's brow and willing it to stay. His steps heavy, he walked slowly towards the camp, hulking behind the tents, and crouching, hidden, alongside the crowd of folk.
"…Came over…L'rych dead…"
"I saw it too…His throat was ringed in black…"
"Choked…"
"Ratarya…my dear Ratarya…wound in his belly…is he going to make it?"
Somebody whispered something imperceptibly, and for the second time, the merciless, weather-worn faces of the black-clad bohemians turned to Aragorn, who had leaned away from his hiding place to hear their muted words, and had been caught in the talented eyes of a now orphaned child.
Aragorn drew himself to his feet in alarm, swearing to himself at not having taken the blade Elrond had offered. I'll not need it, he had murmured, they'll not see me. Aragorn struggled to draw his uneven dagger from his belt, useless at cutting more than rope or cloth, and held it at arms length.
"You-you are the one we spared," breathed a male voice. "You were traveling with that monster…"
"We let him go once! Never again!" roared a voice. Aragorn blinked around in confusion, but before he could respond, his wrist drawn to throw the dagger at the first antagonist, a child's stone struck him in the head, and he knew no more.
Deep, deep in the deepest shadows, no more than a glimpse of gold among the dark hues of the forest, the lithe form of the Golden Prince noticed Aragorn sink to the ground, encircled by the bohemians, their weapons drawn, circling slowly, in careful formation, shrouding the man finally from his keen eyes. But he make any moves to stop them-nor did any expressions befall his emotionless face, or any movements take hold of his motionless form. Nor did he care.
***
Awfully sorry for ending it like that. I'm going to try and get chapter twelve up today, as well. This story's probably got no more than two or three chapters left, and an epilogue, but I'm considering writing a sequel. What do y'all think?
146 reviews! HOLY CRAP! You guys are so bloody awesome-I'm seriously going to go and read all of your stories when this one's over and done with. Maybe I'll write you guys a request fic or something.
Lots of luv and such!
~Kayte