Disclaimer: Refer to Chapter 1
A/N: I'm going to give this story another go, due to encouragement from a great friend. I hope everyone enjoys this!
Chapter 18: No Promises
Thranduil sent some of his most trusted soldiers as an entourage for his son, but even these seasoned warriors had difficulty catching up with Moraelin. Something drove her on, something she could not understand or even name. She just knew they were running out of time.
She had stopped for only the most reluctant lunch break and rode past nightfall, appearing determined to ride through the night. After several volleys of concerned glances had passed between the other elves, Legolas trotted up beside her. He took her horse's reins and drew the animal to a halt, earning a deadly glare from Moraelin.
"You may not be tired, but your horse is...and I am. We must stop for the night."
Moraelin reluctantly dismounted. They were near a stream, it was a good campsite, but she wanted to argue they go just a little further, get a little closer. What do you care? He sent you away to die alone. Leave him in the mines to rot.
Moraelin nearly shuddered at the unwelcome thoughts, but could not deny they had been drifting about in her mind all along. She was confused and she didn't want to see anyone right now. She took the time only to unsaddle her horse, but gave no mind to the other camp chores. She wandered off into the trees, following the meandering path of the stream, embarrassed by her moodiness.
Legolas watched her retreating back, exchanging a look with Oristor, an army healer. Legolas sighed, knowing she didn't want to be followed, but knowing just as well that he would find no peace worrying about her.
Legolas found her on a grassy cutoff bank of the stream, her boots tossed aside and her pants rolled up to the knees. Her legs dangled in the water while she lay on her back, looking up at the stars.
He could not resist the smile that twitched at the corners of his mouth. "What in Arda are you doing, Moraelin?"
"I think my feet stink," she said, tipping her head to look up at him, "Besides, it feels good. You should try it. And, I might ask what you are doing sneaking up on an armed Dwarf. We are dangerous when startled."
Legolas's deep chuckle floated on the night air, "You sound a lot like another Dwarf I know..."
Dropping onto the shore beside her, Legolas became serious, "Are you all right?"
Moraelin sat up, staring out into the endless darkness of Mirkwood for a long time before she said, "I'm really going to see him again, aren't I?"
"That frightens you?"
"Yes," she said quickly. It almost felt good to admit it to Legolas and to herself. "I thought I had put this all behind me. But, it was all an act, I was fooling myself. I never really dealt with how things ended here, I just put it away and tried tostart over. I thought I had learned to stop questioning who I was, so I could just live my life and not think about it." Now that the confessions had begun, she couldn't seem to stop them, "Do you know I went to the Grey Havens, swam in the ocean just to see if it called to me as it does you? I sat for hours on the beach and then dove into the water and floundered around like a blasted fool until I nearly drowned, waiting for something...that something other elves feel. But, the sea does not call to me."
"There is more to being an elf than longing for the sea." Legolas quietly argued.
"Like what? Walking on snow, singing, seeing for miles? I can't do any of those things either."
"But, you can dance," Legolas countered gently, "And you can heal, and you do glow." He placed his hand a hairs-breadth from Moraelin's face, close enough that she could feel its warmth, and studied the light reflecting on his curved fingers. "You have a beautiful light," he whispered.
Moraelin looked up at him in the inky darkness, but even with his elven eyesight Legolas could not see the look of apprehension, almost fear in her eyes.
"You mustn't say things like that to me," Moraelin said.
"I need to say these things," Legolas shot back, "I need to stay all those things I should have said to you years ago—"
"Enough," Moraelin ordered, jumping to her feet and groping in the darkness for her boots, "Don't say anymore."
"I must. You must listen—"
"No," she said, spinning at him, her eyes seeming to flash in anger, "I have to think of my brother, of the task before me. Do not make things more complicated with what you are about to say."
"So, you already know what I mean to say," Legolas said flatly, "And yet you don't care enough to listen."
Moraelin felt tears well in her eyes, "Don't say that to me. Of course I care. I just can't do this right now. Good night, Legolas."
"Stay." That single word stopped Moraelin in mid-step, but she did not turn back as he continued. "Moraelin, tell me you'll stay, after these negotiations are taken care of. Please, Moraelin, don't leave again."
The High Prince of Mirkwood had never begged for anything in his life, but not for a moment did he regret the note of pleading that had entered his voice.
Moraelin never turned, never looked at him. A cool breeze had picked up and blew in her face, drying the tears that clung to her lashes. "I can promise you nothing," she whispered and started back for camp.
The next morning, Moraelin saddled her horse at dawn, seeming to care very little if the rest of the group followed or not. She avoided Legolas's sharp blue gaze as he saddled his mount next to her. Her initial hurt and confusion had condensed into anger. How dare he dredge up the past now, when she needed to concentrate on negotiating her brother's release? And, if he were so interested in talking about old feelings, why hadn't he come after her all those years ago? Why hadn't he looked for her?
Moraelin slapped her swordbelt around her waist with unnecessary force. But, as always, she felt stronger with it on. She closed her hand over the gem-studded handle and thought of her father. If only you were here, she said to Eregos in silent desperation. Father, you would tell me what I should do.
Thoughts of her father made Moraelin a little melancholy, diluting her anger as the day wore on. The truth was, Moraelin had tried not to think of Eregos in recent years. She did not think her father would like who she had become, nor be proud to find one of his children living alone in the wilds with no future, avoiding her past. She thought he would be pleased to see her now helping her wayward brother, albeit reluctantly.
Moraelin did not keep up the formerrapid pace, instead allowing some of Thranduil's scouts to do their jobs and ride ahead of the group. She frowned at her sore muscles from the day before. This horse had a gait like three-legged warg, and she found herself missing Rock terribly. The terrain became more rugged after mid-day, and she sensed they were nearing the foothills of the mountains. The trees began to thin out, and as they reached the river, Moraelin caught her first glimpse of the mountains looming before them. They were jagged and formidable, just the type of home Dwarves dream of.
One of the scouts met them at the river and told Legolas, "The river is in flood, Highness, this ford is too dangerous. But, there is another crossing to the south that I think we could manage."
Moraelin scowled but remained silent. More delays. Always more delays. They picked their way through thick alder along the river's course until finally they reached the ford. Moraelin managed to keep her expression neutral, but her mouth went dry as she saw the proposed crossing. This stretch of water did not seem any less wild or flooded than the other ford, if anything it looked worse. But, she just wanted to be across the blasted river and on her way. The scout urged his horse into the river and Moraelin plunged in after him, gasping as the icy water churned around her legs. Only a few more steps and the horses were neck deep. Moraelin gripped the saddlehorn tightly. She knew her sudden tension was making the horse nervous, but she felt with each lurching step she might be tossed to the mercy of the river.
The scout's horse splashed safely onto the opposite bank, and she calmed a little, knowing the worst of it was behind her. She clamped her teeth together in fear as she felt her horse stumble beneath her. She tried to keep her seat, but the animal flopped sideways and Moraelin was swept into the frothy river. She let out a gurgling yell and flailed to keep her head above the water. Oristor leaned far over and tried to grab Moraelin as she rushed by him. She eluded him by inches and he turned his mount for the opposite shore. The party broke into chaos as riders tore back through the clinging brush, following the bobbing form that was trying desperately to keep from being swallowed up by the hungry river.
Legolas had been concentrating on guiding his horse through the rushing waters when the scream and splash rose up before him and stopped his heart cold. He had watched in horror as she was pulled into the river, and her name tore from his throat. He now was riding blindly through alder thickets, the branches tearing at his face and clothing as he tried to keep sight of her. Every time her head disappeared, Legolas's chest tightened in terror, he couldn't breathe, he felt like he was drowning with her.
Legolas spotted a string of boulders in the waters ahead. He kicked his mount forward, galloping ahead of the other riders. As he reached the rocks, he leapt from his horse before it even slowed and hit the ground running. Jumping across the rocks, he was soon in the middle of the river, its roar pounding into his ears. He watched Moraelin as she approached. She went under and came up sputtering. He could see she was trying to turn her body, to keep her head away from the rocks that the river meant to hurl her against. She didn't see him. He screamed her name, but knew she could not hear. She was almost to him now, and he saw her spin further away. Jumping to the next rock, a large flat boulder, he lay on his belly, reaching out for her. He was stretched out too far, he knew he was soon to fall in and share her fate, but he didn't care. She was nearly to him, and he stretched further over the brown water. She reached him, and he saw her eyes, wild, begging for his help…but she was too far away. She sped by, just out of his reach and was tossed against a sharp rock. Moraelin went under…and he didn't see her come back up.
Legolas fell backwards, screaming, hysterical, ready to throw himself into the water. He thought he saw Moraelin's arm break the surface before the river took a sharp bend and she was gone.
As he jumped from the last rock and crashed awkwardly onto the shore, Legolas saw the scout had retrieved his horse and was waiting for him. Legolas scrambled into the saddle and they took up the chase again. But, as they came around the bend in the river, they saw nothing, just more ugly, dirty water roiling within its banks. Legolas's breaths were choppy; his panicked blue eyes searched the river for some sign of Moraelin. He saw nothing.
The scout, Maralir, saw Oristor on the opposite bank and asked in hurried hand sign if he had seen her. All Oristor did was shake his head sadly.
They all looked defeated, devoid of hope, and Legolas turned on Maralir in fury, "No, no this isn't over. We must keep looking."
"We will, Legolas. But, I don't think she could—"
"I don't want you to think. I want you to ride." Legolas replied coldly. He wheeled his horse around and continued downstream. The other elves followed, but more slowly, their grief already weighing heavily upon them.
It had been nearly an hour. Legolas felt completely numb. The river ran beside him cruel and uncaring, tearing at its own banks in its rage. What chance did Moraelin have against such power?
He turned his horse to scour this stretch of shoreline again. The elves had split up and were walking both sides of the river. He knew the others expected to find nothing more than a broken body, if anything at all. The very thought that Moraelin was dead shredded Legolas's insides, so he dared not entertain it.
The brush became thicker and Legolas dismounted, leading his horse with slow steps. His tired eyes suddenly latched onto something below him. In a calmer backwash of the river, piles of brush, even a couple of trees had collected. Laying over one of these trees was a small body.
"Moraelin?" Legolas called, his voice breaking.
She lifted her head from where it rested on the trunk, her eyes glazed with fatigue. "Legolas," she whispered, and looked like she meant to say something else, but couldn't quite form the words.
He breathed her name again, stumbling down the bank and crashing through the debris to reach her. He wrapped his arms around her, meaning to lift her from the water when she grunted in displeasure. Her hair had become entangled in the brush, and he took a moment to free her. He saw that blood was dripping from a gash that ran from the heel of her hand almost her elbow. She was quiet as he took her from the water's grasp and onto shore.
When he laid her on the sandy bank, she looked up at him. Her voice was scratchy as she said, "You borrowed me a clumsy horse. Rock would have never pitched me off like that."
Legolas laughed, relief shining in his eyes as he brushed the matted hair away from her face. Moraelin smiled weakly back, tossing her good arm around his neck and pulling him close. She smelled slightly of fish, but Legolas didn't care. As he cradled her against his chest, he was just grateful she was alive.
It was a long time before he could let her go, but when he pulled away, he saw a tear slip down her cheek. "I'm sorry," she whispered, looking away in embarrassment. Legolas just reached out, brushing her cheeks dry with his thumbs. When she finally met his eyes again, he was looking at her so strangely, his face tightened and uncertain. Then, he lowered his face, catching her lips with his and holding her face with his hands. She began to kiss him back, grabbing at his arms with her hands when a voice rang from the bank above.
"Highness! Highness, you found her!"
Legolas pulled away, a smirk crossing his face. "We are never going to be allowed to properly finish a kiss, are we?'
Moraelin sighed, "No, I don't think so."
