I am sooo sorry! So very very sorry for the late update. I went to a friend's birthday party last night and ended up spending the night unexpectedly. I apologize greatly. *gets down on knees* Please forgive me!!
" Leaves of Glass "
Chapter 8 - Nightly Rendezvous
Strider sat silently in the tent he now shared with Torlin, the potion maker. He watched with glowering eyes as the old man created their supper in a pot. But the man seemed to be paying no heed to his angry glare.
"You knew." The Ranger finally blurted out, no longer able to sit in the silence, swiftly rising from the stool. "You knew what it would do to him. You knew about the connection." Legolas' screams still echoed in his ears, reverberating off his scull, each echo demanding an answer, an action, penance for their existence.
"Yes." Torlin said, his back still turned to the young man.
"And the king's plans... did you know of those as well?" Strider started pacing, his booted feet kicking away piles of clothes and empty glass vials.
"Yes." The old man said again, his head turning slightly, his eyes watching the Ranger's angry pace across the floor. "But what would you have me do, boy? Charge in there sword drawn and demand his release?"
Strider stopped his frenzied walk, the man's truthful words quieting the echo. "You have the poison." He said, turning towards his mentor, his gray eyes imploring. "You could have killed them long ago. You could have ended all this, before we..." His words trailed off, his eyes falling to the ground.
Torlin shook his head, stirring the bland contents in the pot. "The poison is not yet finished."
Strider sat back down, the breath leaving his body in a heavy sigh. Brash, Elladan called him. Human, he called himself. No elf would be so impetuous. "Why not?" He asked quietly, his eyes tracing the patterns of the bent grass at his feet.
"There is one ingredient missing. As it is now, it would kill the Arandant. But with their deaths would come those of the slaves as well. There is a connection between them and their master's also, though is does not work the same as that between you prince and the king. The missing ingredient will sever the connection before it kills the evil ones."
Yes. He thought. 'Brash' fit him perfectly. "What is the ingredient? How can we complete the poison?"
The old man found two bowls beneath the debris on the cabinet, inspecting them before ladling the stew from the pot into them. He handed one to Strider along with a spoon, then sat on the disordered bed. "The last ingredient," He said through a mouthful of the stew. "Is by far the most difficult to obtain. I have been trying ever since I discovered the poison, almost 8 years ago."
"What could possibly be that complicated to acquire?" Strider asked, stirring the stew in his bowl, his stomach angrily informing him that he did not want to eat. His hands seemed to ache for no apparent reason.
Torlin looked up from his stew, the same dark look in his eyes that always meant something bad. "The last ingredient is blood... from the king."
*
The young Ranger walked sedately through the camp of the Arandant, his eyes blank, his body moving as if controlled by a puppeteer. He passed many other slaves, each acting the same as he, though for them it was no act. Cloaked figures were everywhere, watching the slaves, talking amongst themselves. Strider watched silently as a young woman was led mechanically through a tent doorway, being led like a dog on a leash. A shudder ran up the Ranger's spine and he quickly turned away.
As he walked he thought. But for each thought came a curse, for each was as useless as the last. He discarded a thousand ideas, a thousand plans, a thousand ways to end the suffering of these people. How was he supposed to get blood from the king? He was a king!
So Strider walked aimlessly through the camp, no one paying him heed as he mulled over ways to destroy their way of life. He laughed bitterly to himself as he walked, wondering why great adventures never seemed to work out the way they were supposed to.
Who would have thought that he, foster son of Elrond Half-elven, captain of the Dunedain, supposed heir to the throne of Gondor, would have ended up no more than a slave to his own people.
He thought of all the people who had protected him through his life. His father, brother's, his nanny Ilithien before her death and his mother long ago before hers. And for the first time in his short years he truly felt like he had grown up. For there was no one to help him now.
True, Torlin was there, but only as a guide. The old man had made it very clear that it was up to him to finish this task. Up to him to rescue his friend and the other slaves. He didn't know if he was ready for this.
'But you have no choice.' He reminded himself.
Rowdy laughter filled his ears as he walked past a campfire. He heard the insults of drunken men. He didn't duck the clod of dirt that burst on his shoulder and forced the heat from his face as he continued the slow walk through the camp. More laughter followed him as he went.
Hours later, or perhaps minutes, Strider couldn't tell which, nor did he care, he came across the same brightly colored tent he had entered earlier that day. The two sentries were still placed at the front entrance, but they set idly, watching the fire in front of them. They paid no heed to him as he walked past.
He walked down several tent lengths then took a sharp turn, then another until he was going back the way he had just came. He walked silently, slowly by the backs of the tents until he reached the one that had become the prince's prison. He looked quickly around, searching the shadows of the nearby tents. But he saw nothing, so he knelt beside the tent and lifted the heavy material from the crushed grass until there was an opening large enough for him to crawl through.
Inside the tent was dark, the lamps had been turned out and no moonlight could make its way through the thick roof. Strider blinked several times, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness, then he quickly crawled over to the bed where a still figure lay.
One of the prince's hands hung over the side of the bed, the pale skin glowing with the elf's natural luminance. Dark, dried blood covered the dirty bandage and trailed down his long fingers, leading to a stain in the rug beneath. Strider gently picked up the wounded hand, cradling it in his palm as he stood, then sat on the bed.
He looked down at the elf's face, the light of his skin betraying his closed eyes. The Ranger reached out with his free hand and gently smoothed away the crease of worry from between his dark eyebrows. Legolas shifted beneath his touch, a grimace pulling down the corners of his dark lips. Tears stung Strider's eyes at the pain and fear that radiated from the thin body.
The man gently placed the elf's wounded hand on the soft furs that covered the bed, then stood quietly and crossed the room to the chest that sat beside the large wooden desk. Inside he found clean shirts; these he tore into strips to use for new bandages. Beside the bed was a pitcher of clean water.
For the next half hour he carefully cleaned the blood from the newly opened wounds and rebound the injured hands. He poured the rest of the water into an elaborately carved wooden cup and tipped a small amount into the elf's mouth.
Legolas woke when he swallowed the cool liquid, but his eyes were glazed and Strider wondered if he really knew where he was. The elf's tongue snaked out and licked his dry lips, his wide blue eyes watching the Ranger cautiously. Strider smiled softly and placed the cup back at his lips; Legolas drank voraciously. Once the cup was empty he lay back on the pillows, breathing heavily, his eyes gazing at the ceiling; but Strider knew they saw something else. He had seen the look many times before in the elf's eyes.
When the Ranger reached for the platter of fruit the elf's eyes focused on him once again, their deep blue depths holding a look of distrust. Strider wondered at this for a moment, worrying that he had done something wrong, but when Legolas' eyes turned toward the plate he realized that, for once, it was not he the elf was wary of.
Strider looked down at the wilting fruit curiously. It seemed well enough, the only problem was the discoloration caused by sitting in the heat for too long. He shrugged, an impish grin stretching his mouth, and winked at the elf before taking a bite of one of the strawberries.
He made a show of tasting the fruit, chewing it carefully, rolling it around on his tongue. After a minute he smiled and picked up another, then held it to the elf's lips. Legolas, who had watched the scene with a small smirk of his own, scowled and pursed his lips together, his eyes glinting with something the young Ranger had never seen in them before. Not from you, they said.
Strider shrugged again and moved as if to leave, but a small sound of protest, that was not quite a whine, turned him back. He raised one eyebrow at the prince, a smirk pulling at his lips. Legolas glared at him for several moments, then stuck his tongue out at the Ranger.
Strider's smile widened and it took some effort for him to keep the laughter at bay. When he finally brought the strawberry back to Legolas' mouth the prince took a bite, his eyes dancing.
Strider stayed until most of the fruit, along with the bread and honey, had been consumed by the prince, with a few 'test bites' going to the human who was rather tired of travel rations himself. Before he left he helped Legolas sit and rebraided his unkempt hair, an issue of pride he knew the prince held, using a comb he found in the chest to untangle the messy locks before weaving them carefully back into the warriors braids.
As he was lifting the tent-back to leave Legolas smiled in thanks then closed his eyes to escape to the realm of elven dreams. Strider smiled in turn and silently promised to be back the next night.
*
When Legolas woke the next morning his mind was hazy, memories of pain and a horrible truth echoing through his consciousness and glimpses of a pleasant dream tried to fight to be remembered. He saw the stains of blood on the bed-furs and a shudder ran up his spine.
But when he saw the half eaten fruit on the bedside table the distant dream became a reality and he smiled.
To Be Continued...
Well... that was an interesting little piece of fluff. Wonder where the hell that came from. Anywhoo, hope you enjoyed it despite the sappiness of it all.
And just to let everyone know, Viggo Mortensen had a photo exhibit in LA, which is right on the way to my sister's house, whom I will be visiting soon. And I was so excited when I heard and I was already planning how I could make a stop to see it. But no! It was up and then gone already by the time I heard about it. I was so upset. I am DYING to go to one of his exhibits. He is SO TALENTED!! Uhg! And it's already gone. Why would you have a 3 day show? Why? What's the point in that? He needs to do one in Seattle. Seriously. I'd empty my bank account just to go see it. Whether or not he was there. I'm so mad!
Until next time!
Adrienne
silvertoekee - Ah, but that kind of trouble is so much fun. At least when it's inflicted upon our favorite elf and Ranger. *grins evilly* And thank you for the encouragement. I'm glad it's still turning out well despite the... issues, it's having.
Deana - Well thank you very much.
Emiri-chan - Well goodness. Obviously I've made someone happy. Wow. I haven't had a review that enthusiastic in a while. And I am always up for new LotR stories (especially when it has to do with elf-torture, because you're right, it's an art) so write away my dear. I'm always glad to encourage new author's as well. The more the merrier I always say! And thank you so much for counting me one of your favorites. And comparing me to Cassia... that's a complimant to end all compliments. Than you!
Templa Otmena - Ew, english. Gross. I'm sorry this is late too. I hope I didn't bum you out by not giving you your reward. And thank you for the reassurance. I keep convincing myself this story is bad because it's coming out so weird. lol. As they say... you are your own worst critic. And with me, that's very very true! Hope you did well on your exam!
LegolasLover2003 - I do that too! I have a great idea for the ending, then I have to write all this crap just to get there! That's how most of the ideas for my stories start. They have a beginning and an end, but no middle! And I'm sorry about our dear elf's poor hands. I just keep torturing you with that don't I? I promise they'll get better eventually. And with your little prediction of the future... stop that! You're not allowed to know any of that yet! *grins*
Estel Elven Enchantress - Thank you very much. After my little self-pity fest I've gotten a lot of people telling me that I'm doing good despite the uncharacteristic writing style, so I feel better now. *grins*
Kit Cloudkicker - Forgetting you?!?! *gasp* Never! How have I forgotten you? I'm so sorry! Tell me what I did and I'll make it better I promise! And as why the evil man wants Mirkwood. I think I know that part. lol. I'm not sure yet. But maybe...
SilverKnight7 - Thank you!
MG87 - I was half expecting to come home today to an angry e-mail from you. I was frightened. *wipes sweat from forehead* lol. And yes... my muses. I'm not very happy with them right now. *shouts of 'help us' are heard from the background* Shut up you! *smiles sweetly*
Allyrien Chantel de Montreve - Yes, yes he does.
FrodoBaggins87 - Yeah, I suppose it is. But I'm not really one for the fluffy stuff. Despite the gooey mush you just experienced in this chapter. It won't happen again, I assure you.
cherryfaerie - lol. Sorry I confused you there. I wanted it to be all dramatic though. *grins* And what story is this that you are talking about? I'm sorry, I'm a spacecadet 99% of the time and right now my brain is giving me nothing. Could you please explain?
the proud canadian - Thank you, I'm glad.
Gwyn - You know... you come up with the best ideas. lol.
Kitsune - Kay.
Cosmic Castaway - You know... you scare me sometimes. :)
BashirXena - Well, because he can't read Legolas' thoughts. The connection is more of a physical one. So unless Aragorn had touched him or something, he's still in the dark.
Ellenillor - lol. That's cool, chica. I was kinda wondering what happened to you. You were so constant about reviewing the last one then just... poof. Nada. I hope you enjoy it when you get to it. And by the way, your review made me laugh. Thanks. lol.
