Author's note: I would have updated earlier, but I was made to go out and
paint guttering. Not the best way to spend a freezing cold Saturday
afternoon. I think I'll have black paint under my fingernails for the rest
of my life.
***
Elessar hugged Eldarion one last time. Elmarith was clinging to his leg as though she thought she could stop him from leaving.
"Why can't I go with you, Father?" Eldarion asked again.
"Because I want to know you're safe," Elessar replied.
"I'd be safer with you than anywhere else."
"No," Elessar said, hopefully for the last time, "Besides, how would your mother cope if I took you away from her?" He gave Arwen a quick smile. She was sad about him going, but managing not to cry for the sake of the children. Her stomach was beginning to show the swelling of a third child. Not that Rion and Rith weren't enough trouble on their own.
"I'll be home as soon as I can," he said, and pried Rith's arms away from his leg. He kissed her on the forehead, and then turned to Rion. "Take care of your mother," he instructed. Arwen gave him a brief kiss, before taking the children's hands and moving them away.
Elessar mounted his horse. Parlond was already mounted and waiting. Looking back at his family one final time, Elessar gave them a wave, before riding away. He would miss them, but it was better they stayed here in Minas Tirith where they would be safer. He only hoped Rion would stay out of trouble while he was away. The boy had unfortunately inherited his father's adventuring spirit. While it was a good thing for a Ranger to have, it wasn't so desirable in a twelve-year-old prince who was supposed to behave in a dignified and courteous manner at all times. Certainly there was nothing dignified in a boy who was constantly stealing apples from the orchard and had the habit of disappearing when he was supposed to be greeting visiting nobles. Elessar had a suspicious feeling Sal might have given him some ideas for hiding places.
People in the streets stopped to watch as they rode by and Elessar was glad when they passed through the final gate and left the city. He looked over at Parlond, who was clearly trying to conceal his excitement. He was a good soldier, and certainly loyal, but Elessar wasn't comfortable with having him constantly with him. Still, of all the bodyguards Parlond was probably the only one who might be persuaded to say something other than 'yes, your majesty' by the time they returned.
They hadn't gone very far from the city when the noticed a rider approaching fast. He wasn't heading along the road, and was obviously aiming for them. Parlond took out his bow and put an arrow to the string. Elessar put his hand on the hilt of his sword. As the rider came nearer, sunlight glinted off something silver on his chest, and Elessar relaxed. In a few moments the man had reached them. Parlond kept his bow ready, waiting for a command. Elessar looked at the silver brooch on Sal's chest. The last few times they had met, Sal hadn't worn it. It wasn't good for a supposed traitor to show his allegiance. It seemed right that the tree should be back where it belonged.
"New bodyguard?" Sal asked, nodding towards Parlond.
"Ralisay decided I need protection," Elessar replied, grinning.
"That man never changes."
"No. I wish he would turn traitor so I could exile him."
"If you send him out here with me I'll never forgive you."
"You're right," Elessar agreed, "it's a crime worse than cutting my hair." Sal started laughing at that, and Elessar joined in. Parlond just looked very confused, and he was still holding his bow.
"You can put that away," Elessar told him, "Sal's a friend. I've asked him to come with us."
"Sal?" Parlond said, "As in Salafir?"
"Yes, my former bodyguard." Instead of putting his bow away, Parlond's grip on it tightened.
"Don't worry," Sal said, "the rumours of my treachery are rather exaggerated."
***
Sal thrust the sword into the man's heart, staring as blood flowed out over his hand. He watched terrified as the blood seeped through his skin. He could feel it inside him, burning like fire as it flowed through his veins. Coming closer to his heart.
He tried to pull fortune free, but it was too late. He had killed. The blood was on his hands. Was inside of him. Finally he yanked fortune out, causing more blood to flow from the wound. The man still stood in front of him, his back towards Sal. He should have fallen. He should be dead. He should have died a long time ago, when the orc arrows pierced his flesh.
Sal was frozen with fear as the man turned to face him, seemingly oblivious to the hole through his heart. He fixed Sal with his gaze, staring into Sal's eyes with a pair that glowed red with inner fire. Sal wanted to run, wanted to flee away from those burning eyes, but his body wouldn't obey his commands.
He wanted to bring fortune round to put out those lights forever, but nothing no matter how much he desired it, it wouldn't happen. Sal was a soldier, he was able to put fear out of his mind, but none of his training had prepared him for this. Those burning eyes stared deep into his soul.
"You are mine," the man said.
Sal sat up, giving out a cry without realising it. A fog obscured his vision, and the fear still gripped his heart. He reached instinctively for fortune, knowing he was still in danger.
"Sal!" The fog cleared suddenly, and Elessar was kneeling beside him. "Sal, what's wrong?"
Sal looked round him, the man with the burning eyes was gone. He had never been there. Parlond sat, looking at him confused. Elessar was there, a hand on his arm, a concerned look on his face.
"It was nothing," Sal said, "just a dream." Elessar didn't look convinced, and Sal wasn't so sure either.
***
Author's note: Starting as I mean to go on, with an evil cliffhanger. Please review.
***
Elessar hugged Eldarion one last time. Elmarith was clinging to his leg as though she thought she could stop him from leaving.
"Why can't I go with you, Father?" Eldarion asked again.
"Because I want to know you're safe," Elessar replied.
"I'd be safer with you than anywhere else."
"No," Elessar said, hopefully for the last time, "Besides, how would your mother cope if I took you away from her?" He gave Arwen a quick smile. She was sad about him going, but managing not to cry for the sake of the children. Her stomach was beginning to show the swelling of a third child. Not that Rion and Rith weren't enough trouble on their own.
"I'll be home as soon as I can," he said, and pried Rith's arms away from his leg. He kissed her on the forehead, and then turned to Rion. "Take care of your mother," he instructed. Arwen gave him a brief kiss, before taking the children's hands and moving them away.
Elessar mounted his horse. Parlond was already mounted and waiting. Looking back at his family one final time, Elessar gave them a wave, before riding away. He would miss them, but it was better they stayed here in Minas Tirith where they would be safer. He only hoped Rion would stay out of trouble while he was away. The boy had unfortunately inherited his father's adventuring spirit. While it was a good thing for a Ranger to have, it wasn't so desirable in a twelve-year-old prince who was supposed to behave in a dignified and courteous manner at all times. Certainly there was nothing dignified in a boy who was constantly stealing apples from the orchard and had the habit of disappearing when he was supposed to be greeting visiting nobles. Elessar had a suspicious feeling Sal might have given him some ideas for hiding places.
People in the streets stopped to watch as they rode by and Elessar was glad when they passed through the final gate and left the city. He looked over at Parlond, who was clearly trying to conceal his excitement. He was a good soldier, and certainly loyal, but Elessar wasn't comfortable with having him constantly with him. Still, of all the bodyguards Parlond was probably the only one who might be persuaded to say something other than 'yes, your majesty' by the time they returned.
They hadn't gone very far from the city when the noticed a rider approaching fast. He wasn't heading along the road, and was obviously aiming for them. Parlond took out his bow and put an arrow to the string. Elessar put his hand on the hilt of his sword. As the rider came nearer, sunlight glinted off something silver on his chest, and Elessar relaxed. In a few moments the man had reached them. Parlond kept his bow ready, waiting for a command. Elessar looked at the silver brooch on Sal's chest. The last few times they had met, Sal hadn't worn it. It wasn't good for a supposed traitor to show his allegiance. It seemed right that the tree should be back where it belonged.
"New bodyguard?" Sal asked, nodding towards Parlond.
"Ralisay decided I need protection," Elessar replied, grinning.
"That man never changes."
"No. I wish he would turn traitor so I could exile him."
"If you send him out here with me I'll never forgive you."
"You're right," Elessar agreed, "it's a crime worse than cutting my hair." Sal started laughing at that, and Elessar joined in. Parlond just looked very confused, and he was still holding his bow.
"You can put that away," Elessar told him, "Sal's a friend. I've asked him to come with us."
"Sal?" Parlond said, "As in Salafir?"
"Yes, my former bodyguard." Instead of putting his bow away, Parlond's grip on it tightened.
"Don't worry," Sal said, "the rumours of my treachery are rather exaggerated."
***
Sal thrust the sword into the man's heart, staring as blood flowed out over his hand. He watched terrified as the blood seeped through his skin. He could feel it inside him, burning like fire as it flowed through his veins. Coming closer to his heart.
He tried to pull fortune free, but it was too late. He had killed. The blood was on his hands. Was inside of him. Finally he yanked fortune out, causing more blood to flow from the wound. The man still stood in front of him, his back towards Sal. He should have fallen. He should be dead. He should have died a long time ago, when the orc arrows pierced his flesh.
Sal was frozen with fear as the man turned to face him, seemingly oblivious to the hole through his heart. He fixed Sal with his gaze, staring into Sal's eyes with a pair that glowed red with inner fire. Sal wanted to run, wanted to flee away from those burning eyes, but his body wouldn't obey his commands.
He wanted to bring fortune round to put out those lights forever, but nothing no matter how much he desired it, it wouldn't happen. Sal was a soldier, he was able to put fear out of his mind, but none of his training had prepared him for this. Those burning eyes stared deep into his soul.
"You are mine," the man said.
Sal sat up, giving out a cry without realising it. A fog obscured his vision, and the fear still gripped his heart. He reached instinctively for fortune, knowing he was still in danger.
"Sal!" The fog cleared suddenly, and Elessar was kneeling beside him. "Sal, what's wrong?"
Sal looked round him, the man with the burning eyes was gone. He had never been there. Parlond sat, looking at him confused. Elessar was there, a hand on his arm, a concerned look on his face.
"It was nothing," Sal said, "just a dream." Elessar didn't look convinced, and Sal wasn't so sure either.
***
Author's note: Starting as I mean to go on, with an evil cliffhanger. Please review.