I have been worrying about how to get Legolas back, and he has even escaped my plans. Don't worry, I have a very vague idea, and it involves two of my own creations: Klia and Varda (the horse, not the actual Varda). Other characters will probably be involved too. Okay; enough on that subject.
I hope that you all enjoy chapter nine-Romen
9. Connections
Elladan groaned. He had a terrible headache. His mind raced through the events that happened last night. Glorfindel going back to the camps, Elladan taking watch, Legolas...
Legolas! Elladan stood up and opened his eyes. Legolas was nowhere to be seen. Elladan cursed under his breath. He had been so foolish to think that his friend had returned so quickly. He had allowed Legolas...to do, what?
It didn't take Elladan long to figure that out. He turned around and noticed that his horse was gone. He sighed, sitting down and putting his head in his hands. Things just seemed to be getting worse and worse. First, Estel died, and now, this. The oldest twin wondered what Estel would have said about Legolas's strange behavior.
An irritated sounding neigh reminded Elladan that he was not alone. He turned around, thinking Varda was still in the pit, but she was standing on the higher-ground, looking exhausted. Elladan walked over and patted her nose.
"What's going on with him?" Elladan asked softly. "Do you have any idea, hey, girl?"
Elladan sighed, turning around. It didn't seem as if Glorfindel or Legolas was anywhere near him. He couldn't sense their presence. He turned back around to face Varda. "Do you think that you can make it back to the camp?"
Varda nodded. Elladan grabbed her neck, trying not to look at the nasty wound on her thigh. He swallowed, took a deep breath, and then pulled himself up onto her back. Varda showed no sign of feeling any pain. He stroked her neck, and they started off at a trot.
-
Legolas pulled his cloak around his shoulders. It suddenly felt very cold out, even though the sun was shining and the sky was incredibly blue. He gripped Rowan's mane a bit tighter, his head-swimming. He leaned forward and let himself relax against Rowans neck, wrapping his arms around her, hoping that he wouldn't fall off. He had been having these dizzy spells ever since he had woken up last night.
He hadn't meant to take so long when he was searching for those herbs and filling the water keg, but he had gotten so dizzy that he had to sit down and wait for the feeling to pass. He wasn't used to having these symptoms. He wondered what it could mean...
Legolas yawned into Rowan's mane, forcing himself to sit up straight. When he wasn't having an adrenaline rush, he was incredibly weary. He longed to go lie down and sleep. He had slept the night before, but he had felt restless and had been troubled by ill dreams. He longed to sleep, to actually be able to sleep, without any worries again.
Rowan traveled so slowly. He regretted not having found some way to make Varda come out onto the ground. She ran at a much faster pace. Legolas yawned again.
SMACK.
Legolas opened his eyes. He was laying flat on his back, staring up at the sky. His forehead felt sore. He sat up. Rowan was running off up ahead.
"Stop! STOP!" he commanded, but she continued running. Legolas put a hand to his forehead. There was a little blood, and it was sore to the touch. Even though he already knew what he'd see, he looked up.
He had hit his head against a low hanging branch. He could hardly believe that he'd been stupid enough to miss it. He cursed under his breath, and then kicked a stone in the ground.
What was he going to do now? He couldn't go back to the camp, and he couldn't continue forward without a steed.
A sudden idea hit him. He could wait for someone else to pass, and then take their horse. People did it all of the time.
In the mean time, he would rest.
-
Estel slid one eyelid open slowly. He wondered, groggily, what time it was.
"You worry about time, don't you?" Hadn't Klia said something like that to him? Perhaps she was right. Still, he was their prisoner...
It was funny to think that he was their prisoner when they treated him so hospitably. At least, Klia did. He hadn't met any of the others.
Estel heard the flap move. He sat up, his head no longer spinning. Another woman had entered. She slowly scanned the hut, her eyes narrowed and her nostrils flaring. She had wild blonde hair that she hadn't even tried to comb or pull back, and her clothes hung on her loosely, like a sack. This had been Aragorn's only impression of the female Wild Women when he had come there. He wondered why Klia seemed so clean and nice, when Fila (this had to be her) seemed so shabby.
Fila's eyes finally rested on him. She smirked, strutting over to one of the chairs and sitting down, crossing her legs.
"So," she said, her voice raspy, "you're the one that everyone is talking about."
Estel swallowed. "I beg your pardon?"
"You're 'the prisoner.'" She held up her fingers, quoting. "I imagined you looking a bit more...gruff. At least, that's how they described you."
Estel considered the point of this seemingly meaningless conversation. "And how do I look, my lady?"
Fila snorted, as if his manners were completely wasted on her. "I suppose that you wouldn't know that, not having any mirrors around. Your kind use mirrors, do they not? Or, should I say, the kind that you dwell with?"
Estel didn't try any longer to hide his distaste. "Yes, I am accustomed to using mirrors. Are you trying to say that your people don't?"
Fila crossed her arms. "We don't need mirrors."
Estel longed to somehow shy her away, but he didn't. "I can see that."
Fila sat still for a moment. Slowly, a smile began to spread across her face. She began to chuckle, and those small chuckles soon turned into blossoms of laughter. What Estel had intended to be an insult had turned out to be a source for her amusement!
"I like you, Estel," Fila said, still smiling.
Estel sighed. "How do you know my name?"
"Klia talks about you all of the time. At dinner, during work..." Fila waved her hand. "She seems to take a great liking to you."
Estel's face grew hot as he felt Fila's gaze sweep around it. Obviously, she was one who wouldn't hesitate to instigate a bit of trouble. She was probably the village's main source of gossip. It would explain her rare appearance. Of course, Estel hadn't seen anyone but Klia in the house...
"Where does everyone go all day and night?" he asked, looking away and once again observing the things around him. Fila sounded disappointed.
"We work," she said simply, leaning forward. "We women work in the fields and in the stables, in the mill and the taverns, while our men work at the hunt. Now, though, most of the men are preoccupied with war, so we women have even more chores to do." She sneered. "Thanks to your kind, I have these blisters on my hands, and they will continue to trouble me for quite some time." She revealed her blistered hands. Estel stopped himself from recoiling at her barbaric behavior.
"I assure you, woman, the elves have nothing to do with your blistered hands." He paused. "If you were to meet one, they might try to heal them."
"Oh yes, I'm sure they would," Fila said sarcastically. "I'm sure they would."
"You do not believe me?"
Fila uncrossed her legs, once again scrutinizing him. "I suppose Berve is right about you. I used to think that he was just insane but now, I think that he may just be right."
"What do you mean?" Estel leaned forward.
Fila stood. "Well, I have lots of work to do. I should be going."
"No, wait!" Estel cried. "Tell me what you mean!"
Fila ignored him. She continued walking. Just as she was about to exit, she smiled playfully (no doubt to further provoke him).
Estel scowled.
-
Klia stood in front of Fila, her eyes narrowed. Fila nearly walked in to her as she went outside.
"Klia, what are you doing? Pretending to be a fence post?"
"What were you doing in there?" Klia asked, her voice full of suspicion.
Fila smiled. "Nothing, just talking to that prisoner." She grew serious. "I think that you and Berve are right. It surely is him, even though I haven't even met him." Her gaze swept over Klia's face. "What, are you having doubts?"
"Oh, no, of course not." Klia pursed her lips. "It's just...It is my charge to care for him, not yours. Let me do my job. Please."
Fila shrugged. "If you insist. Just don't forget to care for the brat."
"Her name is Prea," Klia snapped. "She's your own daughter; why don't you look after her?"
"She's Berve's daughter, not mine." Fila waved the subject away. "Besides, she likes you better than me."
Klia was about to protest just as Fila walked off. How that woman infuriated her!
Klia felt small arms warp around her legs. "Mother, does she really not like me?"
Klia wrapped her arms around Prea and lifted her. "No dear, of course she doesn't. She is just tired."
Prea frowned. "Then she is tired a lot."
Klia stroked the child's hair. "Yes, she is tired a lot. Now, why don't you go along and play with the other children? I have work that I need to do."
Prea nodded, running off. Klia watched her before silently resigning to the confinement of the hut.
IwishChan: Yes, you are right. Klia does care for Estel. However, does Estel care for her...? I hope you enjoyed this chapter!