Part 1
Legolas had come to the forests of Rhudaur for one purpose and one purpose only—to ascertain that the passes of the peaceful Western lands remained safe to Elves and Men. Rhudaur was too close to the Witch Kingdom of Angmar, and he had been cautioned by his kinsmen about the wandering Orcs and barbarians in this territory. He had been ever watchful of any signs of danger.
Always he had been confident of his stealth and silence. When he came upon a clearing, and saw a group of Orcs gathered around a fallen body, Legolas had coolly hidden behind one of the large Rhudaur trees. He did not want to rain arrows on the group at once, since an attack would alert bands of more Orcs about the presence of a hostile. Still, the moment his keen Elven eyes saw the spill of golden hair pressed against the ground, his arms reached for his weapon and fired a volley of shots, sending the Uruk-hai sprawling heavily down.
Now here in front of him was a young woman who must have been enslaved, though her very appearance was a paradox in itself. She must have been a captive of Angmar, for no young woman would willingly have her tresses chopped off so short. Her garments ill-befitted her delicate features, for she wore heavy leather boots and a thick knee-length coat. Had she been his woman, she would be clothed in gossamer and silk that drape around her. She was so small, he decided. He regretted taking her by her arms so firmly. Her clean face and fragrant scent belied his assumptions though. No prisoner of the Uruk-hair would appear so cared for.
She was speaking in a language that was foreign to him. Legolas' brows furrowed as he tried to recognize the words. He had long lived and long traveled, and could probably link the roots to certain cultures. She did not speak Sindar, that much was certain. Nor was her speech Noldo or Eastern. In fact, Legolas could not place her anywhere—not her tone, her pitch, her accent. He thought back to the ancient Adunaic that characterized Numenor, and found no relation.
She spoke fast and ceaselessly. Legolas understood nothing of what she said. He reached up and brushed away a jelly-like substance from her cheek. "Uruk-hai saliva," he muttered in Sindarin. The girl sharply inhaled, though not from comprehension. He saw the flame of awareness in her eyes.
Legolas cleared his throat. "So you do not speak the language," he said slowly, almost entertained now with the fact that he could express his displeasure at a maiden's actions without repercussions. If he were to really tell an Elven maid of Lothlorien or Mirkwood that he did not approve of her rash decisions, he would be judged as one who disrespected her.
The girl frowned, and Legolas smirked. This was one opportunity he would not miss. He pointed to himself and slowly said, "Le-go-las. Legolas."
She took his hand and turned his finger to point towards herself. She nodded and smiled. "Chloe."
"Chloe," Legolas repeated. He sighed. "Well, Chloe, it is foolish indeed for you to travel in these lands alone, especially when you do not know the language. Yet," he shrugged, "a band of Orcs or the Nazgul certainly would not allow you to speak before killing you. So it does not matter."
Chloe arched her eyebrows. Legolas knew that the young woman would soon get frustrated at the rate he was speaking.
"So," he said loudly, gesticulating to the different directions, "where were you planning to go?"
Chloe narrowed her eyes. She did not need him if he was going to be despicable, not even slowing his speech so that she could catch up. She only needed to know the direction to the stream of meteor rocks. She was sure if she dove in again, she would resurface in Smallville. She waved her hand in a shooing motion.
Legolas would find no end to his shame if he allowed this girl to travel alone. "Where?" he asked again. He took her wrist and pointed to the different directions, then tapped her heavy boot with his thin one, making a walking motion with his hands.
Insulted, Chloe snatched her hand away and trudged by herself towards the north.
"Angmar?!" Legolas yelled. "Angmar!?"
Chloe continued stalking away.
"You are not going to Angmar!" He cursed in Sindarin, another thing forbidden in the presence of a maiden. Yet Legolas had limited patience, for he was noisy when enemies were possibly close by. There was a young woman who had just been attacked by Orcs, who could speak not a whit of Elvish or Mannish, heading to the realm of the Witch-King. "Chloe!" he yelled.
Chloe did not stop. The pretty creature undoubtedly was the best fighter in this crazed land, but he certainly was not a gentleman. All her storybook notions went down the drain the moment he waved her limbs around and treated her like a ragdoll. He could call her an angmar if he wanted. She turned around without caring and cursed back in her very simple American English, "Well you're an angmar too!"
He growled low in his chest. Legolas sprinted after her, ever watchful of more Orcs. The young woman had no idea what she was speaking of. Everything inside him told him that he needed to drag her to wherever he was going. It was apparent that this deranged woman had no one else.
"I'm sorry," he muttered, when he caught up to her.
Chloe turned to look at him and saw the look in his eyes. Even if she did not understand the words, she understood the expression. She gave him a small smile and closed her hand around his briefly.
Legolas looked down at his hand. After that earlier scene when she wrapped her arms about him from behind, he understood. She was perhaps some foreign woman of pleasure, brought from the East by the Witch-King of Angmar. Certainly no woman of Middle-Earth would be so free in her affections. Fortunately, he saved her from having to serve in Angmar. He had to test his theory. If this was true, then he could perhaps take her to Rivendell, then Elrond would decide in whose house she could be sent to take a respectable job.
He had been fascinated by the unearthly glimmer of her lips since she started talking in another language. Legolas cupped her cheek and pressed his lips against hers for a kiss.
Chloe's eyes drifted shut, and she met his kiss. And then she felt how much liberty his hands would take. With a gasp, Chloe forced herself to push him away.
"Bastard!" she screamed at his face. She did not even care anymore that he would not understand.
"You kissed back," he argued in Elvish.
"It doesn't even matter if I kissed," she rationalized to herself, not even paying attention that he was arguing incomprehensibly. "You had no right to touch me. Here!" she looked down at her crumpled blouse.
Legolas saw where she glanced. He was ashamed, true. Clearly, she was no woman of pleasure. Still, she had kissed him. Where his hands went were beyond his control. Many maidens did not take offense at his freer actions.
"I mean, what, am I in another planet where it's okay to grope?! That would explain the ape-like monsters and the Trekkie ears."
Legolas shook his head. He had chuckled with his friends when they regaled him with tales of their talkative wives. When they told him that their wives would not stop talking, he had patted them on the back. Now he understood what hell it was to be stuck with a woman who would not stay silent. And he did not even know exactly what she was saying, so he could not defend himself completely.
So Legolas turned her around and made her walk in the opposite direction. It was best to head off where help would be found. She did not argue, merely walked along.
"Do you have food with you?" he asked vainly. She stared blankly at him. He made a motion of placing his fingers towards his mouth, then chewing. "Do you have food with you?" he repeated.
Chloe shook her head.
"I suppose you don't know how to catch food." When Chloe frowned at him again, Legolas rolled his eyes. "Much use you'll be in this adventure," he muttered.
Legolas saw a large rock under a tree. He led her there. He heard the rumbling in her stomach and was comforted by her hunger. She would not run off alone when she was hungry and he was her only chance for food. Very silently, he went around the perimeter and spied for anything they could eat.
Chloe looked up when he returned. Her eyes widened at the sight of a poor rabbit in his hands. "Nasty bunny killer!"
Legolas did not pay attention to her. He skinned the rabbit and prepared to roast it.
"I'm not going to eat that," she decided.
Chloe hopped off her rock and looked around for anything edible. She lit up at the sight of a shrub heavy with red berries. She reached for one and popped it into her mouth. The juice dribbled from her mouth and down the front of her coat. She looked down. "That's going to stain." She removed her coat and loaded it with as many berries as she could pick, then took her harvest back to where Legolas had a nice fire going.
He handed her a leg, and Chloe flinched away. "No thanks." She reached for a berry and popped it into her mouth.
Suddenly, Chloe found herself manhandled again. Legolas slapped away another berry from her hand and grabbed her face. "Spit it out," he commanded. When he remembered that she would not understand, he inserted two fingers into her mouth and drew the piece of chewed fruit out. He grabbed his water container and forced her to take some. Before she could swallow, Legolas bent her over and hit her on the back. Chloe spit out the water, now red from the juice of the berries.
"What is wrong with you?" she rasped, her eyes tearing up from the rough ministrations.
Legolas did not waste his time trying to explain with foolish actions of his hands. Instead, he looked around them for a particular shrub. "Wait," he commanded again. Then, he crawled through the forest floor to scrape off some lichens.
It did not take him a long time, merely ten to fifteen minutes. Still, when he returned, she was lying on her side, gripping her stomach and throwing up what she could. Chloe was crying now. If this had happened before Lana and the meteor rock stream came into her life, she would be in the hospital, safely getting purged of this poison. Heck, she would have eaten those berries. There would have been no death berries!
And then, a firm hand was lifting her head from the pool of her own vomit and straightening her body. When he moved her from her curled position, a fresh wave of pain came in her stomach. Chloe cried out and turned her head away.
The moans of pain were not language-based. Legolas understood her suffering because he had once fallen victim to the Bloodberries too, when he was young. He boiled the lichens in the last of his water and created a salve. And then, he pushed her legs down and wiped the perspiration from her brow.
"All is well," he said softly, even if she would not understand. He had learned the power of speech really extended beyond the actual words. "Chloe, sleep." He pushed up her upper garment, one that he still had no name for, and revealed the whiteness of her taut belly. He took some of the salve in his fingers and blew on it so that it would not be so hot it would burn her. In slow, circular motions, he spread the salve on her stomach.
Legolas wiped his fingers on his pants and drew her head on his folded cloak. He dried her tears away. In a song, to lull her to sleep, he told her the story of the Children of Hurin, adventures of old, and a history of his land.
~~
She was safe!
Lana sobbed into her handkerchief as she lay on the bank. Her danged handkerchief was drenched in the water from the stream, but it was no good to just cry without a piece of cloth to hold against your eyes. She was safe! She did not drown.
She looked around her and saw nothing but blackness. There must be someone else out there. "Chloe!" she yelled. "Chloe, where are you?"
Lana tried to stand, but found her legs too weak to carry her. She had to find Chloe. They had to get out of here.
"Chloe! Lana!" She looked up and saw Clark several feet away. "Lana, are you all right?"
She nodded. Lana reached up for Clark. "Please. You have to help me stand."
Clark tried to walk towards her, but he faltered. Lana saw his eyes turn to the water. "I—I can't, Lana. You'll have to drag yourself away from the water."
Lana bit her lip and started pulling herself away from the meteors. "You have to go into the water, though, Clark. It's Chloe. I think she drowned."
Clark looked at the glowing water and swallowed.
Legolas had come to the forests of Rhudaur for one purpose and one purpose only—to ascertain that the passes of the peaceful Western lands remained safe to Elves and Men. Rhudaur was too close to the Witch Kingdom of Angmar, and he had been cautioned by his kinsmen about the wandering Orcs and barbarians in this territory. He had been ever watchful of any signs of danger.
Always he had been confident of his stealth and silence. When he came upon a clearing, and saw a group of Orcs gathered around a fallen body, Legolas had coolly hidden behind one of the large Rhudaur trees. He did not want to rain arrows on the group at once, since an attack would alert bands of more Orcs about the presence of a hostile. Still, the moment his keen Elven eyes saw the spill of golden hair pressed against the ground, his arms reached for his weapon and fired a volley of shots, sending the Uruk-hai sprawling heavily down.
Now here in front of him was a young woman who must have been enslaved, though her very appearance was a paradox in itself. She must have been a captive of Angmar, for no young woman would willingly have her tresses chopped off so short. Her garments ill-befitted her delicate features, for she wore heavy leather boots and a thick knee-length coat. Had she been his woman, she would be clothed in gossamer and silk that drape around her. She was so small, he decided. He regretted taking her by her arms so firmly. Her clean face and fragrant scent belied his assumptions though. No prisoner of the Uruk-hair would appear so cared for.
She was speaking in a language that was foreign to him. Legolas' brows furrowed as he tried to recognize the words. He had long lived and long traveled, and could probably link the roots to certain cultures. She did not speak Sindar, that much was certain. Nor was her speech Noldo or Eastern. In fact, Legolas could not place her anywhere—not her tone, her pitch, her accent. He thought back to the ancient Adunaic that characterized Numenor, and found no relation.
She spoke fast and ceaselessly. Legolas understood nothing of what she said. He reached up and brushed away a jelly-like substance from her cheek. "Uruk-hai saliva," he muttered in Sindarin. The girl sharply inhaled, though not from comprehension. He saw the flame of awareness in her eyes.
Legolas cleared his throat. "So you do not speak the language," he said slowly, almost entertained now with the fact that he could express his displeasure at a maiden's actions without repercussions. If he were to really tell an Elven maid of Lothlorien or Mirkwood that he did not approve of her rash decisions, he would be judged as one who disrespected her.
The girl frowned, and Legolas smirked. This was one opportunity he would not miss. He pointed to himself and slowly said, "Le-go-las. Legolas."
She took his hand and turned his finger to point towards herself. She nodded and smiled. "Chloe."
"Chloe," Legolas repeated. He sighed. "Well, Chloe, it is foolish indeed for you to travel in these lands alone, especially when you do not know the language. Yet," he shrugged, "a band of Orcs or the Nazgul certainly would not allow you to speak before killing you. So it does not matter."
Chloe arched her eyebrows. Legolas knew that the young woman would soon get frustrated at the rate he was speaking.
"So," he said loudly, gesticulating to the different directions, "where were you planning to go?"
Chloe narrowed her eyes. She did not need him if he was going to be despicable, not even slowing his speech so that she could catch up. She only needed to know the direction to the stream of meteor rocks. She was sure if she dove in again, she would resurface in Smallville. She waved her hand in a shooing motion.
Legolas would find no end to his shame if he allowed this girl to travel alone. "Where?" he asked again. He took her wrist and pointed to the different directions, then tapped her heavy boot with his thin one, making a walking motion with his hands.
Insulted, Chloe snatched her hand away and trudged by herself towards the north.
"Angmar?!" Legolas yelled. "Angmar!?"
Chloe continued stalking away.
"You are not going to Angmar!" He cursed in Sindarin, another thing forbidden in the presence of a maiden. Yet Legolas had limited patience, for he was noisy when enemies were possibly close by. There was a young woman who had just been attacked by Orcs, who could speak not a whit of Elvish or Mannish, heading to the realm of the Witch-King. "Chloe!" he yelled.
Chloe did not stop. The pretty creature undoubtedly was the best fighter in this crazed land, but he certainly was not a gentleman. All her storybook notions went down the drain the moment he waved her limbs around and treated her like a ragdoll. He could call her an angmar if he wanted. She turned around without caring and cursed back in her very simple American English, "Well you're an angmar too!"
He growled low in his chest. Legolas sprinted after her, ever watchful of more Orcs. The young woman had no idea what she was speaking of. Everything inside him told him that he needed to drag her to wherever he was going. It was apparent that this deranged woman had no one else.
"I'm sorry," he muttered, when he caught up to her.
Chloe turned to look at him and saw the look in his eyes. Even if she did not understand the words, she understood the expression. She gave him a small smile and closed her hand around his briefly.
Legolas looked down at his hand. After that earlier scene when she wrapped her arms about him from behind, he understood. She was perhaps some foreign woman of pleasure, brought from the East by the Witch-King of Angmar. Certainly no woman of Middle-Earth would be so free in her affections. Fortunately, he saved her from having to serve in Angmar. He had to test his theory. If this was true, then he could perhaps take her to Rivendell, then Elrond would decide in whose house she could be sent to take a respectable job.
He had been fascinated by the unearthly glimmer of her lips since she started talking in another language. Legolas cupped her cheek and pressed his lips against hers for a kiss.
Chloe's eyes drifted shut, and she met his kiss. And then she felt how much liberty his hands would take. With a gasp, Chloe forced herself to push him away.
"Bastard!" she screamed at his face. She did not even care anymore that he would not understand.
"You kissed back," he argued in Elvish.
"It doesn't even matter if I kissed," she rationalized to herself, not even paying attention that he was arguing incomprehensibly. "You had no right to touch me. Here!" she looked down at her crumpled blouse.
Legolas saw where she glanced. He was ashamed, true. Clearly, she was no woman of pleasure. Still, she had kissed him. Where his hands went were beyond his control. Many maidens did not take offense at his freer actions.
"I mean, what, am I in another planet where it's okay to grope?! That would explain the ape-like monsters and the Trekkie ears."
Legolas shook his head. He had chuckled with his friends when they regaled him with tales of their talkative wives. When they told him that their wives would not stop talking, he had patted them on the back. Now he understood what hell it was to be stuck with a woman who would not stay silent. And he did not even know exactly what she was saying, so he could not defend himself completely.
So Legolas turned her around and made her walk in the opposite direction. It was best to head off where help would be found. She did not argue, merely walked along.
"Do you have food with you?" he asked vainly. She stared blankly at him. He made a motion of placing his fingers towards his mouth, then chewing. "Do you have food with you?" he repeated.
Chloe shook her head.
"I suppose you don't know how to catch food." When Chloe frowned at him again, Legolas rolled his eyes. "Much use you'll be in this adventure," he muttered.
Legolas saw a large rock under a tree. He led her there. He heard the rumbling in her stomach and was comforted by her hunger. She would not run off alone when she was hungry and he was her only chance for food. Very silently, he went around the perimeter and spied for anything they could eat.
Chloe looked up when he returned. Her eyes widened at the sight of a poor rabbit in his hands. "Nasty bunny killer!"
Legolas did not pay attention to her. He skinned the rabbit and prepared to roast it.
"I'm not going to eat that," she decided.
Chloe hopped off her rock and looked around for anything edible. She lit up at the sight of a shrub heavy with red berries. She reached for one and popped it into her mouth. The juice dribbled from her mouth and down the front of her coat. She looked down. "That's going to stain." She removed her coat and loaded it with as many berries as she could pick, then took her harvest back to where Legolas had a nice fire going.
He handed her a leg, and Chloe flinched away. "No thanks." She reached for a berry and popped it into her mouth.
Suddenly, Chloe found herself manhandled again. Legolas slapped away another berry from her hand and grabbed her face. "Spit it out," he commanded. When he remembered that she would not understand, he inserted two fingers into her mouth and drew the piece of chewed fruit out. He grabbed his water container and forced her to take some. Before she could swallow, Legolas bent her over and hit her on the back. Chloe spit out the water, now red from the juice of the berries.
"What is wrong with you?" she rasped, her eyes tearing up from the rough ministrations.
Legolas did not waste his time trying to explain with foolish actions of his hands. Instead, he looked around them for a particular shrub. "Wait," he commanded again. Then, he crawled through the forest floor to scrape off some lichens.
It did not take him a long time, merely ten to fifteen minutes. Still, when he returned, she was lying on her side, gripping her stomach and throwing up what she could. Chloe was crying now. If this had happened before Lana and the meteor rock stream came into her life, she would be in the hospital, safely getting purged of this poison. Heck, she would have eaten those berries. There would have been no death berries!
And then, a firm hand was lifting her head from the pool of her own vomit and straightening her body. When he moved her from her curled position, a fresh wave of pain came in her stomach. Chloe cried out and turned her head away.
The moans of pain were not language-based. Legolas understood her suffering because he had once fallen victim to the Bloodberries too, when he was young. He boiled the lichens in the last of his water and created a salve. And then, he pushed her legs down and wiped the perspiration from her brow.
"All is well," he said softly, even if she would not understand. He had learned the power of speech really extended beyond the actual words. "Chloe, sleep." He pushed up her upper garment, one that he still had no name for, and revealed the whiteness of her taut belly. He took some of the salve in his fingers and blew on it so that it would not be so hot it would burn her. In slow, circular motions, he spread the salve on her stomach.
Legolas wiped his fingers on his pants and drew her head on his folded cloak. He dried her tears away. In a song, to lull her to sleep, he told her the story of the Children of Hurin, adventures of old, and a history of his land.
~~
She was safe!
Lana sobbed into her handkerchief as she lay on the bank. Her danged handkerchief was drenched in the water from the stream, but it was no good to just cry without a piece of cloth to hold against your eyes. She was safe! She did not drown.
She looked around her and saw nothing but blackness. There must be someone else out there. "Chloe!" she yelled. "Chloe, where are you?"
Lana tried to stand, but found her legs too weak to carry her. She had to find Chloe. They had to get out of here.
"Chloe! Lana!" She looked up and saw Clark several feet away. "Lana, are you all right?"
She nodded. Lana reached up for Clark. "Please. You have to help me stand."
Clark tried to walk towards her, but he faltered. Lana saw his eyes turn to the water. "I—I can't, Lana. You'll have to drag yourself away from the water."
Lana bit her lip and started pulling herself away from the meteors. "You have to go into the water, though, Clark. It's Chloe. I think she drowned."
Clark looked at the glowing water and swallowed.