Chapter nine.

A fight blindfolded.

Before me goes a shield to guard me from harm:

It is the shadow of your arms between me and danger.

"Love Song"

Mary Carolyn Davies

"Legolas!"

Her voice choked, swallowed by hoarse triumphant yells. Panic seized him. She was there, surrounded by a crowd or raving beasts, and he was not able to stir a finger to help her.
She cried once more, this time so desperately that he lost his head and stopped thinking about anything but that frightened girl in mortal danger.

… He knew his bow was still there, hanging on the wall, waiting to feel his fingers again. It took him not much time to find it.

He blessed the impulse, which urged Rexia to open the window and to forget it so. In one mad leap he flew up on a windowsill.

"Rexia!" called he, growing cold with terror at the thought that he was late to do anything to save her. A shaky answer almost made him go crazy of joy:

"I'm here. Legolas, who are they!"

"Press yourself to the wall!" shouted the elf, "Please, hurry!"

There was no time to check if she had obeyed. He braced himself before the combat and jumped in the dark, letting his body remember the years when such things were not out of ordinary for him. His muscles responded with familiar impatient ache. The landing was perfect – he didn't even reel, as if his legs rooted themselves in the ground.

"Rexia?"

"Behind you," whispered she, "How…"

"No time. Hold onto me," asked he, "Hold tight and don't let go!"

Slender arms wound around his chest, bringing her body against his. The air reeked with orcs. They were so noisy… The bow-string twanged, and somebody's war-cry turned into the death-rattle. His second arrow flew to nowhere. One of the orcs ventured to get near and immediately fell, stricken with a dagger, which Legolas always held with him.

"How many of them left?" he dropped over the shoulder.

"Three," said Rexia quickly, "Oh, now two."

"Noting to boast of when I meet Gimli," murmured Legolas discontentedly, more to reassure her, than to himself.

He was trying to define from which direction he should expect the next attack, but all of a sudden the noise abated. "They are going to shoot" – flashed in his mind. He hadn't thought about it, and now his brain was working at its full speed. The door was close; he could still manage to push Rexia into the house… There was no weapon, which could bring instant death, especially when the target was moving. It was questionable whether he would be able to hide himself, but it didn't matter for him. He had already made his choice between their lives, having taken that blind jump from the windowsill.

"Rexia, we are going inside," warned he, "Try to stay behind me."

"But… They are gone." said she.

Legolas was startled. However strange it might be, she told him the truth – he didn't hear any foreign sounds, except his own heavy breathing. Unbelievable… When surprise diminished he realized that Rexia was still holding onto him, hiding her face between his blade bones. He raised his hand and carefully stroke one of hers, which were catching on his tunic. Her fingers relaxed, but didn't let go. Now they were leisurely resting on his breast. Rexia took a deep quavery breath – Legolas became surprisingly and keenly aware of how close they bodies were. The elf could feel that strain was slowly escaping her… He didn't dare move not to interrupt this embrace. All he wanted was to keep standing like that, savoring the feeling of her small figure, trustingly pressed against him. She was safe… She felt safe with him. She called him for help. Exultation overfilled his every cell, exultation and bitter tenderness…

He did not know how many centuries had passed before her lips suddenly moved.

"I was so scared," whispered she into his tunic, warming it with her breath.

"It's all over," he told her just as quietly, "I'm with you."

She hemmed and turned her head so that her cheek lay on his back.

"You think me weak," uttered she hushfully, "I would if I were you. I… I never thought I would be so afraid of dying."

I never thought I would be so afraid of somebody's death.

"You are not supposed to be unfeeling, are you?" asked he instead of saying that.

"Unfortunately, you are right…" her intonation was oddly heavy, and the voice acquired the same quality as when she was singing not so long ago. Deep, dark, enigmatic…

He caught his breath, when her hand cautiously moved up his torso, burning him through the thin material of the tunic. He was almost ready to swear that it was not a gesture of gratitude or a casual touch…The shrill tinge of caress in it intoxicated him. His bow fell on the ground, as he found her fingers and rashly brought them to his lips, benumbed by the heady smell of her skin…

"Rexia, I …"

But she interrupted him:

"You shouldn't have done that. They could have killed you."

"They would have killed me anyway," he smiled at her soft reproach, "I wouldn't outlive you much. I had no choice."

Rexia stiffened behind him. Her hand slipped out of his grasp, and she pushed herself aside, gently, but deliberately.

"Oh," said she with her common voice, "Then lucky you are to be such an excellent warrior. Thank you for having worried about me, too."

Magic was gone. There was no doubt about it. The sparkling lake, in which he was ready to drown, darkened and glaciated. Its banks got overgrown with blackthorn. Uncomprehending of the reasons which caused this change, he turned to face the former Rexia - hard, impersonal and crisp.

"I guess nothing threatens you now. I shall go."

"Go? Now?" he was so astonished, that didn't notice offence and sharp disappointment, ringing in her phrase. "Rexia, you cannot. They are still near."

"What I cannot is to stay. It's seven o'clock. Do you think I'm going to spend here all night?"

She stepped forward, oblivious of the fact that he wouldn't recede, and immediately ran against him. Desperate, he grasped her shoulders – she winced, letting out a small cry. One of her sleeves was torn and wet.

"Are you wounded?" Legolas hurriedly probed her shoulder and found a thin scratch, obviously oozing with blood.

"One of them threw knives. I dodged them. Let me go."

"No," said the elf resolutely, "I cannot and I won't."

He turned towards the forest and gave a whistle – just one, to show his need of help, yet not of urgent help. In half an hour somebody will come to his call.

"I summoned the guards. If you don't feel like staying, they will accompany you home," explained Legolas to the silent girl. Then he bent forward, and before she managed to protest, easily lifted her up. "And I'd be very thankful if you told me where the door is," added he gallantly.