Chapter 12 – The After Party
After the party had finally died down, the women returned to The Eagle's Nest for rest and bed, and in Red's case, beer. Green entered the tavern with little response from the other occupants, drunkards, merry-makers, party-ers. When Red burst through the doors, throwing them open with a loud crack, the room exploded in cheers and shouts of 'Red!' as they all raised their mugs into the air. They settled down and went back to talking excitedly to one another as Blue entered behind Red.
Then as Black appeared after the blue woman, the room went deathly silent. Each man's eyes darted anxiously toward the dark woman, her face hidden inside the inky shadows of her hood. The bar was filled with an uneasy stillness as all the patrons were suddenly struck dumb by fear. No one dared move.
"You'd think they've never seen a servant of Death before," Black whispered, barely audible even to Blue's sensitive ears.
Other than that, she ignored the mortal men's paltry fear and quickly shifted, much as a shadow would, toward the bar. After a few eternal moments, the room lapsed into quiet conversation once again.
"Servant of Death?" Blue asked. "Think highly of ourselves, do we?"
A voice from the black pit of the woman's hood answered, soft and far-away. "You're not familiar with the term 'servant,' are you?"
Beld the Barkeep came and quickly deposited a mug of ale before Blue and Black, before nervously dashing off again. Black sighed, and pulled down her hood. Taking the tankard by the handle, she took a swig of the sweet liquor. Alas, it had lost its tang and magic long ago.
Blue was about to say something, but then totally forgot it when she caught a glimpse of Black's scarred face as she took a drink. The water woman gasped.
"What happened to your face?" she demanded. Black looked at her out of the corner of her eye as she set the mug down again. "I mean, it hasn't always been like that, has it?" Blue added, realizing how her words must have sounded. She was not helping herself.
"As long as you've known me," Black replied.
"They're appalling," Blue said.
"Gee, thanks," said Black.
"No, I meant appalling as in dreadful, not appalling as in disgusting," Blue added. "Though they are that as well."
"Stop," Black demanded. "If you dig any farther you'll fall out on the other side of the world."
"I'm sorry," Blue said meekly.
"No you're not."
"Well," Blue shrugged. Then, with a little more sympathy, "Is that why you always kept your hood up?"
Black rolled her eyes. "Yes, Blue. I've kept my face hidden from the world because I am afraid of being gawked at." Her words were dripping with sarcasm.
"I was just trying to be nice," Blue retorted, with a twinge of hurt.
Black sighed. "You know, Blue, scars and songs can tell one's life story."
Blue waited for an explanation, but it didn't seem as though one was coming. "Care to explain that?" she asked.
"No," Black answered.
Fitful visions visited Black that night, as she sat alone in the corner of the room in the dark, where Red snored contentedly and Blue dreamed wistfully.
She did her best to stave off the bombardment of sights and sounds of long ago, that could never really be forgotten. Her eyes glazed over as she no longer saw the other thieves around her, or the beds they slept on, or even the small, wooden room. Instead, she saw fire.
The tents burned; flames greedily consuming their canvas walls, rising ever higher toward the sky, illuminating the night with a satanic glow.
Women screamed, babies cried, and men shouted as sinister forms rode wildly by on dark, devilish beasts, cutting down and running through every being in their path.
"Randi!" she yelled desperately. "Randi!"
She stood in the middle of a ring of fire, confused, afraid; alone. Time slowed, so that every second lasted a lifetime. Then a rift appeared in the wall of flames, and one of the black silhouetted demons methodically, toyingly, came through. The demonic steed snorted, its eyes rimmed in red, as the figure atop it drew its long, curved blade. It stepped closer, faster, until it was barreling straight down on top of her. There was excruciating pain, and the fire closing in all around…
"Black!" Green shouted again.
Their leader's head jerked back, and she looked up, the glassy glaze slowly retreating from her eyes. Green gave her a look. 'You're all right. Let's go,' it said. Black nodded and got to her feet.
Green followed her out the door, with Red, oblivious, close behind. Blue left last, and as she shut the door behind her she furrowed her brow in thought. Something profound was being kept from her. Something critical; but she had no idea what.
Red stood glowering on the docks; arms folded in front of her chest, mouth curved downward in a whiny pout. She kept muttering something about hating water, then looking longingly back toward the town. Blue shrugged. Red always was the crazy one.
Green stood at the helm, grasping the wheel firmly and beaming out over the ship and crowded port. This was the first time Green had ever really looked at home. A smile crept into Blue's mind as the thought dawned on her that Green was in love with a boat.
Then there was Black. The dark, plotting, menacing, cruel, and just downright cold-hearted witch. Out of all the thieves, Black made the least amount of sense. She loaded the Dragonfire with their barrels of stolen Elvish wine and gold, lifting the crates over her head with ease, and then swinging them over the rail, onto the deck; a feat inhuman in Blue's mind.
"Do we have to go by boat?" Red whined as the other thieves began readying the ship for departure.
"Yes," Black answered shortly, shoving Red up the plank. Red flung her arms out to grab hold of the deck railing, and cautiously stepped forward, keeping a wary eye on the water the whole time, as if it were a snake about ready to jump up and bite her.
Blue boarded the boat, not reluctantly, but somewhat weary. A deep, primal, part of her wanted to explore the magic of the ocean; learn the water's secrets, but another part of her was mourning her departure from Middle-earth. What lay beyond was a mystery, and all hope of ever seeing Legolas again dissipated on the brisk sea wind.
Black untied the Dragonfire and soon the sails were filled and the ship moving.