Author: Mirrordance
Title: Exile
Summary: An elf is exiled as a suspect to his own brother's murder. A young king goes out into the Wild. Two warriors cross paths and embark on a common adventure as one seeks to escape his past and the other to reclaim it. How Aragorn and Legolas met.
* * *
PART 4
Strider's eyes snapped open when he felt the cool, smooth hands of his elven companion tighten about his face, right over his mouth. His heart pounded furiously and he struggled with the final clutches of his sleep-induced confusion, trying to calm himself before his warrior's instincts lashed out in defense.
~Do not make a sound,~ Legolas said to him in a low voice, ~There is danger afoot.~
The elf felt the human relax slightly, and watched as his eyes registered sense and awareness. Taking this as a safe cue, Legolas removed his hand from the human's curiously warm face and concentrated on the orcs he had heard mulling about outside.
It did not take long for Strider to hear their heavy footfalls too, and the distant, weighted pounding soon became sharper scurries as they came nearer to the opening of the tiny cave.
The two warriors tensed as a pair of thick, orc legs became visible from the cave's mouth.
Too close, Strider thought, his fingers twining about his trusty sword in the very likelihood of a confrontation. He did not like their odds at all; an injured elf and a weary human backed up against a tiny cave against a healthy patrol of blood-thirsty orcs…
He glanced at the elf, wondering what he was thinking. But he was much like his kin in the face of danger, face devoid of emotions other than steely cold determination.
When the orc stooped and peered into the cave, Legolas pulled it inward by the side of its head, and slid a white dagger across its neck. It did not even have a chance to cry out or grunt. Its body didn't even fall dully to the ground, for the elf caught it and hid it with them in the cave, its stench filling the small space instantly.
"It's a scout," Strider said quietly as he pulled its heavy legs inward, hiding it completely. Legolas in turn covered the bloodied ground by snow with his hands. Then the two of them sat tensely in wait again.
Another pair of legs appeared in their line of vision. It was saying something in its own speech, probably looking for his companion. It was also sniffing at the air, and the slain orc's blood was hard to miss.
As its predecessor did, this orc stooped and peered into the cave too, and Legolas and Strider did as they had before, except it now made for a crowd inside the small cave, two full grown men and a pair of orc corpses.
"What now?" Strider grunted, smiling wryly at the elf, "We can't fit all of them in here."
"Do you have a better plan?" Legolas asked him gamely.
"I don't like being backed into a corner with a pair of corpses," said Strider.
"I suppose you want to fight them in the open," Legolas mused, "All right."
Maneuvering around their first kills, the elf and human crawled from their hiding place and readied their stances. They barely had a breath of peace before an arrow whistled between them, and they dodged it cleanly.
Legolas drew his bow and shot an arrow in the direction from which the first strike came. He knew his opponent fell with its dying screech and thump to the ground. But it was just a minor victory, and he had to turn his attention to the other orcs that sprung from the woodworks.
The battle turned close-contact in moments, and he holstered his bow and turned to his twin white blades. Covering his back keenly was the human, his sword singing reassuringly. Stroke by stroke the man's opponents fell, and those who were not killed scurried away, probably for cover of the deeper woods because the sun was beginning to shine. The two of them soon found themselves the only ones standing.
Coolly, the human wiped at his sword, surveying his surroundings cautiously. The elf, on the other hand, busied himself with retrieving his used arrow.
"How economical of you," Strider commented, following the elf and looking over his shoulder.
"Each one counts," Legolas said, pulling the arrow from the dead orc's eye.
"Good shot."
Legolas glanced up at the human, and nodded towards his own set of easy kills. "You are not bad either. You are very comfortable with your sword."
"One must be," said Strider, "In times like these."
The two made their way back to the cave's mouth, though they made no move to enter it. They merely stood before it pensively, and in Strider's eye, the elf almost looked to be saying goodbye to a strange old friend.
"I was
leaving anyway," he said quietly, turning away from the cave and beginning to
march on, "And I never much liked caves."
Except for that one, must have been the wordless conclusion to the statement. But Strider said nothing of it, as he had been saying nothing of all the things that begged to be asked, and said.
* * *
They walked on, the elf not showing any signs of his injury from the day before, making Strider wonder if what he had witnessed in the night was just some kind of a dream…
And speaking of dreams… the elf was wide awake when he slept and again when he stirred awake, and Strider wondered if he had even slept at all. He, on the other hand, seemed to have slept for ages. Either he was truly unbelievably tired, or he felt particularly reassured by the other's presence. Perhaps it was both. Either way, the sun seemed to be struggling to shine through the grayness of the winter sky and its thick, ominous clouds by now. Dull as all things looked in this dim light, it was light nonetheless and he found he had slept into a new day.
"How was your rest?" Strider asked.
"It was fine," replied the elf, "Though I am certain yours was much better. Your snoring disrupted the night."
"You lie!" laughed Strider.
The elf's dancing eyes widened, feigning truthfulness that was a lost effort to the laughing human.
"Terrible!" Strider commented, shaking his head, "Terrible liar."
"On the contrary," said Legolas, turning more serious at a not-too-distant and hardly pleasant recollection, "I've been told I am quite good at it."
Strider caught the change in mood easily, and matched his seriousness. "Lying is different from keeping your feelings hidden, Lesandro. Of the latter you are undoubtedly good."
Legolas' brows furrowed, "But nothing much gets past you, Strider. You seem to be able to tell things very quickly."
"Well I suppose," Strider considered, "I grew up with elves and I know for a fact my physical prowess is limited in comparison. I had to compensate. I am really rather proud to say I'm much cleverer than my brothers."
"I wouldn't be surprised," Legolas agreed.
"Have you ever met a human other than me before?" Strider asked.
"A few," replied Legolas, "Well not met. But I've come across them. What of it?"
"I just wondered," said Strider, "Here, in Mirkwood?"
"No," said Legolas, "Our Realm is generally avoided. And also highly protected, it does not encourage visits or trade. I've seen a few in all my journeys with my brother and with a friend of mine. I met one in Bree, and sighted one in Imladris."
Strider's eyes widened, "Imladris, you say?"
"Yes," replied Legolas, "I bore a message from my father to its Lord. It was a very long time ago. Before you were born, without a doubt."
"Were you friends with Lord Elrond's children then?" asked Strider, curious. He had, after all, grown up in Imladris and never heard of Lesandro.
"Loosely," replied Legolas, evasive, even as he corrected his first answer, "We used to be."
Strider wondered what that meant, and he was on the brink of asking when the elf frowned, saying, "The winds are getting harder. I am suddenly regretting the loss of our shelter. I feel a storm coming."
"I suppose we should hurry on," said Strider, "My companion."
"I know," said Legolas, removing his coat, "Can you pick up the pace, human?"
"Oh don't slow yourself down on my account," said Strider wryly, wondering what the elf was doing.
"I am quite serious," said Legolas, "I noticed this morn that your face was warm."
"I can't see what one has to do with the other," confessed Strider.
"Are you ill?" Legolas asked him, not bothering to mince his words, "I've heard it happens."
"I am just weary," Strider said, "my road was long," he winced, "It still is."
"And your warm face?" prodded Legolas.
"Perhaps you've just not held a human before," Strider said, though his weariness and fleeting attention was beginning to make more sense.
Legolas looked at him skeptically, thrust the coat his way. "Take it."
Strider shook his head, "I have one, thank you."
"I have no need of it," Legolas insisted, "We handle the cold much better."
"Well I am fine," Strider said stubbornly, beginning to feel embarrassed, "Truly. You needn't."
"Listen," said Legolas, making his tone colder, trying to incite the human's logic rather than offering him a kindness that the elf knew would humiliate him to accept, "I would rather have you carrying my coat, than me carrying your slack, heavy human body in case you fall on your face."
Strider frowned, taking the coat, annoyed. "Crudely put."
Though when he slipped the coat on, he did feel much better, and he let the issue rest.
"Thank you," he said belatedly, now embarrassed over having rejected the offer in the first place.
"You're welcome," Legolas said, leading the way. The embarrassment of the human was one that he understood well and therefore wanted to soothe. His own warrior's way was to keep his weaknesses hidden, as he was doing now. He initially meant to let the human keep his pride; after all, fevers were oft more uncomfortable than harmful. But the situation has changed and the coming blizzard and their quicker pace upped the stakes, and he would not gamble the human's life for his stubbornness.
They trudged on, Strider ensconced in the coats that smelled of wind and trees, curiously subtly scented with leaves in a forest already devoid of it at the heart of winter.
"The coat smells of you," Strider commented.
"Are you complaining?" the elf asked, genuinely insulted.
"I didn't say it was a bad thing," Strider clarified, "Only that it does."
"I see," Legolas said, glancing at the human worriedly.
"Don't look at me like that," sighed Strider.
Legolas did as he was told, kept his eyes on the road. Though he said he would pick up his pace and get them to the Istari sooner, he slowed somewhat, worried for his companion. It was not lost on the human, who decided he would take the lead and show the blasted elf how a human can still get things done. Shaking his head in dismay, Legolas decided to quicken his pace; there was no convincing the stubborn human to do otherwise, so they might as well just get to wherever it is they're going quickly.
Suddenly though, the human seemed to remember something and slowed his pace, this time lagging behind the elf. Concerned, the elf slowed down too, and walked alongside him cautiously, ready for any eventuality.
Legolas couldn't have known it, but Strider remembered the elf's injury, and decided he would slow down for the elf's sake, even as the elf decided he would slow down for the ailing human's sake.
They both said nothing for an hour, maybe two, and the wordless game went on, until Strider began to chuckle at the ridiculousness of the situation.
"You're delirious," Legolas said, aghast.
"On the contrary," said Strider, "I see things more clearly than you do."
"Perhaps we should rest awhile," the elf suggested.
"Yes, of course," winked Strider, "As much for me as for your ankle."
Legolas' eyes narrowed and he pursed his lips, comprehending the situation at last. "Well. As you said. Don't slow yourself on my account."
TO BE CONTINUED…