The Hunting Trip
Chapter 22: The Foundation of Trust
When two that have known one another well are parted and forced onto different paths, foundations begin to shake loose. The actions that one might expect of the other go astray, usually out of self-preservation, sometimes for sacrifice, or even because there is belief that one has been spurned. Without the reinforcement and assurances built into companionship, the motivations and reasoning of these actions can become confusing and sundered.
For those within it, the world goes askew when lovers are torn. What was once right can suddenly become wrong. Words are misread. Ambitions are ill-perceived. Trust is lost. But is all truly forsaken for those who had great love? Can something so deep and abiding be totally cast away? Does the foundation of this attribute hold true even when communication is cut off?
No two loves are ever the same, so it is impossible for any who have suffered such a fate to answer alike. In the case of Mattias and Kattica, their love was strong from the start. Yet the question still held as to whether they could withstand the test they now faced.
Mattias jumped back when he realized Kattica was watching him. He had been lost in his thoughts as he stood over the Elf, bereft and alone for the first time in his memory as the weight and magnitude of what had come to his people laid before him. The limp form of the Elf was a reinforcement of the blame he must bare. He had been witness to it all, though distantly, and his posture gave away the sickness he felt at the mere sight of the unmoving creature. He had not heard her approach so was startled by her sudden appearance. To her unexpected entrance he graced tears and an expression of aching remorse that etched deep ridges into his brow.
Kattica was equally as surprised to see him, startling with wide eyes at his uncertain appearance. He was crying, and she was uncertain as to why. His behavior for the last however many days would have led her to believe he was beyond sympathetic emotion. But the confusion between these two people did not begin and end there for she had been approaching the scene very quickly, and unfortunately for her, he was very certain as to why she would come with such haste.
It had come to this. In scant days they had become near strangers to one another, torn apart by the independent actions and deceptions of an outside force. Like two halves of a mirrored object they were, separated and tossed aside. They recognized and knew one another, only they were unclear as to how to reunite, to bring their motions back into sync with each other. Bregus had brought them to this. Once they had been happy, living in the small world they had made together, wanting nothing more than to continue their blissful normality. Yet so much had happened in such a short time to destroy their happiness, and worst yet, to destroy their trust in one another.
They eyed each other nervously, neither certain what the other was about to do. Finally, with what seemed to be resignation, Mattias turned back to face the Elf he had stood over. For one casually observing the scene at a glance, it was easy to interpret his actions as ones of a captor checking the binds that held a prisoner in place. But a knife was concealed in his hand. Kattica could see that what he had truly been attempting was a means to rouse the Elf so that he might free him and that too surprised her.
At first Kattica did not understand, interpreting Mattias' actions as he had meant them to be seen. It was only the quick gleam of the blade in his hand that made her realize something else was in process. Even then, she thought his intentions might be of Bregus' doing and she wondered how she might fight him. It wasn't until he spoke that she came to understand his true intent. Sadly though, in that short conversation he never came to see her actions were meant to be the same as his.
He spoke, stunning her with his words. "This is my fault. All of this. It is my failure that has made these events possible." His eyes sparkled with unshed tears as he confessed this.
"Mattias?" she queried with a single word, unable to interpret his meaning.
He looked sadly at her, as if he had done something to bring harm to her, shaking his head in regret before he went on. "I should have stopped this, years ago, before it became so dangerous. Before others became entangled in it."
Kattica took a step closer, stretching out her hands to him. "Mattias," she said, "What is it you are saying?"
He flinched at her short step, but then corrected himself, straightening as he did then turning his back on her in a subtle show of isolationism. He spoke over his shoulder and his voice was stern. "I hope you will not attempt to stop me, Kattica. I must do this whether she likes it or not – whether you like it or not. I have to stop this cycle."
The girl held out her hands to him, the message sent one of aid, not hindrance, but his back was drawn to her, and he did not see the obvious desire to assist his cause. Instead what he did observe was the look she sent over her shoulder, seeking out the location of the dogs around the camp perimeter. She cried out warning, though he read her words as threat. "You should move away now lest the dogs get you, Mattias!"
His voice rose in heated indignation and fear. He spoke a coarse whisper, "Agent of my mother you may be, but you are also my wife. If ever you loved me, I have faith you will not act against me."
It was apparent from the expression that danced across Kattica's features that she grasped his misinterpretation. Trying to correct it, she said, "No, Mattias! You do not understand! I am not captive to her will!"
Too late though it was when she said this, for immediately dogs came from all sides as if beckoned, circling Mattias and his stance over the Elf. He did not seem to hide his actions any longer. He bent down and flashed his knife near Legolas' slack left arm and was about to cut it loose when a deep-throated growl caught his attention and forced him to freeze in mid-motion. Remaining perfectly stiff so as to not be seen as a threat, he called out to his wife, "Call off the dogs, Kattica! I will not be dissuaded!"
"No! It is not mine to decide. Another power guides them, Mattias!"
"Black magic guides them, and sadly, you have become its mistress! Choose, Kattica! You cannot have both! This darkness or me!" With those words he moved his knife nearer the ropes binding the Elf's hand.
The girl's face became taut with anxiety as she watched both his actions and the dogs'. She appeared beside herself, uncertain what to do in answer to his challenge. She cried out, "Mattias, no! You do not know what you ask of me! I dare not go this path, for all of our sakes! Please stop, now, before harm comes to you!"
But just then the edginess of the dogs could no longer be restrained and the greatest of the males, the lead hound, pounced upon Mattias. Chaotic madness followed as a fray of beasts leapt into the hub, snarls and growls rising into the air punctuated by his grunts of pain and a whirl of arms fighting them off. And all the while, Kattica watched, frozen by indecision as her face registered the horror bestowed upon her husband.
****
Bregus struggled against her exhaustion. Age had done much to render her helpless to such a triviality as sleep. Her body required rest much more than she would have preferred though she fought hard to banish that need. It was a difficult attempt made worse by the drug coursing her veins. Still, her mind raced on in a haphazard direction while her body managed a state of restfulness. It was an odd sensation, awake and asleep simultaneously.
The drug had been a mistake, one she really could not afford, but made all the same. It was called tabib hsear in the Romany tongue. Vision seeker. And though it did much to stir her already active mind, it also made her unfocused.
She had little control as she tried to reach out with her mind. Her grasp on the souls under her spell was weak. They moved on without her and she became vulnerable. She knew this and was frightened by it, but she held tight to the thought that she had controlled for so long that a few hours rest would not forfeit her dreams. She only hoped no one else would detect her failing. There was only one person who knew what truly had befallen the old woman, and Bregus was taking a gamble that that knowledge would not be played upon.
No one else would be familiar with the potion Bregus had concocted except for Kattica, and limited though the girl's education had been, Kattica had surely seen the effects of that formula once or twice in her life. As a shuv'ni apprentice, she would have been exposed to supervised sessions of the drug at the shuvanis tents at tribal gatherings. It was a coming of age experience when first taken, and with proper guidance, the mind of a young drai'bengo could find their center and their life guide to aid them in their path. The introduction of that spell had been what led Bregus into Bäla's steps, her guide showing her into his arms and telling her the destiny they would hold together. It was the singular moment that defined who she would become, and Bregus held it close to her heart.
It had also been a moment when she realized how much of an influence the guiding shuv'ni could have, and she knew this drug could be used to bend the thoughts and will of a soul if used properly. Bregus had used it many times over the years, administering it to many, even her sons, Gordash and Curtik on occasion, to coerce them into adopting her plans. It had worked beautifully, and was what made them answer her call at will. There were others she held under this spell as well, but none so compliant as her sons, and she supposed that the combination of their love with her magic made them incapable of resisting her.
While she had considered it though, she had never delivered this elixir upon her eldest son, Mattias. Why this was so she was not entirely certain. It may have been that she had no need to, for of all her sons, Mattias was the one most willing to bow to her wishes unquestioningly. Amazingly, he almost perceived her desires without need to ask. With respect, he turned to her nearly always first when a tribal decision loomed. He was their leader, yet he bowed to the grace of her wisdom, which was how Bregus felt it should be. Mattias was courteous and mannered in the customs of his people. And therefore there had never been need for Bregus to sway him to her will. He was swayed without use of tabib hsear. Not that she hadn't used her dark powers against him entirely. There were short-lived influences she had cast upon him when she had need, much like the one she had used on the entirety of the camp only a few days prior. Yet, the use of the vision seeking drug was one she did not deem necessary for Mattias, and truth be told she liked that he was untainted this way.
She had actually considered using it on him once though – when he had brought Kattica around the tribe at one of the gatherings. Immediately Bregus suspected the girl's influence and the use of magical spells to woo her way into her son's heart. Yet by the time she had known of the girl, it was too late, for Mattias was in love, and that alone could drive away the effect Bregus had wanted. It was pointless to try to change his mind and so Bregus tried to accept the marriage of Mattias to Kattica. And though that held strong, Bregus had worked to make the girl's life as miserable as she could, hoping that somehow it might drive the young woman away. It did not work, then. Had she realized what an effect the introduction of black magic had on Kattica, Bregus might have considered using this method far sooner. Having an ally was better than having an enemy.
But those were the random thoughts of an incoherent old woman. What was truly disturbing in her mind was the sound of barking, snarling and vague cries of pain. Bregus could hear them, but in an unattached way, like one hearing a distant song. Still, she knew from the sounds that there was trouble somewhere near, and vaguely she considered that it could have something to do with her captives. A disaster that would be, and she attempted to rise in order to tend to it. However, she was too befuddled to make a deep heartfelt effort, and she found herself settling into the comfort of gentle sleep despite her need to rise. The sounds went on though, and rather than mixing into the soft caress of dreams, they stood out, alerting her mind of dangers. But there was no more strength in the old woman. She called upon the only thing still available to her weakened mind – her sons.
She called out to them. She needed their help, and in a plea that was weak she made contact with at least one of them. The reply was swift, and Bregus had nothing more to fear or worry. Someone would protect her treasure.
Yet something else nagged at her mind, something yet undone. She pried at her thoughts, digging into her memory to try to recall what it could be. The world was a blur, and she could not sort it out. And rather than fighting it, dully she came to know she would need rest before her mind would grow sharp again. Relaxing into it, she let her thoughts meander an aimless path.
****
Legolas had been deeply asleep, trapped in the lethargy of Elven healing. His rest had been heavy, unblemished by occurrences in the outside world. It was therefore startling for the Elf to be driven to wakefulness so abruptly. Yet he could not remain in a neutral state given the chaos that had erupted around him.
A cacophony of noise echoed in his ears and it all mixed into a medley of harshness that wrenched him out of his healing need. With Elven senses alerted, he picked it apart, identifying the various components to the assembled sounds, each adding to the nightmare. There was the sound of growls, and a woman's sob, along with the grunts and fighting temper of a man embroiled in battle. In the background he heard Faramir's cries of curious fear and the voices of roused souls from across the camp, wonderment and chill pressing their voices.
At the same moment, his eyes came open and the vision fit the sound. The flash of a coarse grey and black coat raced across his body in flight toward another, a body thrown against his in a whirl of movement as the sharp, quick pain of racing feet and the thick nails of a dog made contact with his torso as the animal flew past. The heavy musk of animal breath reached his nostrils at the same moment that a snarled visage of white fangs whipped past his eyes. Several dogs there were in this attack stance and at the exact same time, several other animals pounced into the fracas, each jumping and attacking a body that Legolas could only identify by arms and legs shooting out in protective mode, fighting them off. A cry of pain and fear rose from the beastly carcasses moving to and fro. It was a man's cry, and Legolas gasped. The dogs were not attacking him, but someone that stood at his side. And though he was not the target of their assault, he still felt the brusque shouldering of bodies as they buffeted him to reach their intended.
It was the cry of the man that was most disturbing among all the others to the Elf. It was the noise of one surprised to be made target. Flashing his eyes from the whirl of bodies to that of the other mortals about, his head came up to a woman's tearful plea.
"Mattias!" she screamed, then her eyes fell to Legolas and a begging voice called out to the Elf. "Help him! Speak to them! They understand you! Help him! Please! I cannot!"
Meanwhile, Mattias' voice shrieked out from the hurling fur and snarled echoes making the scene like one on a battlefield. It was hard to follow everything, but Legolas managed to hear the man's plaintive cries. "Kattica! Send them off! Send them off! Call off your magic!"
Rocked by bodies pelting against him, Legolas cried out, naturally falling into his Elven tongue. "Daro! Daro, haundil! Lasto nin beth! Daro!"
He had to repeat himself many times before some of what he said began to register. Several animals turned in answer to his cry, barking as if angered by his interruption, but the lilting sound of Elvish words were distinct and carried over the ruckus of the beasts' growls. Legolas did not ease off, continuing the rally of words, and as heartbeats passed, the animals began to respond. Ears pricked and more than one dog backed off his attack, growling as it did so, while simultaneous pitiable whimpers carried out of their throats and echoed through the thickly branched canopy of trees. The golden eyes of the hounds turned to face him, snarling and nipping in answer, yet finding his voice irresistible to ignore.
"Daro!"
Still there was more to communicating with animals than just words and while Legolas kept up his running monologue, repeating key phrases again and again, his eyes remained set, daring to look into those of the wild dogs. "Lasto a daro!" he exclaimed.
The hounds that had stopped at his command could not hold his stare. They backed away, holding a perimeter guard around the scene. Still, the horror of the man's cries went on and the voices of others echoed on, while Kattica sobbed her worry.
"Lasto!"
Interrupting these actions, Legolas could hear Faramir's call, "Legolas? Legolas, answer me if you will."
But the Elf dared not answer, knowing to drop the command in his voice was to lose the control he had gained over the situation. He continued to speak to the dogs with Elvish words. "Manman, huanellon. Lammen nin golodh le. Lasto a daro!"
Two more dogs moved away from the huddled form of Mattias and Legolas could hear Kattica gasp a sob as only one hound remained. The male dog snapped at the others, drawing back, as if commanding their obedience while it circled anew its prey. Still the other dogs held their positions, looking down or away like one caught in indecision. But the lead male was not willing to give in.
Alone, it snarled, baring its fangs in a threatening show. Legolas could see it was about to launch itself again, and the Elf knew alone or with aid, this dog was trained to kill. It would do so without hesitating.
Changing his tone, Legolas began to speak softly, turning to gaze on the dog. "Beleg dholdraug, pedan le – lasto! Ú-farith si."
The dog turned, glancing away from Mattias and staring at the Elf. Its yellow eyes fixed in a cold stare, and Legolas could see it was challenging him for dominance. The Elf knew the scent of his blood from the previous attack at the hands of the men would not help his situation, nor would his bound wrists. The hackles on the beast's nape rose, its coarse hair standing on end from the base of his skull to the mid-rise of its tailbone. A heavy musk smell penetrated Legolas' nostrils in a new wave, and he could feel the tension of the beast assessing him. It knew. Legolas was helpless if the dog should attack.
Knowing his position and hoping the plea was enough, he averted his eyes, backing down from the dog's challenge. He hoped his words would call the dog back, the animal perceiving and understanding the tongue gifted by the Valar to the Firstborn. In a far calmer voice he softly repeated, "Ú-farith si"
Fangs exposed themselves in a startling sneer, and a low rumbling growl emanated from the dog's throat. Several dogs around him licked their chops in answer, as if showing they would join in the fight should the lead dog attack.
Even with eyes downcast, Legolas could sense the movements of those around him. Kattica remained frozen, as if she realized her actions were a danger to both the Elf and her husband. In the distance, Legolas could hear voices questioning and calling, several sets of feet running this way. He could hear Faramir struggling, giving up on his calls after the Elf had not answered, bucking the ropes that held him and letting the dogs' growls be the indicators of where this tale traveled. But the being Legolas was most attuned to was Mattias, and Legolas hoped the man knew not to make any sudden moves. And Mattias did not, shifting only slightly in his position. But it was enough to pull the dog's attention away and back to where it originally had been. Another threatening growl rolled out, this time directed at Mattias.
Legolas felt his throat go dry as his pulse quickened. He knew what was about to happen. Though he had spoken, the beast's heart was cold. It felt no allegiance to the Eldar, and it would attack despite understanding the Sindarin words. There was nothing more Legolas could do except call out quiet warning to Mattias.
"Do not move, Mattias. Not even in the slightest of ways do not move!"
"He means to attack, does he not?" the man asked in a soft whisper, glancing sidelong at the dog.
"Cast your eyes down! He sees you as a threat!"
But it was too late, and without further warning, the dog kicked its hind legs and launched itself forward at Mattias. Legolas closed his eyes, not wishing to see the renewal of the pack's attack. But even with eyes closed, he could not hold back sound. A snarl of foulest fury spewed from animal throat, and at the same time a yelping spike of a wail shrilled out from the dogs throat as heavy feet kicked past the Elf and made their way at the furious animal.
Opening his eyes at the suddenness of new activity, he caught the scene of another man dashing at the beast and lifting it by the nape of its neck and tossing it as if it were a weightless object. The animal was hurled tens of feet away. Simultaneously the cried word, "Mattias!" escaped the throat of another, and Legolas both recognized the face and voice of Curtik pulling his brother upright while Gordash was turning to face the growl of the beast.
The large man grimaced as he pulled forth a knife from his boot. As the dog lunged again at the men, the sheen of the blade disappeared into the thickness of fur at the dog's belly. A sound of a barked whimper was the last utterance of the beast and it fell back, stumbling, then sitting, then slowly sinking to lay almost directly at Gordash's feet. Its eyes never left the men who it had meant to attack, changing from fixed and hardened to confused and unfocused. It panted softly, opening and closing its mouth as if swallowing, tasting a last remnant of life before its pupils went wide, and it stopped moving entirely.
The scene grew eerily still for a moment, and the sound of the men's heavy breathing along with the panting of the dogs were the only noises available to the Elf's ears. Legolas leaned his head back, sighing inwardly that this terror was over.
The scratching shuffling sound of the other animals cleared the silence. The remaining five dogs backed away, whimpering softly, sniffing the air to ascertain the death was real, while Curtik called out in his native tongue to them. One dog in particular growled at the others, nipping the heels of two of the more staid animals, then it leapt forward, leading the others away from the scene, its heavy breath dripping saliva along the path it created. The other dogs followed their new leader, heads cast down and Legolas assumed they returned to their duty of protecting the camp.
The corpse of the dead dog lay only five feet from where Legolas sat prone. He looked at the dead animal. He had to wonder what might make the dog so fixated on halting one of its masters. His attention was drawn away as he watched Curtik balance his brother. He realized then the animal had been helpless not to obey its true master. Just as had these men, the dogs had formed their loyalty to Bregus early on in their lives.
The larger man's concentration was on Mattias' wounds, and Gordash hissed when he saw the multitude of punctures breaking the skin across Mattias' arms and body, tearing his garments and lashing his chest. With fortune, though, none of the dogs had maimed Mattias at a critical vein, and blood did not spill forth in any great way.
"What happened, Mattias?" Curtik asked, and for the first time Legolas realized there were many eyes cast on this event. A small circle of people were gathered around them.
Mattias' eyes met with the Elf's and he stammered, "II was checking his bindings when the dogs came upon me." A subtle flicker in the man's eyes shone, and for a moment Legolas detected almost an apology in Mattias' stern face. "I do not know why they attacked," he said, and Legolas knew he was lying.
Almost forgetting she had been there, Kattica then stumbled forward surprising all in the company. Her eyes were also on Mattias' wounds, though the second he saw her he pulled away. Looking into her face it seemed he almost dared her to say something that would challenge him. Mattias' lips drew into a thin line while his chin lifted defiantly. "You could have stopped them," he murmured toward her. Then he looked at Gordash still cradling his arm and said, "I must clean these wounds and then perhaps you will help me bind them, my brother?"
"Let us see to it," came the larger man's answer as he released his brother's arm and all three men turned away. Gordash released a heavy sigh as he bent down to study the fallen dog again before picking it up. Legolas saw there was something new in Gordash's attitude, almost disdain, as if he blamed the girl for the dog's death. He glanced back for a moment to let Kattica know his words were directed to her. "I should have liked to know what could control this animal to act with such bold effrontery and desertion of loyalty." Legolas saw Mattias wince slightly as if he were hurt that the blame could be placed on Kattica, but then he marched forward, ignoring everyone and everything, including Kattica. Picking up the dog, the large man followed and Legolas was left to consider the irony in the Romany's question.
"Legolas?" came Faramir's pleading whisper and though the girl stood by, Legolas thought it might be safe to answer.
"I am well, Anborn. Have no fears," he said, stressing the last word ever so slightly so the Prince would know the Elf was not alone. It was enough to appease, for he heard Faramir settle back and audibly sigh.
With Mattias and his brothers walking away, the gathering disbursed. Legolas was amazed again at the fickle, unfeeling mood of these people as he was left alone with Kattica. He could see them watching from a distance, but their compassion was still cold, and he had to wonder if Bregus held them captive to her will, or if by some odd twist in human nature this were more normal for their temperament. At least there was scrutiny among them where before there had been nothing. He felt curious to know what they thought of his and Faramir's presence in their camp, if they thought anything.
The only representative he had to judge them by was Kattica, and that was an unfair comparison he knew, for if anyone, she seemed more aware of what was taking place than anyone else among them. Yet she did not appear to be all that clear herself at the moment. In fact, the girl looked ready to faint. Still she remained upright and he concluded it was emotion that drove her onward only because her face was locked in an expression unreadable. It mattered not, for she gave herself away as she softly muttered to no one present, "I could not have stopped them, Mattias. Not without fear of losing myself. I know I cannot go into the darkness again but how do I make you see?"
Comprehending little, Legolas mustered up the courage to speak. He interrupted her haunted stare as it followed her husband and said almost accusingly, "He begged you to call off the dog, and yet you cried to me that you could not save him. A strange contradiction you present."
Still watching Mattias before he entered the supplies wagon, she winced, "I would have had to reach into the dogs' minds. Going there is a dark place. I do not know if I could have stopped at just that."
Legolas was lost as what next to say. Her face showed great pain and distress, but he knew he felt enough disdain for what she had done to him and her role as an accomplice to Bregus that her did not want to attribute any sympathy to her. Yet her expression was pathetic, and though he could see she was trying to steel herself to it, it ran deep. Vaguely, he recalled her attempts to comfort him after the beating he had taken and though his feelings then were of repulsion and fear, he had to acknowledge she had helped him. The medicines she had applied had healing properties and they had aided his body in finding a course toward remedy. He knew in his own heart he should try to ease her sorrow at least in a small amount in reciprocation.
"The darkness did not seem to frighten you before. If it would have been of aid, why do you not have step there again?" he asked.
Kattica turned and stared at him, looking hard into his face for the first time. Her eyes were accusing and he realized this was not a simple question. And then almost instantly her features softened, and with a slight groan she kneeled before him. "Let me look at your wounds," she said as she cocked her head slightly and lifted a hand to his face.
Reflexively the Elf flinched, and Legolas scolded himself for the action when he had not intended it so outwardly. He could see she had been attempting to aid again.
She smiled sadly, continuing her tending despite the small move and proceeded to unwrap the bandage from his brow. The moisture gathering in her eyes told him however what she felt. Her voice quavered as she spoke through her ministrations. "You fear me," she softly uttered. Glancing into his eyes, she caught him with her gathering sorrow. "Mattias does as well. It was never my intent to be feared."
Legolas surmised enough from her expression to know the truth of this statement. "Bregus did this to you," he assessed.
The tears that escaped her eyes were answer enough. Her hands shook as she continued the unbinding of bandages. "I am trying to fight thisthis darkness," she whispered while the corners of her mouth skewed downward.
"And touching a mind draws you deeper, does it not?" he asked, watching her carefully, knowing already his answer.
"It is the essence of all dark magic, to maneuver without askance," she said, bowing her head minutely and squeezing shut her eyes. "And it is powerful in its allure. It calls to me now."
"It beckons you?" Legolas asked, a chill running up his spine as a warm breeze from the south brushed past his face. There was something familiar in what she was saying.
Kattica opened her eyes and stared tearfully into his face. "I can hear it. It draws me. It wants me to join it. Can you know the struggle of that?"
Legolas dimmed his eyes and sighed. He could feel her pain and his heart ached at the sadness and strain he knew she felt. He could share this feeling with her. He knew it well. Even now, in this darkest of places, he could hear the beckoning call of his own inner desires. She asked if she could know his struggle and with a hearkening lurch in his chest he knew his answer. Beyond other Elves, he had never met mortals who suffered as he did. He knew exactly what she fought and almost automatically let his thoughts wander there. He stopped himself and shrugged off the harm it might render. He thought of his friends and their plight and it balanced him. He took another breath to clear his thoughts before he found it within to answer.
"I can know," he answered solemnly, suddenly feeling an enormous kinship with the girl. "I understand what you feel for I fight a similar battle."
Suddenly moved, she turned her concern to him. "For you? What struggle erupts within your mind?"
Legolas felt his own anguish bubble forward, but he held it back. It was worse now that he would speak of it, though he knew he must if he could be of any aid to her. Gimli often tried to pull this from him, not realizing exactly how much worse it was when he did. Legolas had long found he did better to hide it behind a wall of greater feeling, to use his friendships to gird himself from the echoing cry of the Sea's full assault. Speaking on it only made him more vulnerable to its presence. He could push it aside so long as his other feelings were stronger. But Kattica needed to understand, and so for the second time on this journey he let a small crack in his resolve spill forth. He could feel his own throat constrict as he said the words. "The Sea," he whispered. "She is a constant in my mind. She calls to me always to leave these lands and travel on to join my kindred Beyond."
"But that sounds lovely" she interrupted.
"It is a horror to me," he answered curtly, blotting out the underlying waves of feeling before they could render him helpless to their magnitude. "Often has it swept over me like a swift wind, unintentional and soaring when I do not wish it so. I am nothing but mute and dumb in this affliction's presence. I know not my own mind when it is upon me. If what you suffer is anything akin to my ailment, I can well understand your torment," he said as he bitterly pressed back the Sea's grip on his thoughts.
"Aye, it is as you describe!" Her eyes were afire with eagerness for his words. She looked upon him with compassion and remorse. "Yet you fight it. You do and you remain whole. But how? I cannot help but feel admiration for that. How do you manage it?"
Legolas leaned back, closing his eyes and struggled to push the plundering thoughts away. He felt a whisper of wind glance across his face and smelled the familiar scent that rode upon it. Even this far away, he could sense the Sea's presence and he almost found himself carried away by it as its pull resounded about him. Mournfully he spoke as he fixed his mind into action. He could feel the tears spill from his eyes as he fought it. "You misunderstand. I am not whole. I am very much torn. But, I do fight it." He said this as if trying to convince himself. "For some dozen years now I have battled it, and I expect that fight will go on for many years longer if I am allowed. I do not desire to leave these lands yet. The Sea continuously pries at my soul with her song, but I wage war on her." His tone grew in strength as he went on. "There are things I desire more than what she can offer. She will not have me. My friendships root me to middle-earth and middle-earth is where I will stay until the time is right for my departure. I can only do this by remembering always my comrades and my duties. I remind myself constantly of my allegiances, my loyalties. They have always seen me through these troubles, even when I have had doubts."
He opened his eyes, perceiving now his control over the Sea's song safely locked behind other emotions. He looked at her and said, "You must do the same. If you can hold tightly to your values, Bregus cannot harm you."
Kattica's eyes were wide, and Legolas could see she was shaken. She turned her attention to his wounds as she softly spoke. "This must be the way of the Elves. You have hidden strengths. Your wounds heal well. I do not think this need contained any further and the air will do you good now. Would it that I could heal myself so easily," and as she said this, Legolas realized she was speaking on other matters beyond his physical wounds.
"You can heal yourself, Kattica," he said with quiet assurance as another breeze caught a wisp of his hair.
She stared at him for a moment before looking away. "You have your friends to help you through your pain. I have no one. Even Mattias has turned away from me."
Legolas swallowed hard before saying what next came to him. His mind was still riddled with doubt. Yet, for some reason, he trusted her. "I would have once considered you friend. I still may. And if that is so, I would help you."
She too looked doubtful. "I have done nothing to earn your trust. I would try, but I do not know what I can do to win you over or make you believe I would no longer deem harm unto you and Anborn."
"You can free us," he offered with a laugh.
It was only a fleeting plea, not one of which he expected her to truly respond in an affirmative, so he was surprised when after a moment of quiet study she nodded and smiled. "It was my intention to do exactly before I found Mattias here." She looked down at her blossoming skirt and reached into her deep pockets.
"Was it his intention also to free me then?" Legolas asked, remembering the look on her husband's face when he had been asked his excuses by his brothers.
"It was," she answered solemnly, and Legolas began to understand Kattica's sorrow. Her intent and Mattias' were the same, yet he perceived her motivations as being driven by Bregus and not for the good. Her husband no longer trusted her. New pity washed over the Elf, and he felt compelled to offer her greater solace.
"Both of you came to the same conclusion at the same time. That shows there is hope to break her, does it not?" he asked.
"He believes I work for her," she answered tearfully, pausing momentarily in her search to look up at him.
Legolas pursed his lips in thought before saying, "He has little reason not too," but then added, "He has lived long under her spell, I assume, and only a short while with you in the guise of darkness. It could be he knows not what you struggle against nor has he been given ample time to learn of it. He only assumes you have become like her. Have you tried speaking with him of this?"
"I have not had opportunity," she said with eyes cast down.
A hint of anger mixed with shock rose up within Legolas at this confession and he realized then just how lost she really was. Such naivete, he thought. She was making assumptions without knowing full truths, and if she would help him, simply acting would not be enough. There were holes in what she knew, even her relationship. Something so valued as this should not bare these gaps.
Perhaps what he would say would be too much for her to hear and would frighten her away. Indeed, Kattica was young, but it needed to be said, especially with freedom at stake. Pushing away his hesitance, he guarded his words to hold back their harshness. "Before throwing your soul to the wind and accepting your fate I would recommend you speak with him, Kattica. Has it not occurred to you that Mattias has somehow freed himself from Bregus' spell? Do you think it would it not shock him to learn of her evil after dwelling within it for so long? And to wake to discover your black powers as well must be frightening for him? Yes, you need to speak to him. Should you not find the reasons for his release? Should you not console him and show him your heart is still truly locked in goodness?"
A lone tear trailed her cheek, and Legolas could see this had not occurred to her. "Look around you," he said. "Have you not noticed that the camp seems more alive with true emotions in the last several minutes than it has in the last several days? Why is that? There is danger here for all in this camp, not just for my friend and for myself. I can feel it. Cannot you? To save them you must know what her intent is and how will she make it done? There are so many that have been rendered harm in this endeavor. What of my friends, Strider and Gimli? Where are they in this horror? Can they be helped?"
Kattica's expression was unreadable and so Legolas delivered his final thoughts on the subject, "This is what will cure you, Kattica. You must cease wallowing in misery for your own plight, for you are not the only one affected. You must be selfless, Kattica. A true healer is, and you must now become that. It is time."
She looked at him with something close to horror, and he mentally chastised himself. It had been too much. He was asking her to take on too much in the role she had been given. She was not ready. Yet her expression yielded and he came to see she could accept it. She fumbled further in her pockets. Reaching in, he could see she had found something and a small smile ran up over her scarred mouth. She pulled out a small length of roping and for a moment he thought it to be the talisman Bregus had constructed. However, this decoration was missing the pendant with the running figure. After another moment, a smile came to Legolas' face as he realized that this amulet was made from, of all things, his own hair. With a smile, it all came together for him.
"You are right, Legolas," she finally said as she began to tie the amulet about his wrist, looking over her shoulder as she did so and making it appear that the action was one of adjusting the ropes tying him down. "At one point finding out these things would have been my greatest priority. Now I can see just how corrupted I have become. You are my friend for telling me, and I shall endeavor to remedy my ways." She finished tying the coiled hair about his wrist and then smiled. "This is where I start. For you, this amulet will protect you against her spells. I made it when I was still whole. Try now to move your legs."
Legolas focused his attention on his limbs and was mildly surprised to see his legs indeed could move, though not well. They were slow, retarded in their response, yet they moved. Legolas felt gratitude for this, but Kattica frowned.
"Do you hasten to move them because wary eyes have sight of you, or can you truly not extend them more fully?" she asked, deep worry settling across her brow.
"I am grateful for what I am given, Kattica, yet I cannot move with greater ease," he answered in a whisper.
"Something is wrong then," she said. "You should have greater motion."
"When I tried my freedom earlier, before I had this amulet, my movement was greater," he said.
"Was that when her talisman grew singed?" she asked with concern crossing her brow.
"Aye, though I know not how it came to be," he said in confusion looking still at his legs.
"Nor do I, though I have suspicion. Can you move with haste in this state?" she asked.
"I would try," Legolas said in answer.
"Good," she said, then she lowered her voice to nearly an imperceptible whisper as she glanced about and saw they were still watched from across the camp. She made the pretense of looking at his injuries. "I shall free you then when I know we are not watched. I will have to find a way to distract them. But please know, Legolas, you are in mortal danger. Greater than that anyone else in this camp, even your friend, Anborn. You must flee, for if you stay she will kill you and steal your heart as she will the heart of an unborn child's."
Legolas' eyes went wide at this revelation. "You are in danger as well then!"
"Not as great as yours would be. Without your heart, her spell cannot be cast."
"And so the same cannot be said for you? Flee, Kattica, now while you still may!" the Elf said, sudden panic in his voice.
"I intend to, but not without attempting to reach Mattias first. He too is in danger, as is your friend, Anborn, though as I said, not as great as you. And yes, I too am in danger for my child, though Bregus has told me there is another who may substitute in my stead," she said.
"Another? In this camp?" he asked allowing his eyes to search for the unsuspecting victim.
"Nay, not here. I suspect in your camp. Bregus did not say, but she looked rather pleased that it would be someone she need not know," Kattica offered.
Legolas' mind raced forward to the women he knew to be in their encampment. Surely it was not Arwen, for Legolas knew that many of the King and Queen's problems stemmed from their current lack of children. That left only
""
The word slipped out of him in a soft rasp. A shudder whipped through him as he realized the Lady of Ithilien faced wretched danger. He traced over the last several days and realized the symptoms were there, and that he had probably known, only he had not bothered to see. Eowyn was with child and she was in perilous danger! With sudden fear he realized she must be warned away!
Kattica went on, "I know not if it was real. It could have been just a means of foolery to keep me within her easy reach, but if true, even still, without you, the magic requiring both hearts may not be performed. Your friend may be saved if you flee."
Legolas thought it perhaps best not to point out that Arwen too was an Elf, for he suspected that the Gondor Queen's presence had not been discovered. Would this evil spell work with a heart that divined itself tied to mortal world? He could not know. He only knew that despite Kattica's words, there was great horror to be found should Faramir's or Eowyn's or even Arwen's identity be found. Or Aragorn's for that matter. The Elf could only imagine several dozen scenarios that could take place, from various means of ransom to murder, depending on the motivations and mood of their captor. So even if it were not as important to the girl, to Legolas it seemed it was important that Faramir too escape. They must all get away before the old woman found out these things.
"How does she mean to do this spell, Kattica? When? Where?" Legolas asked anxiously.
She sighed. "I know not these things. Again, it is my fault for thinking only of myself, for had I tried, surely I could have learned these things from her mind. Even now, while she is –"
The young woman cut herself off, and Legolas wondered at what she held in her thoughts. Then Kattica turned and looked at Legolas and said, "Do you think my soul can be protected from the tainting of this siren's call into darkness if I guard it with good moral intent?"
Legolas' brow furrowed in confusion. "I know not. But if I take your meaning correctly, I might suppose the answer to be yes. And even so, if I truly do understand what you pre-suppose, if I had I to save my friends by leaping into the Sea on their behalf, I would do so regardless the consequences. Is this what you mean?"
Kattica smiled genuinely, and the Elf could see this was the answer she so desired. "I know what I must do, Legolas."
"Tell me your plan, Kattica," he said, sensing danger in her confident demeanor.
The girl did not answer, instead looking toward one who approached from the other side of the camp. Without looking, Legolas could hear the lumbering steps of Gordash.
Before the man arrived she whispered, "I will return to free you and your friend and I will not fail you this time. Go along with my words now if this is to work."
Before Legolas could say anything further, the deep baritone of Gordash's voice entered their conversation. "You are lucky the dogs have not caught your scent lest you would find yourself baring the same fate as my brother," the large man stated as he approached.
"I think they may have learned their lesson and found me to be trustworthy and unassuming, unlike others," the girl answered looking with hard light into his eyes, irritation mingling in her answer.
"Perhapsor perhaps you have control over them by means of sorcery," he said, a note of disdain echoing within his own voice.
"I have never had need to use it before. Why would I do such a thing now?" she said scowling. She looked into his face before rising fully to her height. "I do not have time for word games. You think I have gone black. Very well. Be done with it then, Gordash, and tell me what it is you wish of me.
"Mattias seeks you out," he answered simply. "Will you come?"
"He cannot venture out on his own? Afraid is he?" she sneered.
"He – he wishes to speak with you privately," Gordash said. He briefly glanced at the Elf then turned away nervously. "He does not like that you dabble in mysterious activities. Darkness does not become you, wife of my brother."
Kattica's brow shot up. "Relegated to title only? Has it come to this? Then know this, brother of my husband, if I am a product of darkness I did not go there alone. This tribe flounders in a blackness that etches at all of our souls. Lest you forget in a less coherent moment, to which you seem extremely prone, your mother brought us to this. Try to remember this."
With shock, Legolas watched this small interaction. Such words were out of character for Kattica's diminutive presence, and certainly not typical for women of the Romany heritage. Apparently Gordash thought so too as his jaw fell slack to her words. But in a quick moment, Legolas realized it was an act, a part of her untested plan. She looked at him, narrowing her eyes almost imperceptibly, and he read her thoughts. She intended for him to know her words were falsity and she intended for Gordash and the others to fear her. She spoke. "And you be careful how you speak with me, Elf. I have means to cut out your tongue if I should choose. Remember I have been of aid to you when you offer words of vile retribution toward me."
Reading her, Legolas spat out, "I would not have need of aid were I not a captive of your filth! You and your people seem to think I magically appeared here before you. You forget I was taken by Bregus' sorcery against my will." He glanced at Gordash to see if any spark was lit. The man's face was wracked in confusion as if this thought was new to him and he was only hearing it now.
Kattica then laughed, a wicked laugh, much like one Bregus might cackle, and again he saw Gordash flinch as if he recognized it. Even Legolas was nearly convinced it was real. Without further reserve, she strode off in the direction of the other wagons calling out, "Take me to your brother," to the now almost-helpless bear of a man. Gordash scampered along, moving quick steps to catch up to the girl who was not much like a girl any longer.
Legolas smiled and offered a small Elven prayer for her as she disappeared from his sight. Despite her sudden confidence, he feared she would need all the help the Valar might offer.
Translations:
drai'bengo — Romany word for novice healers
"Daro! Daro, haundil! Lasto nin beth! Daro!" — "Stop! Stop, dogs! Listen to my words! Stop!"
"Manman, huanellon. Lammen nin golodh le. Lasto a daro!" — "Goodgood, my (dog) friends! You remember my voice. Listen and stop!"
"Beleg dholdraug, pedan le – lasto! Ú-farith si." — "I am speaking to you, mighty wolfhound – listen! You need not hunt here."
"Ú-farith si" – "There is nothing to hunt"
A/N: Um, er, Merry Christmas? Okay, okay, I'm late. It's a belated gift, but hey, some nationalities don't celebrate their mid-winter's feasting until January, so think of me as being on a different timeline. At least I made it before New Years. I have learned my lesson, though, and I have a resolution that should remedy any future mishaps like this one. Ready? I resolve never to promise an update by a certain date, but will hold true to updating as quickly as I can. There, that should do it. Thank you everyone for your patience. This chapter and the next several are taking a lot out of me, only because there are so many directions my outline can go and still lead to the same point. I have been struggling to find the best solution out of this maze and think I know where I am going with this at last.
Thank you also for wishing my family and I a lovely vacation. It was much needed. I have to give Disney credit for making their theme parks so incredibly geared toward joyous family experiences. My children were beyond happy and so much fuss was made over them by the entertainers that I couldn't help but shell over my hard earned bucks with a smile. Unfortunately, it rained a lot of the time, but being December, we didn't really expect to come home with suntans. I did come back to clients who felt the world might collide with some wayward deadline in my absence however, and so spent what I thought might be recovery time putting out fires and quelling panic-attacks and, in general, making the small places these people live within right again. *sigh* It killed my planned writing spree and put me into a serious rush to get everything done before the Holiday. Whew! I'm glad that is all over. So, there's my excuse.
Quick note while I am thinking about it. JastaElf's fic "Dark Leaf" has been unexplainably banished from ff.net. I could go into a long dissertation on the eggheads that run this site, but that would be moot as I think many of you already know I am not entirely pleased. Just know her story has been updated (Oh joy! Oh joy!) and you can find Chapter 14 at http://jastaelf.tripod.com/royalmirkwood/index.html .
On to the responses to reviewers:
Irena — I understand completely. I saw your posting on the Wayward Elves site and must send you my sympathy. Yikes! I hope all works out. Thank you for reviewing and I'm glad this story gives you joy.
JastaElf — Boy, you have been making up for lost time. Three new chapters. Three! Count them! And what with the Holidays and all, how did you do it? I'm glad you liked the last chapter. I think I needed to interject a little feminist rabble into this. After all, Tolkien at heart was quite a chauvinist really. He would leave us to believe that Arwen just sat around knitting banners in her off time. If I were she I would just about die of boredom if such were the case.
TreeHugger — Yeah, well, (sheepish look to see if the husband is about) they say you write from what you know, so I guess it is safe to say I have had an argument or two in my almost sixteen married years that has resembled this type of explosion. And while I love my own Aragorn with all my heart and soul, there are times I would like to tear his head off and serve it to a host of Balrogs, so dense can he be at times. I'm glad you could appreciate the humor in this.
HaloGatomon — And the message is also, there is no such thing as happily ever after. Just because Prince Charming (or King Elessar as this case may be) comes along and sweeps the maiden off her feet, the adventure is not over. It is only starting really. Marriage is hard, no doubt, but being able to communicate and to be heard make it an easier journey to take. That, and being true both to yourself and the one you love are strong things to hold.
Mercredi — Oh thank you. I was so afraid people would read Arwen as just being a b**** and Aragorn as being a dimwit. So much of what happens in marital conflict comes about from misunderstanding and holding things in. It is incredibly important that communications stay open (I now put on my Ithilien — advisor to love hat), which is really what Aragorn and Arwen's problem has been. If you have that, and you truly love, compromises can always be found.
Partners in Crime — "man ego"? I love that. Yeah, it's hard to hate him — oh, those eyes *swoonish feelings take over*. Yet, even Aragorn needs to be put in his place from time to time. I can think of no one who can do it better than Arwen. After all, she spent many years waiting for him to get his act together. I think if anyone deserves to have a temper tantrum, it is she.
Fliewatuet — And what man truly does not fear the scorn of a women. Heck, I know women who fear the scorn of other women, so it's justified really. You are right though. Old habits die hard, and Arwen may need to slap him around on an occasion or two just to keep Aragorn in line.
Gwyn — Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed it. I really didn't intend it to be a silly chapter, but somehow a lightness came out while I was writing it and it seemed to want to be funny. I think even Arwen and Aragorn will be able to laugh at it in hindsight.
SpaceVixenX — I still have more tender moments ahead and much, much treachery. The next many chapters will be filled with lots of action. Stay tuned, and thank you for reviewing.
PuterPatty — I could not agree with you more, and I have made a mental note to make sure my Aragorn doesn't become the Aragorn of Irena's story for his reasons on wanting children. Still, most people have children without realizing the ready-made personality they are bringing into the world and their motivations are usually selfish. That is not always a bad thing if they have good parenting skills to back them up (personally I don't know if I would have become a mother if my reasons weren't my own – I certainly can say I do not love every child I have ever met though I would give up my soul for my own). I'll make sure Aragorn's reasoning is clear in the end.
Violet in a Mist — Oh thank you, and thank you for reviewing. I love seeing new faces here. While I have loved other stories that show Aragorn and Arwen having kids right away, I needed to pipe in my own two bits. Aragorn ruled for 120 years, so it would seem rather like he didn't need an heir-apparent immediately. Still, you have to imagine he would have been facing some pressure, and probably more than a few comments, about his wife not being able to bare children. I've seen it before in RL, and that alone can kill the ease in which a woman may conceive. Make it a royal baby, and I can understand why Arwen might have some problems in this area.
Mari — Gosh, you have me blushing. You are right in so many ways. Aragorn has forgotten how to take risks, and ruling and protecting so many has made him lean toward the middle ground. That may work for a kingdom, but he has sacrificed himself in the bargain, and Arwen suffers for it in turn. Of course, being Aragorn, he will silently just take it, but I could not allow Arwen to go along with it as well. After all, she already has sacrificed her immortality. Now she has to give up her persona too? Uh-uh, I say. Humor seemed the appropriate means of telling this as there is so much already happening around these people that I did not need to add to their tension. From a broad perspective, its just a husband and wife arguing about how to get out of a hole, which I find very funny. But as we narrow in we see it is two people suffering for very personal reasons, and isn't that the reality of any scene like this?
Littlefish — Patience, patience. To give you everything would mean month long delays between posts. I have six characters here plus a few additional non-canons that I have to balance. Giving them all equal attention means pretty much devoting myself to one scene at a time. I promise though, I will not leave without any of them. While I am currently writing from Kattica's perspective at the moment, I may save that chapter for the one after next and give you Gimli coming up. Hard to say, as I had said, because everything is happening simultaneously, and not just little incidents, but life-saving, risk-taking events. Stay tuned. I'm so glad you liked this one.
Princess ArWen of sMirkwood — Ha! You've got that one right. And my favorite part in that last chapter is how men in general completely fall apart when a woman cries. Don't believe me? Watch them some time. They melt. Sometimes they become ballistic over it, sometimes they leave in a big huff, sometimes they attempt to tune it out, and sometimes they just cave in on themselves, but no doubt about it, it nearly destroys them every time. Not that I condone it as a weapon really. It can be abused and the results aren't always what one is hoping. Still, I had to put it in.
Thundera Tiger — I couldn't even think about Bregus while I was at DW, but you are right, I could only take so much of "It's a Small World" before my teeth started to hurt. Thank you for the compliments. There are still some writing challenges I need to take on, but writing an entire chapter from a single unshifting perspective was definitely worthwhile. Writing from a god-like perspective is another for me, and I've yet to manage that, but I'mworking on it and try to sprinkle it in here and there from time to time. I have to add that I loved writing this chapter as you put it, one might see a battle. Despite the fact that it was just a husband and wife having an argument, I like to think the tongue can be a very barbed and dangerous weapon, and tactical maneuvers are as skilled here as on a field of play. Thank you for the very gracious review.
RainyDayz — Oh, but I do believe woman are very powerful. Men sometimes (and some women too) make the mistake of thinking that strength is physical. I think it is mental. The men I most admire are not the ones who flaunt their physical traitss (though I will admit to drooling over a great body just like everyone else), but the ones who regard women as equals. I thought it was time Arwen enforced this message.
Kayleigh-talitha — It was real for you then? Oh, thank you. Its funny, but it spilled out so quickly and so easily, but when it came time to polish and edit, I nearly rewrote everything from scratch. Again, and again, and again. After a while of doing that, the spontaneity is lost to me, and I have to hope it still comes through. Thank you for reviewing and telling me so.
Nancing Elf — Aw, you know this is not the first time I've witnessed a marital debate. The point is that despite this, they still come out loving one another. It is possible, as you, another survivor of a long marriage, are well aware. Thank you for allowing me to get into the characters. I could tell this story from the surface, and many people do, but there is no meat in that for me. What these people think and feel is the real drama to me. I'm glad you appreciate it. You are right about Aragorn's friends too. Can you imagine Legolas taking such pandering? Aragorn would have been slapped silly the first day. Gosh, this makes me believe Arwen is incredibly patient. But then don't all woman in our society take this to a certain extent. Some even come to expect it (I hate women like that and how they set the rest of us back to 1954). Another man, if he had to live it (ala Legolas in "For the Good of Gondor") would be infuriated by it.
Shezuil — You were a chapter behind when I last caught you, and had fallen out of your chair. I hope you are all better now. This last chapter was designed to bring smiles and a few tender "aw's", so I hope it worked to get you off the floor. Send me a review and let me know if everything is unbroken.
Bryn — She may have been out to get him, but think about it. She had been letting this build for some twelve years. I'd be ready to explode if I had been smiling nicely that entire time. Actually, I'm sure she has probably said something to him before, only this time she was able to use metaphors to get the message out. You are right, one should never take a battle at face value. There are always underlying layers. So you see now why I was so fascinated with your take on the elven reproduction system. Yep, Arwen is feeling just a little too stressed to have babies right now. Come back in a year or two.
Al — Ah, yes, so you see the mystery at play. There are so many times that I have had to explain to my husband why a woman might be upset by some circumstance. He just doesn't get it. And men, if you will allow me to generalize them (like I haven't already?), tend to look at everything from a surface level. It amazes me that they can be astute enough to plan such fabulous bluffs and shifts in sports, but miss them completely when they are played out in RL. Well, there is hope. My husband is way better than he used to be and after being together for twenty years (married for 16), he is slowly starting to understand the nuances one might call "womanly".