A/N: Your patience has been admirable.
Chapter 6
The Elf, for after everything she had endured, she still had to remind herself often that she remained Elven, had been observing this horrible display from the safety and comfort of the trees above and had watched in fascination as this Man had been waylaid beneath her high perch, tied up and left alone. She had become intrigued by him as he had quietly sung through the night in his pain-roughened voice even as she had sensed the waves of fear emanating from his being. It was not long before six of the smaller black creatures had returned to him, showing by their actions that they clearly held very little regard for his well-being. Knowing from experience that the black ones held nothing but evil inside of them, she had continued to observe as an even larger one had arrived, obviously demanding something from the Man that the smaller ones had captured and beaten. She had sensed the Man's heartbeat as the uruk had interrogated him, a frantic pounding within his chest that increased both in speed and volume as he was dangled from a tree branch like some macabre decoration from a midwinter celebration.
Years ago she would have immediately interrupted this abuse, but it had been so long since she had encountered anyone who had meant her anything besides ill, she found that she had no will to interfere with the natural order of things in this matter. It was none of her concern anyway. But she was displeased that the black ones were killing the other one slowly by inches. Having endured her own ordeal, she believed that death should be dealt swiftly and with purpose, not doled out one small morsel at a time. Death should be dealt without pleasure as well, and these creatures were obviously enjoying themselves. Unable to help herself, she dropped silently to a lower branch for a better look. She admired the Man's strength, surprised that he yet had some fight left within him as she saw one of the black ones fall over and squeak in discomfort. Without warning, one of the Man's evil little captors ran him through with its sword, silencing his heart for good.
The Elf tilted her head to the side a bit in surprise and confusion at her own reaction as the Man's lifeblood slowly seeped into the ground, for the evil ones had seemed content merely to play with their prey like a group of cats with a large rat, but now they had killed him, and despite the fact that his death had been merciful after all he had been forced to endure, she realized that she was angered by his end. Silently drawing her black knives with gloved hands, she dropped to the ground stealthily, and before any of the orcs had a chance to react, she had slit all of their throats, taking no satisfaction in their deaths, only doing what she felt was right, as she wiped their black blood upon the dead leaves at her feet.
Glancing around her, she resheathed her blades, stepping over the corpses, making certain that all were dead. She felt a flicker of regret that the Man had died as well, since there had been some good in him that had made itself known to her as she had seen the torment that he had been forced to endure. Kneeling next to him, she pulled the clumsy orcish blade from his body, tossing it aside. Without knowing why, she gently turned him over and examined his lifeless features, his battered face now slack beneath shoulder-length black hair. She felt an emptiness inside herself since his spirit had been so brutally subdued. With a soft curse upon her lips, she drew off her gloves, took a deep, steadying breath, and laid her bare hands upon his sallow skin, closing her eyes to better concentrate, waiting for it.
She hadn't done this in so long that she was unsure that it would still work, but she waited, unmoving, for a few minutes, before at last the familiar feeling welled up within her, the faint amber-colored light enveloping both of her hands and her charge's body. It was some minutes after that before he finally took a sudden, deep, shuddering breath, and then he was coughing weakly, his lungs drawing breath and his heart beating once again as the sword wound slowly vanished from his flesh, leaving only a faint scar of the exit wound upon the flesh of his chest.
The Elf, shivering with effort, opened her eyes and carefully removed her hands as the spark of his life returned to him, and then, hunching over him protectively, she waited for the pain to fade from her own body. As much as the healing of the sword wound had anguished her, she could only imagine how badly that it must have hurt him when it had been inflicted. Again, she marveled at his strength as it was not long before he managed to open his pain-filled silver-grey eyes, glancing hazily up at her, his lips moving as if he were trying to speak. She leaned even closer to him, trying to catch his words, and before she realized what he was doing, he had firmly clutched her bare hand within his own. Instantly her pain grew exponentially as his decreased, the healing light stealing her strength and giving it to him. For a split second their minds were as one, each seeing the other's thoughts with startling clarity.
Without considering the consequences of her actions, the Elf jerked her hand out of his grasp, and at the instantly broken contact, his pain recoiled within him. He cried out wordlessly, lost in agony, clutching weakly, blindly at the empty air around himself. The Elf cried silent tears of pain as well, her strength nearly spent by this mistake. As quickly as she could, she pulled her black leather gloves back on, and then tried to soothe him through her own haze of agony. He quieted quickly, somehow knowing that silence was best, though he didn't open his eyes again. She could sense fear in him now, and she did what she could to ease his heart, whispering softly to him in Sindarin, bidding him to be patient, for she could, and indeed, she intended to take all of his pain from him, but not all at once. He seemed to understand her words as he nodded slightly before falling into a faint.
He didn't know how lucky he was that she hadn't killed him again by pulling away from him like that. She had miscalculated his reaction, little realizing how desperate he would be for a friendly and soothing touch upon his skin. She gently stroked his face with her gloved hand and curled up close to him, sharing her body heat with him as they both slowly recovered. Soon, however, she heard approaching footfalls through the underbrush. Torn between hiding herself and protecting the ranger, she reluctantly retreated to the trees, knowing that despite her current weakness, she still should be able to protect him well enough if the noise was caused by an enemy.
A few minutes later, another Man entered her field of vision, and she was quite certain that he had been sent to look for the one that she had just aided. She waited to see if her charge would be found, and indeed, this newly-arrived Man found him quickly, his concern very apparent from the speed with which he moved.