Author: Mirrordance
Title: Love, War
Summary: The War brought them together, but the peace will tear them apart. How much is a man willing to pay to keep a friendship, and how much is a friend willing to lose for revenge? Slash.
TIMELINE: the story happens about a year or two after Return of the King— the exact year is immaterial really, just as long as certain future events operate as a given: one, peace is yet to be attained with the Eastern tribes of Middle-Earth. Two, Ithilien is already restored and Legolas lords over the elven colony there, just as Gimli is lord of the Glittering Caves. Three, Eomer is already engaged, as is Eowyn and Faramir. Four, that Elrond and Galadriel have already sailed away to Valinor. The fic is generally faithful to the book and the movie with respect to the major events, although some factors about it may be considered as an AU; the irrepressible Haldir, for instance, is very much alive in this piece.
ORIGINAL CHARACTER GUIDE:
The Sang-age Tribe: a tribe name created from Latin roots which means 'belong to blood.' They a creation of the author and is supposed to be one of the multitude of Easterling tribes, not particularly powerful but also influential. excuse any possible inconsistencies haha.
King Nathaniel: the King of the Sang-age tribe.
Prince Nicolo: Heir of Nathaniel, a renown and vicious warrior.
Danielli: the king of another Easterling tribe, and a dear friend and ally to Nicolo.
Princess Nadina: Nathaniel's daughter, Nicolo's sister, and Danielli's wife.
Rebekah: Nadina's personal maid.
Adriano: Nicolo's impulsive young aide and valet.
Jonah: an old Easterling warrior.
Tadeo: an old Gondorian warrior
PART THREE: Roads
Chapter Sixteen: You've Never Met Anyone Like Me
The Road West
The size of the riding party doubled in size.
The original six Easterlings and six Gondorians remained onboard, as did of course, Elrohir, Haldir and Gimli. With them then rode Nadina, Rebekah and an additional entourage of four strange old women, whose purpose wasn't altogether clear to the Westerners until Rebekah noted the dwarf's befuddled expression and whispered under her breath that the women were the old guard assigned to make sure everyone conducted themselves properly.
"It is not only the Princess' health and life that must be looked after," Rebekah explained, "Also her virtue."
"Ah," said the dwarf, "Well I didn't think the old women could protect us from bandits and dark forces after all."
"You'd be surprised," the maid laughed, to receive a menacing glare from one of the old women they were talking about.
Aside from the six women who now accompanied them, another six soldiers rode along, and everyone was riding these curious and humungous beasts called camels, while their horses were steered along. The rationale had been that they ride the camels while traversing the dessert for the beasts were more accustomed to the climate, set up camp at the border between the East and West, move to the horses which were more rested having not borne any riders, and then proceed West for the rest of the journey. The camels would be steered back home by six of the Easterlings, therefore reducing the party to the original travelers plus the six women. The plan was kinder to the horses, and speedier as well. Besides, since the moment he set eyes on the happily-munching, slightly bearded beasts with the large, pooled eyes, Elrohir wanted to pounce on them. As a matter of fact, he was cooing at the beast he rode in his native Elvish, and the beast looked quite satisfied with his temporary master. The dwarf, who had been given a camel of his own and which he did not want to refuse in fear of being seen as a lesser rider, was also quite pleased with his ride- the humps upon the beast's back served as stable anchors. Haldir looked as adapted as ever upon a camel's back, and even had a rich green silken shroud about his head that someone must have given him.
"This heat is infernal," the dwarf commented, "I'm going to rust my armor with sweat!"
"It is the cold of the west that is unbearable to us," old Jonah commented, "the division of the land is as notable as the division of the people."
"Not for very long, one hopes," said Elrohir, his graceful hands absently stroking the neck of his camel.
"You're treating the beast like it was your child," an Easterling soldier, one of the camel-wranglers who would leave them at the halfway point, said with his brows raised.
"I'm sorry," said the Rivendell elf, his hands stilling, "Is it not advisable?"
"His tone had been that of reluctant approval," said Rebekah, laughing a little, "Not dismay. That beast will want no other rider but you now."
"I wonder if he can survive in my home," Elrohir mused out loud, rubbing at the camel's skin again, "He's quite pleasant. I'll be the only elf with such a strange friend! When I was a boy, I always thought perhaps it would be an adventure to own a mumakil. But this is marvelous as well."
They rode along. The Gondorians did not much appreciate the erratic creature. They learned the hard way that camels liked spitting along the length of the road. They also did not like being authoritatively told what to do, and that they also had a thick for clicking at you and trying to bite people. Elrohir's camel, though, was busy learning Elvish and was quite behaved. Rebekah watched the elf with morbid interest.
"He is a very strange one," Haldir said to her, catching her line of sight, "Do not let your knowledge of him taint our noble reputation."
"That is true," said Gimli, "Legolas is far, far more appropriate, I promise you."
Rebekah smiled at him, but looked a bit wistful at the thought. "But it is not so bad, is it?"
"The lady is right," said Elrohir wryly, "Friends… While we all seem to agree that I'm strange, we've all seemed to have forgotten that I also have incredibly good hearing."
"That you do," agreed Gimli with a bark of laughter, "That you do, mellon-nin."
They rode on. The Westerners and the Easterlings no longer had to be forced in specific formations to interact with one another; the ride was a reasonably comfortable, easy one, and occasional laughter could be heard from different spaces, jests exchanged by soldiers who had once tried to kill each other. The possibilities of this kind of life was making Elrohir smile.
The Rivendell elf headed the column of riders, with two of the old women riding right behind him and watching him carefully. He wondered why the eagle eyes of the old guard were eyeing him with such suspicion. He supposed cooing at the camel in Elvish could be the reason, so he ceased. And yet they still rode right behind him, and he could feel their eyes burning holes in his back. Behind the old women rode two Easterling soldiers, and then behind them rode the young, quiet Nadina beside the ever-faithful Rebekah. The line stretched along, peppered by Gondorians and Easterlings in random places. The rear was stalwartly held by Haldir, Gimli, Adriano and Jonah who had taken a liking for talking with each other. The party was relaxed, but also reasonably cautious. The elves situated at the front and at the back was not by coincidence.
The sands went on. They left the lands of the Sang-age the moment the sun set on their second day there, to travel in the more tolerable climes of the night. The wind was cold and whipping, but the seasoned travelers of the tribe assured them that the weather was mild, and safe for travel. Some night were better spent indoors or in camps, but this one would be pleasant for travel. True enough, the road during the night was comfortable, soothing even. The sands stretched out like a deep blue sea, and the sky was bursting with stars. But that had been hours upon hours ago, and now that the sun had risen in late morning, and they've not stopped for rest at all, the heat was quite terrible for the Westerners.
"When I get home," the dwarf proclaimed, "I will soak in water for one week. One whole week!"
Haldir quickened his camel's pace, passing the other riders that he may speak with Elrohir. Young Adriano followed behind him.
"Elrohir," said the former Marchwarden, "I believe we can make camp in this cave with a water hole."
Adriano was holding a map before the Rivendell elf's face, "It is about an hour's ride away. We will be diverging from our path a little, but it might be better to pool our strength."
Elrohir glanced at the map and considered. He was quite used to hardier and speedier travel, but then he was not traveling with elves or the dunedain, so he nodded.
"Indeed," he agreed, "We can camp there until night falls again, and then we ride once more."
They found the wide-mouthed cave as the map promised. The sand had thinned upon following this route, such that rock soon rose up beneath the camel hooves. And as they followed the rock they came upon this kind of island of rocks and stones. A wide-mouthed cave was entrenched amid high stone walls, and within it was a small, strangely luminous pool of blessed, sparkling water.
They all dismounted the camels, and the soldiers of Gondor and the Eastern camel-wranglers set about with settling down the beasts outside the cave but in a shade provided by the rock-walls. The six seasoned Easterlings ordered the rest of the party to stay outside the cave, as they ensured the interior was empty not only of hostile peoples but of snakes and scorpions. The members of the group that remained outside busied themselves with preparing for camp and a meal.
While everyone got busy, Elrohir noted with quite a lot of irritation that the two old women from earlier were still hounding him.
"I've stopped romancing the bloody camel," he said to them with a long-suffering sigh, "What is it that my ladies want of me?"
They just stared at him, and Rebekah pushed her way to stand between the irate elf and the impervious old women.
"They want nothing," Rebekah said, looking at the two old women pointedly, "And they will busy themselves elsewhere."
The two women stood there for a long moment, before frowning and walking away to join the two other old matrons. Elrohir exhaled in relief and he smiled at Rebekah gratefully.
"Did I do anything wrong again?" he asked her, forehead wrinkling in thought, "Some cultural prohibitions I once again missed on?"
"No," she assured him, "They are just particularly difficult. One of them is quite hard to deal with, but all together, I think they have this notion that they rule the world--"
An exclamation of pain from inside the cave. Elrohir jumped, and so did Rebekah. He made for the opening of the cave, and because she was following, he pressed his hands to her shoulders and wordlessly commanded her to stay where she was. He drew his sword as two of the six Easterlings who had gone into the cave ran out, one supporting the other.
"What happened?" he asked them.
"Snakes," the injured man replied breathlessly, wincing. Elrohir's eyes raked over the soldier's form and found a slightly bleeding puncture on his wrist. Already, he was weakened by the snake's poison.
"Sit down," Elrohir commanded the soldier, unknowingly adapting a tone that was very much borrowed from his healer father. He picked up the man's wrist and gripped it tightly, just as the other soldiers who had gone into the cave stepped out, all of them leaving it with a batch of different-colored, wriggling snakes in their sure, bare hands.
"This is dinner!" one of them exclaimed, before his eyes drifted to his injured comrade, sitting on the ground. His eyes saddened, and he quieted. "It happens, sometimes."
"What do you mean, 'it happens sometimes?'" exclaimed the dwarf, eyes widening as he wondered if the man meant that the bitten soldier was going to die, "Have you no remedy for such things?"
"Not for the bite of this one," replied another soldier raising up a snake that shared the color of the dessert. It was very much still alive, but its dangerous jaws were made immobile by a firm grip to his head.
"Lower your limb," Elrohir instructed the injured man softly, but authoritatively. "Point it downwards, yes. Well done. What is your name?"
"Aaron," replied the soldier, a bit shakily. He was nervous by the idea of impending death, and by the elven stranger who was tending him.
"I need water," Elrohir said to no one in particular, "If you're going to get from the blasted cave, for god's sakes, be careful. And keep that snake that bit him alive."
"What am I to do with it?" asked the wrangler who was holding the said culprit.
"Hang on to it for awhile," Elrohir replied, "I won't take long."
"The wound must be cut wide," said one of the old women, "And the poison drawn from it by sucking. Or the wound must be cauterized."
"Have you ever actually known anyone who's lived through that?" Elrohir asked her, "Truly, madam?"
"I have," she said, "Just… not too many. And not for very long. And not by bites from that foul thing in particular."
"Oh gods…" breathed Aaron, "I'm going to die!"
"Calm down," Elrohir told him, as a soldier brought them a bowl of water. Haldir sat on his haunches next to Elrohir, bearing the elf's healer's pack.
'Mellon-nin,' Elrohir said to Haldir softly, 'Have you ever drawn venom from a Mirkwood spider?'
'I do not count that as amongst my experiences,' murmured the Marchwarden, 'I am sorry.'
"I have!" exclaimed the dwarf, and the two elves looked at him in surprise. First, because of his declaration and second, that he had picked up on their Elvish. Then again, one did not travel around with Legolas for a long time without picking up anything.
"What are you all saying?" Aaron asked shakily.
"Everyone get busy setting up camp," Elrohir commanded the wary bunch of people who were staring at him as he worked, "We're going to need a comfortable place to rest Mister Aaron when I am done."
"Rest me?" Aaron asked, "To die?"
As the group scrambled, Rebekah lingered next to the young soldier and told him something in their own tongue, soothing him. Elrohir looked at her gratefully, before turning to Gimli.
"Elvellon," he said, "I will challenge your claim and ask that you employ the same trick working upon the Mirkwood spiders with the snake that bit our friend."
The dwarf glanced at the snake in the wrangler's hands, apparently contemplating if the Rivendell had lost his mind in the heat and had forgotten that dessert snakes looked nothing like Mirkwood spiders. But he sighed and accosted the soldier bearing the snake; he was never one to back down from a challenge presented by an elf.
"Haldir," said Elrohir, "Heat the water and add along that funny-looking red leaf in my pack." The Lorien elf nodded and scurried off to do as was instructed.
Rebekah raised an eyebrow at him, and her clear blue eyes were screaming, Funny looking red leaves? Are you sure you know what you're doing?
He gave her a wry look, and was unsurprised when she silenced and decipehered it as Do you have any brighter ideas?
"Aaron," said Elrohir, "My father is one of the finest healers that have ever crossed these lands. I cannot promise you his hands, or his knowledge. But he taught me well, and I can promise you a distant second to the best, and a lot of effort. Do you trust me?"
"Yes," replied the bewildered young man.
"Excellent," said the elf, as he proceeded with wiping the blood from the wound, to have a clearer picture of the puncture. "Would you want to know what I'm about to do?"
"Yes," replied Aaron, nervously again, his voice shaking, "Are you going to cut it off?"
"No, no," said Elrohir, "You get to keep the limb and live, or you get to keep the limb and die. Does that assure you?"
"Somewhat," said the young soldier, chuckling nervously, "I wouldn't want to loose my fighting hand."
"Well it won't be fighting once this peace is settled," said Rebekah, "But if you live, you can use it some other way."
"Of course, my lady," said Aaron, smiling dreamily up at her.
"This is what will happen," explained the elf, "Gimli the dwarf will be drawing venom from the spider that bit you. He will do this by taking a jar, and then covering up its mouth with a piece of washcloth. And then he will have the snake bite at the washcloth, such that its venom drops down to the jar. The jar will then be taken to my friend Haldir, the pompous golden elf with our boiling water and red leaves over there. He will mix the venom in, and I shall have you drink the entirety of the thing."
"You're going to kill me," Aaron breathed.
"Oh no," said Elrohir, "Oh no, my friend. The science of it is quite simple. You see how the snake bears poison but is not killed by it? It's because as its carrier, his body counters the poison by antivenin within its system… Antivenin that my funny red leaves will be drawing out, and which your body will borrow upon ingestion. Not permanently of course. You can get bitten by a snake tomorrow for instance, and not be immune. But it will work, as your body rids itself of the poison."
"I've never heard of this treatment before," said Aaron.
"You've never met anyone like me before," winked Elrohir, "Although… don't make a habit of getting stung. I did not bring too much of the funny red leaves from my home." He laughed, "I kept thinking I'd be the only one who'd end up needing it."
Aaron slept peacefully as the antivenin worked its magic. Elrohir decided to camp the group out for a few hours more as he considered his situation over a map. The sun was setting in an orange blaze, quite the sight even from just the mouth of the cave.
"What's on your mind?" Haldir asked, seated beside him and the dwarf too.
"I'm thinking we've gone on with the camels far enough," replied the elf, "We can probably send them back already, with the wranglers of course, and Aaron with them. We've gone this same route with just our horses before, and they are quite rested."
Haldir nodded, "All right. This is amenable to me." He smirked, and Elrohir felt a jest coming along, "But I thought you had taken a liking to that creature of yours."
"Ah yes," smiled the elf, "But you know, in this life we must make do with sweet partings. I was imagining a camel in Imladris. It seemed strangely attractive but alas. This is life."
"So it is," grinned the dwarf, sniffing the air and sighing, "Oh, I never thought they could make snake smell this delectable."
"I just wish I hadn't seen it raw," said Elrohir wryly, as the women, save of course for Nadina who sat quietly in a corner, set about serving the meal around.
'What do you think of the princess?' Elrohir asked the dwarf in Elvish, knowing he'd understand.
"Beautiful," the dwarf conceded, "But still. Somewhat cold. I did not think she'd be quite so frigid. The men had spoken so warmly of her. But then again, maybe she does not like strangers, much. Far less, perceived… conquerors such as ourselves."
Elrohir nodded in agreement, falling silent as the formidable Rebekah approached them with snakes on sticks and warm broth to down it with. She smiled at them tentatively, "I am wondering if our western lords are adventurous."
"Oh, I've been waiting for your offering since I smelled it," said the dwarf, gleefully accepting the fare and closing his eyes in pleasure over the exotic meal. "Mmmmm. Much, much better than Elvish bread."
"Elvish bread?" she asked, sitting across from the two warriors, interested in their culture as they've displayed with hers.
"A long story," said the dwarf over a mouthful, "Suffice to say we traveled this incredibly long, tiring road ahead with nothing but the cursed bread. 'One small bite is enough to fill the stomach of a grown man indeed,' but they said nothing of the taste!" the dwarf laughed, "One small bite is enough because one small bite is all you'd want to bite! It was quite bland."
"Oh, but it sure kept you alive, my friend," said Haldir.
"And grandmother will not take kindly to your ungrateful slander." Elrohir teased, and the dwarf blushed. To Rebekah he explained, "Master Dwarf is quite in love with her."
"I am not in love!" the dwarf retorted, "But his grandmother is very truly radiant indeed."
Rebekah's nose wrinkled. "Your grandmother?" her mind obviously raced with thoughts of the four, wrinkled old hags who were guarding the Princess' virtue.
"Oh she looks nothing like that," Elrohir said quickly, "We elves do not age much at all. I'm pushing quite a few centuries. Can you tell?"
Her eyes widened. "I did not know this."
"We do not die," said Haldir, "Unless of course, killed and felled by swords and things. But we do not age, we do not get sick."
She looked perplexed. "Only the gods are immortal."
"We're the Firstborn," said Elrohir, "Not gods, but closer than anyone else who walks the Earth."
"That's why they are so arrogant," the dwarf said good-naturedly, "As you may have seen for yourself."
"This is fascinating," she said intently, "What histories you've seen! If I drank your blood would it make me immortal as well?"
Scary thought, Elrohir mused wryly.
"I recognize the belief," said Elrohir, "Like the tale of the Blood of Darat."
"Yes, yes," she said, urging him on excitedly. He was very much liking the warmth of her spirit.
"Oh it does not apply to elves," replied Elrohir, "And I am not just saying that just to keep you from slitting my throat during the night."
"A shame," she said mock-gravely, her eyes twinkling, "It may have given me a much more justifiable reason for killing you, outside of that arrogance the dwarf spoke of."
To be continued…
HEY GUYS!
thanks for the encouraging c&c's, they really seriously keep me going, especially since i've been finding myself stuck lately. oh well, i'll keep going anyway and hope i never disappoint you. on another note, if you've followed my fic For Every Evil, i've been working on the sequel, as well as a prequel. lots of fun, haha. keep the reviews coming if you can and i'll keep the chapters coming (double post again; since one post does not have the promised A/L in it, i post another chapter so as not to disappoint). so there. 'til the next one!