***Long delay again, sorry, but double length to make up for it! Hope the fight scene's not too lame and the fluff isn't too fluffy - it's all for you, Taheg :P Oh, and I've changed chapter 13 a little, so you may want to go back and read that. Nothing important, just me being vain :) and I'm gradually fixing the html on all the previous chapters, thanks for your patience.***
Three down, thought Aragorn grimly, glad to feel the bow solid and tensed in his hands, an arrow ready at the string. A patrol of some sort. Looking for us? Or her? Aragorn swiftly followed the path that the fourth man had taken with his eyes, and realised with a sickening jolt that he had gone straight towards where Lora was hiding. Looking for her.
Lora had knelt in the bushes, burning with frustration and fear at not knowing what was going on, or being able to do anything about it. The silence crept over her, making her skin prickle, and finally she tentatively stretched herself up to ease the ache in her legs, and peeked over the top of the bush. Suddenly something yanked her backwards, and she was swung round, her back pulled against a man's chest, harsh breathing in her ear, an arm in clad in rank-smelling hide pressed over her mouth. Instantly she was dragged from behind to prevent her struggling, and she backpedalled furiously to get her feet on the ground again, biting in vain at the thick waxy folds over her mouth. Finally she found a foothold, and kicked up her heel hard, between where she guessed her captor's legs to be. He made a noise like an angry dog, and his tight grip around her head loosened just long enough for her to pull free, and she turned, locked her hands together tightly, and swung them with the weight of her whole body against the side of his face. Still preoccupied with the pain in his groin, he was taken off guard and staggered sideways, and by the time he could look up Lora was running and bending low as an arrow whistled over her head, and buried itself with a crack in the man's skull.
"That was amazing! Those three didn't even see you coming! And did you see the way I kicked him!" Lora waved her hands around wildly, aware that she was babbling, but unable to stop, as the ranger tried to hold back a smile. Adrenaline sparkled through her veins like sunlight, making her lightheaded, and she spun away laughing in the fresh brightness of the forest, drunk with their victory and her freedom. Her delight was so infectious, her smile so darkly beautiful, that Aragorn suddenly not see a reason not to give into it; he laughed to see her, and he too suddenly felt happy. She staggered towards him helpless with laughter, the trees wheeling around her, and held out her arms to steady herself. The ranger caught her and spun her around, despite her giggling shriek of protest, and then with his hands round her waist lifted her up, and Lora swam dizzily in the green water-like light of the forest that hung around them, feeling that without him there she would fall into the sky.
It seemed like an eternity before he pulled her down, his arms hardly aching, and set her on the unsteady earth again. Aragorn was laughing so much now at her attempts to keep from sliding off the floor that when her legs gave way he collapsed with her, and she lay with her head on his shaking chest, his fingers entwined in her hair, as the treetops high above her gradually slowed their spinning. Skin prickling with the heat under his heavy cloak, his face covered in sweat and dirt from the forest floor and his hand on the girl's head, Aragorn of the Dunedain wondered when he'd ever been so happy before. Surely he must have been sometime - strange, that he couldn't remember. A name, but without a face, entered his mind. Arwen. He must have felt like this with her, like he was emptied of everything but pure white light and music... he suddenly became painfully conscious of his closeness to Lora, his hand tangled in her soft hair (how had it got there, anyway?), her head over his heart. Arwen. Icy guilt seized his stomach, and as he rolled Lora off him he realised that he had not thought of her in days, had not counted off before going to sleep the days and months since he had seen her, had not imagined her walking beside him under the trees… had not felt alone. Aragorn turned to Lora, her strange dark eyes puzzled as she watched his face, and suddenly had to bite back rage at himself as he saw that her face was pale, her eyes unnaturally bright. He abruptly pulled her upright, greatly relieved by the excuse to ignore his lapse. She had got over her surprise, and impatiently shook off the ranger's attempts to examine the bruises on her face and hands, which were already beginning to blush from red to purple.
"Aragorn, I'm fine!".
"You're in shock, Lora, you're shaking. Let me see those". She saw the concern in his face and sat still as he ran his fingers across her jaw and cheek, feeling for fractures, and across her swollen knuckles. She seemed as tense as if she had a knife pressed against her back. Or neck, he thought wryly, wondering if she would have hit him as hard as she did the other man, and then quickly dismissing the thought. Of course she would. One attacker is no different from another. As he had walked Lora away, her face against his chest, a quick glance at the body of the last man had told him she had broken his jaw. Calmer now, she sat miserably on the forest floor, rubbing her bruises, as Aragorn rummaged through his pack, and pulled out a small leather pouch that she had not seen before. He drew from the bag some green fronds with small white flowers that looked fresh, although a little bruised, and gave some to her, then continued to search through it. Lora rubbed some of the leaves between her fingers, and breathed in the scent from them - it was fresh, and cleared her head wonderfully. As she rubbed it into her hands and jaw, making the skin tingle, the smell seemed to wash over her, easing the tension in her muscles, and even relieving some of her confusion.
What am I to think, when he hugs me, and smiles to make me dizzy, and makes me fly, then suddenly goes back to being so cold, and me being a child…
When she dared look up at him again, he seemed gentler, and even smiled a little as he passed her what she thought was a crystal pendant, but then saw was a small bottle, filled with liquid. "Drink a little of it, it will warm you up. We must walk a little away from here before you can sleep."
Too drained to argue, Lora tilted the bottle and swallowed what came into her mouth, then blinked in surprise as delicious warmth flowed through her, and energy as if she had just had a weeks sleep, and several good meals, and the bitter leather taste in her mouth disappeared. She found she was not even angry with the man who sat across from her as she handed him back the bottle, and felt she could walk for days as they stood again, and he slung the bow over his shoulder. "I do not know who those people were, but they cannot have been alone."