SHADOW IN THE TREES
By : mirkwood-elf-2931 & Thala
CHAPTER 17
It had been nearly half an hour, since they had reached the small treeless
location where camp had been set for them. It was not safe to even be near
Isengard now, not that it really was before, but they had to risk it for one.
One who they knew would have died if they had waited so they could move out of
the area completely.
"She's coming around! Landailyn? It is Arwen, can you hear me?" Arwen had
Landailyn's hand in a vicious grip, as she felt her unconscious friend's
fingers tighten around her own.
"Calatria! Help me!" Arwen yelled to one of the female healers.
She turned back to her friend's face and wiped the sweat from her brow with the
only unstained, damp cloth she had left. Landailyn's eyes cracked open, as did
her mouth. A weak groan escaped her throat before she was silent again.
"It's going to be alright, Landy. I promise. You'll be alright." She whispered
close to Landailyn's ear. As she pulled away, a tear mingled with the blood on
the chest of Landailyn's stained tunic.
The wound had still continued to bleed from the front and back, even though it
should have by now ceased. The small cloths Arwen had were all soaked with the
red fluid and she desperately needed fresh ones.
Calatria soon brought more, along with athelas, water and bandages and helped
the princess bathe and dress the wound as best they could. Arwen chewed the
athelas and packed it inside the three inch horizontal slit in her skin. Just
as Landailyn had done for her on the previous night.
"There, I believe that shall serve well for awhile." Arwen spoke, when they had
finished. "She lost a considerable amount of blood, but it seems she's going to
make it. She just needs to be give water often."
The healer agreed with this.
Landailyn had relaxed, unconscious again. And it was better that she was, she
was very weak and needed her rest. Arwen only prayed there had been no poison
on the blade, as the Orcs liked to use on their arrow tips. "Call for me, if
there are any changes."
Calatria nodded that she would.
Arwen stood and turned east. Looking over the various people, she found
Thalawen sitting alone by a small fire that had been started for them.
Taking a last look at her patient, she went to join her previously lost friend.
She sat down on the cool grass across the campfire, watching Thalawen closely.
The flames licked through the air and played with the shadows on the girl's
face. Arwen could only guess at what she was thinking at this very moment.
Was she the Elf who'd once been her very best friend, or was she missing the
White Wizard's power?
Thalawen looked up at once and stared into her eyes, as if she could hear
Arwen's thoughts, as though she'd been speaking. Thalawen's eyes were misty,
but she would no longer let her tears fall. Arwen knew this better than anyone.
"Thalawen? I must ask you something," The Elf continued to stare at her. "Did
you...was there any...posion on the blade that you...that went through
Landailyn?" She hated having to correct herself like this.
Thalawen said nothing, trying hard to recollect the correct information around
her confused and jumbled thoughts, only to shake her head not much later.
Arwen, very relieved, slowly rose and crossed over to her friend, sitting down
next to her, but not as close as she would have normally. Thalawen saw this
action and was much saddened by it.
"Why do you cringe from me now, Arwen?" Her first words to her since before her
capture. "I am me and you are you, we are much the same as we once were. Events
have changed our lives and appearances," she was speaking of the now healing
scars and wounds on each of them. "but we are still family as we ever were."
This was said sadly, while she stared into the fire. Her eyes finally rose to
Arwen's and looked reproachful. "Aren't we?" She asked hopefully.
The tears in Arwen's eyes finally spilled over the spiky barriers of her lashes
and she threw her arms around Thalawen's shoulders. "I love you, Thalawen, more
than anything. But what happened? I need to know why you did this." She was now
weeping on her shoulder.
Thalawen patted her back soothingly and shushed her sobs quietly, as Arwen had
done for her. "Yes, I will tell you. I need to tell you."
Thalawen's words were swift and steady throughout her story. Her voice hushed
and ashamed. The fire became low with the length of the tale and no one to
rekindle it. There were more tears and gasps from Arwen as she heard the
brutality forced upon Thalawen. Her voice faded into the night as the flow of
words ebbed and finally finished.
The two friends embraced, Arwen horrified for her friend's torture, Thalawen
relieved that she was forgiven by the person that mattered most to her.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
Saruman awoke to the snarling of his more newer servants. Climbing slowly to
his feet, head throbbing and a scowl firmly etched onto his face, he touched a
finger to his left temple. From it, a small stream of blood had run down his
cheek.
He looked around him. Nothing, but a large group of Orcs and Uruk-hai stood in
the dark room. All bodies had been removed and the blood was being cleaned by a
few of the smaller ones. Apparantly, they had been waiting for him to wake up
and it didn't at all please him they had left him lying on the floor.
Eyeing them all indignantly, he recovered his staff and stepped up to the tall
podium that held his seeing stone. Throwing off the cover, he let a hand hang
over it. He could see them, his escaped servant and her rescuers, still in the
vicinity of Isengard.
"Shall we go after them, my lord?" Asked Golnakh most eagerly, the others
making their own noises of excitment to the suggestion. "They couldn't have
gone far."
The Wizard sighed very quietly and took his hand away. "No,"
The small Orcs grunted, but knew better than to protest or ask the master questions
if they wished to remain in existence.
"You will leave them." In his clever mind, another scheme was at work. "Back to
work. All of you."
The Orcs and Uruk-hai scattered and made for the exits, muttering in
disappointment.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
As the night grew old, the sky blackened, making each of the stars stand out
and shine their brightest.
After Arwen had finally tended to Thalawen's injuries, she had soon fallen
asleep without really meaning to.
Thalawen stared down at her. Old, but fond memories entered her mind, that she
could not before keep a grip on in her former imprisonment. She sighed in
contentment, she was safe now and her old self again and it was all possible,
because of two people.
One, who was likely. For she had been her best friend for the past two
thousand, seven hundred, seventy-seven years and she knew already would give
her life for her own in a second. It seemed her deep connection with Arwen had
kept her from killing her to simply get her out of her way.
And another, that was unlikely. Another whom she had only just met, but the
more she thought about it, it somehow seemed like she'd known her for years,
centuries. It felt close, almost like it was with she and Arwen. For Landailyn
seemed also willing to give her own life, though for someone she hardly knew.
Even in the brief time they had known one another, a bond had been created
between the two, so much alike, yet so different. And with the consequences
that came with her ill actions, she hoped that bond had not been severed. The
connection with Landailyn was yet a shallow one; reminding herself that
Landailyn was the reason she had turned to the darkness offered in the first
place and had been all set to kill her, if her 'deep connection' had not
stopped it.
This brought her to advert her stare to the person in mind. Were there any
changes? Would she even still make it? Arwen had assured her before that
Landailyn should turn out alright, but she rose from her spot to go see for
herself.
Thalawen arrived to find her in worst shape than she'd expected.
One of the healers was sitting next to her, patting her head with a cloth and
trying to keep her still, as her body writhed and her mouth opened to let out
streams of words in the grey tongue. Landailyn's brow was covered with more
sweat as she breathed heavily. Her once serene features were now contorted with
pain, only once in a great while did she calm and rest.
Calatria was at her side and looked at Thalawen closely. Watching her with
narrowed eyes full of contempt.
She knew the Elf was looking scornfully at her, but refused to care. She hadn't
come to be stared at, she'd come to look upon her friend. To truly witness in
her right mind, what she had done. "How does she fare?" She asked quietly.
The woman seemed almost surprised that Thalawen should ask this, for her eyes
became wide and her mouth opened, but nothing came out.
She sputtered a response. "She's become feverish, but do not wake Lady Arwen,
she needs her rest just as well. Hopefully this will pass sooner, rather than
later. I believe it is only out of minor infection, with the blood loss, her
body is too weak to fight it." She looked back on her ward with misty eyes and
murmured. "There are only certain ways you can keep the fever down, cool wet
cloths is one, so that is what I am trying."
But Thalawen was no longer listening. She was staring down on Landailyn's face.
The younger Elf had finally stopped muttering and seemed to be resting. She
left her to go back to Arwen, hoping with all that Landailyn would make it
through.
She, more than anyone else, deserved to know everything that had occurred.
TBC ...
