Black Eyes
Chapter Five: Al Araaf
by Capella
A/N: See? I told you it would come out sooner!
The title of this chapter is an Edgar Allen Poe poem, not the quote that I have below, though. If you haven't read it, read it. It's gorgeous. The quote I thought was neat, because it sort of can be interpreted in this story as several things. I won't tell you which one it refers to in my mind. You decide.
Man, I'm just on a roll with the steamy stuff. First it was Harry demanding smut, and now it's Haldir and Draco. Honestly. Men. Jeez. Er, not that it wasn't extremely, ridiculously fun writing seductive!Draco and oblivious!Haldir. Mmmm.
IMPORTANT. This chapter gets a tad graphic in the violence department. Well, not violence really. More like some gore. If you don't want to read it, don't worry, it's not really necessary for the story.
Well, pull up a chair, sit a while, and enjoy chapter five of Black Eyes: Al Araaf.
_________________________
"A star was discovered by Tycho Brahe which
appeared suddenly in the heavens -- attained,
in a few days, a brilliancy surpassing that of
Jupiter -- then as suddenly disappeared, and
has never been seen since."
-- Edgar Allen Poe
_________________________
"Impossible," Harry breathed. Legolas barely heard him over the sudden pounding of his heart that seemed to echo in his head. He couldn't seem to take his eyes off the woman lying on the bed. "I thought -- Aragorn, you said she was dead --"
Legolas had only talked to Katherine once, in Rivendell, a few days after she had been found. They had ran into each other on the way to a council. He remembered her as tall -- almost as tall as he was -- and serious to a fault, with long brown curly hair and somber hazel eyes. He had found it hard to like her; at the council, she argued with almost everything that Elrond had said, and her ideas were unfeeling and cold at best, but the thing he had liked least about her was that, at least while he'd been around, she had never shown any emotion of any kind. Her eyes bothered him sometimes, the way they never changed. Now staring down at someone he'd thought long dead, he felt a wave of pity.
She was nothing like he'd remembered her. He found himself wanting to shield Fiona's eyes from her brutalized frame, but then felt a familiar prick of guilt when he realized that after Harry's brief visit to Mordor, he had looked almost as bad as she.
Katherine had never appeared to have an inch of fat on her before, but now her tall frame was completely emaciated. Her clothes hung off of her, her cheekbones cast into sharp relief. Her hair hung in dirty, lank waves on her shoulders. There were long gouges covering her arms that looked faintly like they'd been made from claws. Legolas winced a bit when he remembered his own experience with an Orc's sharp fingernails. Fading bruises dotted her body.
"Mommy?" Fiona said again, her voice trembling.
Something about Katherine was not right. Considering the brutality that she had obviously endured, Legolas had expected her eyes to be dull and lifeless, but there was something strange, a milky color, about her eyes. Legolas looked at Harry, who was staring straight ahead with an expression of shock on his face, and realized what was wrong with Katherine's eyes. She was blind.
That was about when Legolas realized that there were straps around down Katherine's legs and arms, holding her efficiently to the bed.
"Please, Mommy, say something to me!" Legolas could hear the tears in Fiona's voice.
Katherine came alive suddenly, struggling in her bonds and growling deep in her throat. Her eyes stared lifelessly at the ceiling, but there was something in her expression that Legolas had never seen before. It was feral and frightening and not altogether sane.
Gandalf walked over from where he'd been standing in the doorway and laid a hand on Fiona's shoulder. "She has been through a great deal of trauma," he said gently as Fiona stared in horrified distress at her mother. "In the few times she's been awake, she has alternated between what you see now and a semblance of sanity." He glanced at Katherine, who was arched up, snarling and almost bending double, in an effort to get free. "Aragorn, get the athelas."
Aragorn nodded wordlessly and retrieved a small bowl on the dresser; approaching Katherine warily, he held the bowl, which Legolas assumed held crushed leaves, under her nose.
She slumped so suddenly that Legolas saw Draco jump from beside him. Gandalf took his hand off Fiona's shoulder. Katherine lay still; Legolas couldn't tell if her chest moved with the intake of breath or not.
"Is she --" Fiona started but then stopped, biting her lower lip, afraid to ask what they were all wondering.
"Is she what?" Harry demanded. "What happened?" Legolas realized suddenly that Harry didn't know she was blind -- or insane. And he had no idea how to go around breaking the news to Harry that the only other wizard who went blind upon going to Middle-earth consequently ended up mad. Of course, she could have gone insane from the years -- years! -- of being trapped in Mordor, as an Orc plaything and who knew what else.
"No, she is not dead," Gandalf said, though he looked troubled. "She is merely unconscious. I hoped that the athelas would have a different affect than making her sleep. It seems that someone else will have to tell you what happened to her."
"It's about time," Draco groused quietly. Harry elbowed him in the ribs. But Gandalf made no move to speak.
"I was so young then," Aragorn said quietly. Legolas glanced over at him, but Aragorn was staring at Katherine's face while he spoke. "I suppose it is my fault. I only had assumed her dead. How could anyone survive what had happened? We were on our way to Osgiliath -- the number of Orcs venturing outside the borders of Mordor were rapidly growing, and they wanted assistance and council. We brought Katherine along in the hopes that one of their healers could assist her where we could not. An impossible task, but we had no other choice. But one night, Orcs attacked our camp. It was only a few elves and I, and we were woefully unprepared. A few of us managed to escape. The rest were slaughtered, or so we thought. That is why, Harry, I told you that Katherine was dead."
Gandalf picked up when Aragorn stopped. "From that point on we assumed Katherine had been killed. It was only a few weeks ago that we were proved wrong. In the cleansing of Mordor and Barad-dur, we found many prisoners, but all were dead, except for this woman. We found her chained and unconscious in room adjacent to what we assume was the throne room. She was blind, as you can see now."
Legolas felt Harry stiffen at his side. "You mean to tell me that Katherine is blind, too?" he said in a hoarse voice. "I mean -- I heard Fiona say something about her eyes, but I didn't think --" He broke off, looking bewildered. Draco laid a hand on his shoulder and Harry leaned into the touch, leaving Legolas suddenly feeling, though he knew he had no reason to be, jealous. He hated feeling that way when he was sure -- at least, he hoped he was sure -- that there was nothing but friendly comfort in Draco's touch, and nothing but a need for comfort in Harry's reaction. It was one of those strange changes that Harry had somehow inflicted upon Legolas when Legolas had fallen in love with him, this irritating loss of judgment. He suppressed a completely out-of-character smile. The perks seemed to be worth his changes.
Suddenly he realized that he'd missed the last part of what Harry had said. Gandalf was already replying.
"We have not been able to find why Katherine went blind, and it is possible that it is completely unrelated with your own blindness. But you can see why that is very, very unlikely." Harry nodded, looking a bit pale, and Gandalf continued. "However, you both have something in common. You were both inhabited by powerful spirits. Since that is the only connection we could find, that's what we assume."
Harry frowned. "But -- Gandalf, I don't think that's right. Why would that have an effect on my eyesight? And why wouldn't it have happened when the spirit was taking me over, and happened weeks afterward instead?" He crossed his arms over his chest. Gandalf chuckled.
"I did not say my theory was flawless. But I cannot think of anything else. Can you?"
Harry pursed his lips slightly in the way he did when he thought hard, and Legolas had the nearly uncontrollable urge to kiss him. "No," Harry said finally. Gandalf nodded. "But what can I do? I need to get rid of it. I don't want to -- I can't live like this."
"You can, and you will," Gandalf said firmly. "You have to accept that there is no cure and that you will have to live like you are now for the rest of your life. If you want it to cripple you, ruin you, than that is not my concern. But you must think of how curling up and giving in will affect those who care for you." There was no need for Gandalf to say who he meant. Legolas nearly protested -- he did not want to be used to make Harry feel guilty -- but some part of his mind acknowledged the fact that he did not want Harry to curl up and die, and that perhaps this was exactly what Harry needed.
"And you know exactly how I should live, Gandalf?" Harry said in a flare of anger, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. He sneered, and it was frightening to see how natural it looked on his face. "What the hell do you know? Do you ever do anything useful? All you've done so far is give me shit and tell me to believe it. And now you want me to listen to you? I died because I listened to you!" His knuckles were turning white, and with a surge of alarm Legolas saw blood trickling down Harry's hands from where he had dug his fingernails into his palms. Draco warily removed his hand from Harry's shoulder. "I fucking hate you!"
Gandalf stood calmly during Harry's outburst, and when it was finished, all he said was, "You will do as you see fit." With that, he swept out of the room, Aragorn, Fiona, and Draco following him. Draco cast a last worried look over his shoulder at Harry.
As soon as Gandalf crossed the threshold of the door it was as if Harry had been a puppet on strings, and those strings had been abruptly cut. His shoulders slumped. Most of the anger drained from his face only to be replaced by a vague sort of confusion.
"I just yelled at Gandalf," he said, looking like he did not believe it himself. "Why did I --" He broke off, shaking his head. Legolas realized that Harry did not know he was still in the room. A sign of how distressed Harry was.
"Why did you?" Legolas asked carefully. Harry jumped, and his head swung in Legolas's direction.
"I don't know," he murmured, looking troubled, but a trace of anger still colored his voice. "Just -- he was making me so mad, telling me how to live my life. Like I need his advice when he doesn't even know what's wrong with me. But I don't think I should have gotten that angry." He exhaled and looked guilty. "I need to apologize, don't I? I don't know why I said all that, and half of it probably wasn't true, either -- I know listening to him wasn't the reason that I ended up dead. That was my fault, wasn't it?"
Legolas decided not to answer and took once of Harry's hands in his own, uncurling it from its tight fist to find five gouge marks in Harry's palm, bleeding sluggishly. He did the same with Harry's other hand, running his fingers gently over Harry's hand. Harry's lips quirked up in a brief smile. He grabbed hold of Legolas's wrist and brought Legolas's hand to his mouth. His breath caught in his throat as Harry slowly slid Legolas's index finger into his mouth. Harry's pale eyes glittered wickedly in the candlelight.
"We cannot --" Legolas said, voice hoarse, sounding unconvinced even to himself. Harry made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded faintly like agreement even as he sucked another finger into his mouth. Legolas took a breath and tried to compose himself. "Harry. Stop, now." There. That sounded almost firm enough to be sincere.
Grinning, Harry released his fingers, but not before giving an impudent nip to the end of one. "If you say so, Legolas," he said cheekily. His rage looked to be completely dissipated, to Legolas's relief. "I would feel sort of strange doing anything in front of someone's mother, after all."
"Harry, about what Gandalf said --"
Harry's lips tightened, but Legolas kept on, wrapping his arms around Harry's waist to pacify him.
"I know it is not ideal, being as you are, but the last thing in the world I want is for you to give up. I want you to be happy, or as happy as you can be under the circumstances. There are other senses besides sight that you can use almost as well. I want to help you. So starting tomorrow, I will begin helping you get used to your blindness."
Harry sighed against his chest, but nodded. Legolas let go of him reluctantly.
"Come," he said, and took Harry's hand, careful of his injury. "I do not want someone to come looking for us."
Suddenly he felt Harry's hand clench like a vice on his own, and Harry's eyes seemed to almost focus on his face. For a moment the milky white color of his eyes was gone, and the blinding green color of his irises shone in the flickering light of the candles. Just as quickly the pale sheen was back. Harry's face was white.
"What was that?" Legolas demanded, his grip on Harry's hand as tight as Harry's had been only a few ago. For a moment Harry looked almost unsure.
"I have a headache," he said a split second later, and when Legolas caught Harry's chin and tilted his head, watching the candlelight on Harry's pale eyes, he did not say a word.
___________________________
"If you say so," Legolas said but did not let go of Harry's jaw. Harry knew what he had been doing -- inspecting his eyes -- and Harry wondered how in God's name he was going to explain it away if his eyes had changed. He didn't even know what had happened himself, but suddenly he had been staring at Legolas's tunic, and when he'd tilted his head up, he'd seen Legolas staring down at him in confusion. It had happened once before, on the plains when they had first arrived, but Harry had been willing to dismiss it as imagination. He could not dismiss it twice. He hoped that Legolas couldn't feel the shaking in his limbs.
He didn't have to see Legolas to know the expression on his face -- puzzlement, worry, love. It was as if, from that one brief glance, Legolas's image had been burned into his skull.
Legolas let go of his chin and took his wrist in a firm grip instead. "You need to rest," Legolas said finally after a long moment of silence. There was something unidentifiable in his voice. It sounded a bit too much like hurt for Harry's liking.
"We just got up," Harry said, trying to convey in his voice that yes, he was fine, he just had a headache. "I don't need any more sleep."
When Legolas spoke again, he sounded amused. "But Harry, we did not do much sleeping last night, did we?" He sighed. "Is there any way that I can get you to go back to our rooms and get some rest?"
"If you're there with me."
It came out before he meant it to, but after he said it, he realized that an hour or so curled up with Legolas would probably do him a lot of good. Maybe it would deflate his temper -- God, he'd yelled at Gandalf! He couldn't seem to figure out why, but in those brief few moments, he had hated that wizard like he'd never hated anyone in his life.
Legolas's voice broke through his thoughts.
"Just sleeping, right?"
Harry laughed at Legolas's guarded tone. "Yes, Legolas. I promise, just sleeping."
Of course, truth be told, he had no intention of keeping to *that* particular promise.
_________________________
Draco soon found himself with absolutely nothing to do, and he began to think that coming on this little jaunt was not his best idea.
In retrospect, it was probably one of his worst.
He stared at the ceiling from where he lay on his back, the mattress beneath him surprisingly comfortable for what seemed a relatively uncivilized place. One thing he'd discovered was that during the day the castle seemed heated up, the stone walls acting effectively as an oven. So he was not only bored now but hot.
"This was definitely not one of my best ideas," he muttered to himself and wiped a droplet of sweat from his forehead. He'd wanted to go outside, since outside there was a breeze and it wasn't so hot, but all those stares from the people of the city had drove him back to his room. He didn't know why they stared so -- Aragorn had given him a white tunic, brown leggings, and soft leather boots instead of his black shirt and jeans. He had to admit that it was decidedly cooler than what he had been wearing.
Draco sighed and shifted slightly, trying to find a cooler spot on the sheets. God, he was baking. He thought suddenly about leaving his room and going to the basement, where it would probably be a lot cooler, but the heat drove him into such a lazy state that he couldn't seem to find it in himself to move.
Maybe he should take off his shirt. Anything to get away from this oppressive heat.
But what if someone walked in?
"Oh, fuck it," he snarled finally, nearly ripping the seams off his shirt in his haste to get it off. He flung it to the side and flopped back down on the bed, feeling a little bit better, better enough at least to go to sleep and escape the heat that way.
Sleep had almost engulfed him when the door of his room swung open with a bang. Draco didn't even open his eyes. If it was a servant, they could deal with it, and if it was Harry, than it was nothing that he hadn't seen before.
"Oh -- I am sorry, I thought this was Rumil's room --"
His eyes popped open at the sound of Haldir's voice.
"Haven't you harassed me enough?" he snapped, sitting up and completely forgetting about his state of undress. Haldir's eyes flew up from where they'd been staring and made a noise in the back of his throat. It sounded very suspiciously like a tiny groan. Draco felt a small smirk threaten to show on his face and he had to look away in a pretense of picking something off the blanket so that it wouldn't show.
Haldir already had himself under that cool control again by the time Draco looked back at him.
"I apologize," the elf said icily. "I thought this room was my brother's. I will leave you in peace, since my presence so obviously irritates you."
"No, it's not that," Draco said, yawning and making a show of reaching his arms above his head and stretching. "The heat's making me irritable. But anyways, I'm bored now. Come talk to me." He patted the bed next to him.
Haldir stared at the spot Draco patted like it was a snarling Warg. "About what?" he said warily but moving towards the bed all the same. Draco gave him an encouraging smile -- he tried to make it a smile and not a smirk, but he'd been only doing one of them for so many years that he wasn't sure -- when Haldir finally sat down. The elf's back was ramrod straight and he stared straight ahead.
"Oh, I don't care," Draco said, shrugging. "Tell me about this place you're going to be moving to in a few days. Tell me about Aragorn. Just talk."
Haldir gave him a glance, but started talking anyways. "I don't know much about Valinor, since I have never been there myself. But I know the stories, and Harry told me a good deal about it as well. It is supposed to be the most beautiful place on earth, but it is impossible for anyone to reach unless they are elven, have an elven guide, or have been ordained to pass by the Valar themselves. There is only one road to get there, the Straight Road. Any man that tried to get there would circle the globe, but an elf on a ship would leave the Bent Lands and travel through the air as if on a mighty bridge invisible." He let out a sigh. "How I long for it."
Draco, who up until this point had been mesmerized by Haldir's soothing voice, found himself suddenly and inexplicably saddened. "Is there any way back from Valinor?" he said in a hushed voice, not wanting to break the strange magic that had descended upon the room.
"I do not know," Haldir said just as quietly. "But why would any elf, seeing the beauty of all the Valar and the perfection of Valinor, want to return to such an imperfect world as this?"
And Draco found himself wanting to give Haldir a reason why he should return. Haldir turned and their eyes met, and something strange tingled its way down Draco's spine. Haldir appeared just as caught as he.
"What else would you like to know?" Haldir said, breaking the spell, and Draco blinked as he was brought rudely back to the real world, where it was hot and sweat trickled down his back and there was a very stiff, very reluctant elf sitting next to him, and he still had a seduction to plan.
"Tell me about where you used to live."
Haldir sighed. "I was a guard in Lothlorien. It was a place more beautiful than the stars, and inhabited by a lady who was more radiant than the sun. It --"
As Haldir continued, Draco watched as he because caught up in his memories, eyes staring at the wall and a small smile lurking about his lips. Finally, Draco could take it no longer. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the hollow of Haldir's throat.
"And Galadriel and Celeb -- what are you doing?" He sounded faintly startled but not repulsed. Draco smiled against Haldir's skin.
"I am sucking on your neck," he said simply and proceeded to do just that. Haldir made an inarticulate noise of shock from above him and put his hands on Draco's shoulders, pushing him back. A pair of astonished green eyes stared down at him.
"Why in the Valar did you --" He had to cut off suddenly because Draco, on an impulse, leaned forward and took Haldir's lower lip between his teeth, worrying it gently. Haldir made another one of those noises and Draco just had to kiss him.
"Stop it," Haldir said after he finally broke away, sounding not at all breathless like Draco suspected he himself would sound the minute he tried to talk. "Why are you doing this?" Draco heard the tiniest bit of strain in his voice and arched an eyebrow.
"Why not?" he asked smoothly and leaned in for another kiss. Haldir turned his head at the last minute and Draco kissed the smooth slope of his neck like that had been his intention the whole time.
"I am serious, Draco. Stop this. Stop -- oh -- "
Draco had bitten down lightly on the curve where Haldir's neck met his shoulder. He leaned up and succeeded finally in capturing Haldir's lips for another kiss. Slowly, he pushed his hand against Haldir's shoulder, making the elf sink down on his back on the bed. Draco felt the tiniest bit of response in the kiss and fought the urge to grin. He was finally getting somewhere.
There was the sound of footsteps at the door and a muted gasp.
"God damn it, is everyone going to barge in on me today?" he growled under his breath, breaking the kiss and turning to see who was in the door. Haldir gave a jerk from beneath him and the elf sat ups so fast that Draco nearly fell off the bed.
"Rumil, this is not what it looks like, I swear it."
Rumil's keen eyes took in Draco's state of undress and Haldir's flushed face and swollen bottom lip. "If you say so, brother," the elf said, gaze drifting to the bruise that was appearing on Haldir's neck. A tiny smile appeared on his face. "I was only wondering where you had gone off to. No need to leave yet, of course. I shall just go back to my room."
"No," Haldir said. His voice was very nearly under control again. "No, I shall come with you. I meant to talk to you, anyways. I just came into the wrong room."
"I see," Rumil said, laughter in his voice. Draco wondered where the hell Haldir had gotten his prudishness, since his brother seemed to be fine with it. But he didn't want to seduce Haldir's brother, either.
Haldir left, casting one last icy glare over his shoulder. Draco returned it with a smoldering look of his own and winked. Haldir slammed the door with a bit more force than was necessary.
"Damn elves," he said to himself, but even as he did, he grinned and started planning his next meeting with the elf, and how exactly he could worm his way under that cold exterior. It would be interesting. And it seemed as if he had finally found a way to occupy his time.
_________________________
"I finally got rid of them, Legolas."
Harry came towards him with blood streaming down his face in rivers.
"I finally got rid of them, Legolas."
There was a relieved smile on Harry's face even as the blood poured down from his empty eye sockets and flowed into his mouth, staining his teeth a dark red.
"I finally got rid of them, Legolas."
He held out his hand for Legolas to see, and in his hands he held his two bloody eyes. The blood was making a pool around Harry's feet, but the horrible grin never slipped off his face. Harry turned away and spat out the blood that had been pooling in his mouth. It formed a puddle on the floor, and even as Legolas watched in horror, the blood shaped itself into a human form with Draco's face. Harry laughed.
"I finally got rid of them, Legolas."
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A/N: Review review! Be a do-gooder! Because I love your reviews. :)
Chapter Five: Al Araaf
by Capella
A/N: See? I told you it would come out sooner!
The title of this chapter is an Edgar Allen Poe poem, not the quote that I have below, though. If you haven't read it, read it. It's gorgeous. The quote I thought was neat, because it sort of can be interpreted in this story as several things. I won't tell you which one it refers to in my mind. You decide.
Man, I'm just on a roll with the steamy stuff. First it was Harry demanding smut, and now it's Haldir and Draco. Honestly. Men. Jeez. Er, not that it wasn't extremely, ridiculously fun writing seductive!Draco and oblivious!Haldir. Mmmm.
IMPORTANT. This chapter gets a tad graphic in the violence department. Well, not violence really. More like some gore. If you don't want to read it, don't worry, it's not really necessary for the story.
Well, pull up a chair, sit a while, and enjoy chapter five of Black Eyes: Al Araaf.
_________________________
"A star was discovered by Tycho Brahe which
appeared suddenly in the heavens -- attained,
in a few days, a brilliancy surpassing that of
Jupiter -- then as suddenly disappeared, and
has never been seen since."
-- Edgar Allen Poe
_________________________
"Impossible," Harry breathed. Legolas barely heard him over the sudden pounding of his heart that seemed to echo in his head. He couldn't seem to take his eyes off the woman lying on the bed. "I thought -- Aragorn, you said she was dead --"
Legolas had only talked to Katherine once, in Rivendell, a few days after she had been found. They had ran into each other on the way to a council. He remembered her as tall -- almost as tall as he was -- and serious to a fault, with long brown curly hair and somber hazel eyes. He had found it hard to like her; at the council, she argued with almost everything that Elrond had said, and her ideas were unfeeling and cold at best, but the thing he had liked least about her was that, at least while he'd been around, she had never shown any emotion of any kind. Her eyes bothered him sometimes, the way they never changed. Now staring down at someone he'd thought long dead, he felt a wave of pity.
She was nothing like he'd remembered her. He found himself wanting to shield Fiona's eyes from her brutalized frame, but then felt a familiar prick of guilt when he realized that after Harry's brief visit to Mordor, he had looked almost as bad as she.
Katherine had never appeared to have an inch of fat on her before, but now her tall frame was completely emaciated. Her clothes hung off of her, her cheekbones cast into sharp relief. Her hair hung in dirty, lank waves on her shoulders. There were long gouges covering her arms that looked faintly like they'd been made from claws. Legolas winced a bit when he remembered his own experience with an Orc's sharp fingernails. Fading bruises dotted her body.
"Mommy?" Fiona said again, her voice trembling.
Something about Katherine was not right. Considering the brutality that she had obviously endured, Legolas had expected her eyes to be dull and lifeless, but there was something strange, a milky color, about her eyes. Legolas looked at Harry, who was staring straight ahead with an expression of shock on his face, and realized what was wrong with Katherine's eyes. She was blind.
That was about when Legolas realized that there were straps around down Katherine's legs and arms, holding her efficiently to the bed.
"Please, Mommy, say something to me!" Legolas could hear the tears in Fiona's voice.
Katherine came alive suddenly, struggling in her bonds and growling deep in her throat. Her eyes stared lifelessly at the ceiling, but there was something in her expression that Legolas had never seen before. It was feral and frightening and not altogether sane.
Gandalf walked over from where he'd been standing in the doorway and laid a hand on Fiona's shoulder. "She has been through a great deal of trauma," he said gently as Fiona stared in horrified distress at her mother. "In the few times she's been awake, she has alternated between what you see now and a semblance of sanity." He glanced at Katherine, who was arched up, snarling and almost bending double, in an effort to get free. "Aragorn, get the athelas."
Aragorn nodded wordlessly and retrieved a small bowl on the dresser; approaching Katherine warily, he held the bowl, which Legolas assumed held crushed leaves, under her nose.
She slumped so suddenly that Legolas saw Draco jump from beside him. Gandalf took his hand off Fiona's shoulder. Katherine lay still; Legolas couldn't tell if her chest moved with the intake of breath or not.
"Is she --" Fiona started but then stopped, biting her lower lip, afraid to ask what they were all wondering.
"Is she what?" Harry demanded. "What happened?" Legolas realized suddenly that Harry didn't know she was blind -- or insane. And he had no idea how to go around breaking the news to Harry that the only other wizard who went blind upon going to Middle-earth consequently ended up mad. Of course, she could have gone insane from the years -- years! -- of being trapped in Mordor, as an Orc plaything and who knew what else.
"No, she is not dead," Gandalf said, though he looked troubled. "She is merely unconscious. I hoped that the athelas would have a different affect than making her sleep. It seems that someone else will have to tell you what happened to her."
"It's about time," Draco groused quietly. Harry elbowed him in the ribs. But Gandalf made no move to speak.
"I was so young then," Aragorn said quietly. Legolas glanced over at him, but Aragorn was staring at Katherine's face while he spoke. "I suppose it is my fault. I only had assumed her dead. How could anyone survive what had happened? We were on our way to Osgiliath -- the number of Orcs venturing outside the borders of Mordor were rapidly growing, and they wanted assistance and council. We brought Katherine along in the hopes that one of their healers could assist her where we could not. An impossible task, but we had no other choice. But one night, Orcs attacked our camp. It was only a few elves and I, and we were woefully unprepared. A few of us managed to escape. The rest were slaughtered, or so we thought. That is why, Harry, I told you that Katherine was dead."
Gandalf picked up when Aragorn stopped. "From that point on we assumed Katherine had been killed. It was only a few weeks ago that we were proved wrong. In the cleansing of Mordor and Barad-dur, we found many prisoners, but all were dead, except for this woman. We found her chained and unconscious in room adjacent to what we assume was the throne room. She was blind, as you can see now."
Legolas felt Harry stiffen at his side. "You mean to tell me that Katherine is blind, too?" he said in a hoarse voice. "I mean -- I heard Fiona say something about her eyes, but I didn't think --" He broke off, looking bewildered. Draco laid a hand on his shoulder and Harry leaned into the touch, leaving Legolas suddenly feeling, though he knew he had no reason to be, jealous. He hated feeling that way when he was sure -- at least, he hoped he was sure -- that there was nothing but friendly comfort in Draco's touch, and nothing but a need for comfort in Harry's reaction. It was one of those strange changes that Harry had somehow inflicted upon Legolas when Legolas had fallen in love with him, this irritating loss of judgment. He suppressed a completely out-of-character smile. The perks seemed to be worth his changes.
Suddenly he realized that he'd missed the last part of what Harry had said. Gandalf was already replying.
"We have not been able to find why Katherine went blind, and it is possible that it is completely unrelated with your own blindness. But you can see why that is very, very unlikely." Harry nodded, looking a bit pale, and Gandalf continued. "However, you both have something in common. You were both inhabited by powerful spirits. Since that is the only connection we could find, that's what we assume."
Harry frowned. "But -- Gandalf, I don't think that's right. Why would that have an effect on my eyesight? And why wouldn't it have happened when the spirit was taking me over, and happened weeks afterward instead?" He crossed his arms over his chest. Gandalf chuckled.
"I did not say my theory was flawless. But I cannot think of anything else. Can you?"
Harry pursed his lips slightly in the way he did when he thought hard, and Legolas had the nearly uncontrollable urge to kiss him. "No," Harry said finally. Gandalf nodded. "But what can I do? I need to get rid of it. I don't want to -- I can't live like this."
"You can, and you will," Gandalf said firmly. "You have to accept that there is no cure and that you will have to live like you are now for the rest of your life. If you want it to cripple you, ruin you, than that is not my concern. But you must think of how curling up and giving in will affect those who care for you." There was no need for Gandalf to say who he meant. Legolas nearly protested -- he did not want to be used to make Harry feel guilty -- but some part of his mind acknowledged the fact that he did not want Harry to curl up and die, and that perhaps this was exactly what Harry needed.
"And you know exactly how I should live, Gandalf?" Harry said in a flare of anger, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. He sneered, and it was frightening to see how natural it looked on his face. "What the hell do you know? Do you ever do anything useful? All you've done so far is give me shit and tell me to believe it. And now you want me to listen to you? I died because I listened to you!" His knuckles were turning white, and with a surge of alarm Legolas saw blood trickling down Harry's hands from where he had dug his fingernails into his palms. Draco warily removed his hand from Harry's shoulder. "I fucking hate you!"
Gandalf stood calmly during Harry's outburst, and when it was finished, all he said was, "You will do as you see fit." With that, he swept out of the room, Aragorn, Fiona, and Draco following him. Draco cast a last worried look over his shoulder at Harry.
As soon as Gandalf crossed the threshold of the door it was as if Harry had been a puppet on strings, and those strings had been abruptly cut. His shoulders slumped. Most of the anger drained from his face only to be replaced by a vague sort of confusion.
"I just yelled at Gandalf," he said, looking like he did not believe it himself. "Why did I --" He broke off, shaking his head. Legolas realized that Harry did not know he was still in the room. A sign of how distressed Harry was.
"Why did you?" Legolas asked carefully. Harry jumped, and his head swung in Legolas's direction.
"I don't know," he murmured, looking troubled, but a trace of anger still colored his voice. "Just -- he was making me so mad, telling me how to live my life. Like I need his advice when he doesn't even know what's wrong with me. But I don't think I should have gotten that angry." He exhaled and looked guilty. "I need to apologize, don't I? I don't know why I said all that, and half of it probably wasn't true, either -- I know listening to him wasn't the reason that I ended up dead. That was my fault, wasn't it?"
Legolas decided not to answer and took once of Harry's hands in his own, uncurling it from its tight fist to find five gouge marks in Harry's palm, bleeding sluggishly. He did the same with Harry's other hand, running his fingers gently over Harry's hand. Harry's lips quirked up in a brief smile. He grabbed hold of Legolas's wrist and brought Legolas's hand to his mouth. His breath caught in his throat as Harry slowly slid Legolas's index finger into his mouth. Harry's pale eyes glittered wickedly in the candlelight.
"We cannot --" Legolas said, voice hoarse, sounding unconvinced even to himself. Harry made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded faintly like agreement even as he sucked another finger into his mouth. Legolas took a breath and tried to compose himself. "Harry. Stop, now." There. That sounded almost firm enough to be sincere.
Grinning, Harry released his fingers, but not before giving an impudent nip to the end of one. "If you say so, Legolas," he said cheekily. His rage looked to be completely dissipated, to Legolas's relief. "I would feel sort of strange doing anything in front of someone's mother, after all."
"Harry, about what Gandalf said --"
Harry's lips tightened, but Legolas kept on, wrapping his arms around Harry's waist to pacify him.
"I know it is not ideal, being as you are, but the last thing in the world I want is for you to give up. I want you to be happy, or as happy as you can be under the circumstances. There are other senses besides sight that you can use almost as well. I want to help you. So starting tomorrow, I will begin helping you get used to your blindness."
Harry sighed against his chest, but nodded. Legolas let go of him reluctantly.
"Come," he said, and took Harry's hand, careful of his injury. "I do not want someone to come looking for us."
Suddenly he felt Harry's hand clench like a vice on his own, and Harry's eyes seemed to almost focus on his face. For a moment the milky white color of his eyes was gone, and the blinding green color of his irises shone in the flickering light of the candles. Just as quickly the pale sheen was back. Harry's face was white.
"What was that?" Legolas demanded, his grip on Harry's hand as tight as Harry's had been only a few ago. For a moment Harry looked almost unsure.
"I have a headache," he said a split second later, and when Legolas caught Harry's chin and tilted his head, watching the candlelight on Harry's pale eyes, he did not say a word.
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"If you say so," Legolas said but did not let go of Harry's jaw. Harry knew what he had been doing -- inspecting his eyes -- and Harry wondered how in God's name he was going to explain it away if his eyes had changed. He didn't even know what had happened himself, but suddenly he had been staring at Legolas's tunic, and when he'd tilted his head up, he'd seen Legolas staring down at him in confusion. It had happened once before, on the plains when they had first arrived, but Harry had been willing to dismiss it as imagination. He could not dismiss it twice. He hoped that Legolas couldn't feel the shaking in his limbs.
He didn't have to see Legolas to know the expression on his face -- puzzlement, worry, love. It was as if, from that one brief glance, Legolas's image had been burned into his skull.
Legolas let go of his chin and took his wrist in a firm grip instead. "You need to rest," Legolas said finally after a long moment of silence. There was something unidentifiable in his voice. It sounded a bit too much like hurt for Harry's liking.
"We just got up," Harry said, trying to convey in his voice that yes, he was fine, he just had a headache. "I don't need any more sleep."
When Legolas spoke again, he sounded amused. "But Harry, we did not do much sleeping last night, did we?" He sighed. "Is there any way that I can get you to go back to our rooms and get some rest?"
"If you're there with me."
It came out before he meant it to, but after he said it, he realized that an hour or so curled up with Legolas would probably do him a lot of good. Maybe it would deflate his temper -- God, he'd yelled at Gandalf! He couldn't seem to figure out why, but in those brief few moments, he had hated that wizard like he'd never hated anyone in his life.
Legolas's voice broke through his thoughts.
"Just sleeping, right?"
Harry laughed at Legolas's guarded tone. "Yes, Legolas. I promise, just sleeping."
Of course, truth be told, he had no intention of keeping to *that* particular promise.
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Draco soon found himself with absolutely nothing to do, and he began to think that coming on this little jaunt was not his best idea.
In retrospect, it was probably one of his worst.
He stared at the ceiling from where he lay on his back, the mattress beneath him surprisingly comfortable for what seemed a relatively uncivilized place. One thing he'd discovered was that during the day the castle seemed heated up, the stone walls acting effectively as an oven. So he was not only bored now but hot.
"This was definitely not one of my best ideas," he muttered to himself and wiped a droplet of sweat from his forehead. He'd wanted to go outside, since outside there was a breeze and it wasn't so hot, but all those stares from the people of the city had drove him back to his room. He didn't know why they stared so -- Aragorn had given him a white tunic, brown leggings, and soft leather boots instead of his black shirt and jeans. He had to admit that it was decidedly cooler than what he had been wearing.
Draco sighed and shifted slightly, trying to find a cooler spot on the sheets. God, he was baking. He thought suddenly about leaving his room and going to the basement, where it would probably be a lot cooler, but the heat drove him into such a lazy state that he couldn't seem to find it in himself to move.
Maybe he should take off his shirt. Anything to get away from this oppressive heat.
But what if someone walked in?
"Oh, fuck it," he snarled finally, nearly ripping the seams off his shirt in his haste to get it off. He flung it to the side and flopped back down on the bed, feeling a little bit better, better enough at least to go to sleep and escape the heat that way.
Sleep had almost engulfed him when the door of his room swung open with a bang. Draco didn't even open his eyes. If it was a servant, they could deal with it, and if it was Harry, than it was nothing that he hadn't seen before.
"Oh -- I am sorry, I thought this was Rumil's room --"
His eyes popped open at the sound of Haldir's voice.
"Haven't you harassed me enough?" he snapped, sitting up and completely forgetting about his state of undress. Haldir's eyes flew up from where they'd been staring and made a noise in the back of his throat. It sounded very suspiciously like a tiny groan. Draco felt a small smirk threaten to show on his face and he had to look away in a pretense of picking something off the blanket so that it wouldn't show.
Haldir already had himself under that cool control again by the time Draco looked back at him.
"I apologize," the elf said icily. "I thought this room was my brother's. I will leave you in peace, since my presence so obviously irritates you."
"No, it's not that," Draco said, yawning and making a show of reaching his arms above his head and stretching. "The heat's making me irritable. But anyways, I'm bored now. Come talk to me." He patted the bed next to him.
Haldir stared at the spot Draco patted like it was a snarling Warg. "About what?" he said warily but moving towards the bed all the same. Draco gave him an encouraging smile -- he tried to make it a smile and not a smirk, but he'd been only doing one of them for so many years that he wasn't sure -- when Haldir finally sat down. The elf's back was ramrod straight and he stared straight ahead.
"Oh, I don't care," Draco said, shrugging. "Tell me about this place you're going to be moving to in a few days. Tell me about Aragorn. Just talk."
Haldir gave him a glance, but started talking anyways. "I don't know much about Valinor, since I have never been there myself. But I know the stories, and Harry told me a good deal about it as well. It is supposed to be the most beautiful place on earth, but it is impossible for anyone to reach unless they are elven, have an elven guide, or have been ordained to pass by the Valar themselves. There is only one road to get there, the Straight Road. Any man that tried to get there would circle the globe, but an elf on a ship would leave the Bent Lands and travel through the air as if on a mighty bridge invisible." He let out a sigh. "How I long for it."
Draco, who up until this point had been mesmerized by Haldir's soothing voice, found himself suddenly and inexplicably saddened. "Is there any way back from Valinor?" he said in a hushed voice, not wanting to break the strange magic that had descended upon the room.
"I do not know," Haldir said just as quietly. "But why would any elf, seeing the beauty of all the Valar and the perfection of Valinor, want to return to such an imperfect world as this?"
And Draco found himself wanting to give Haldir a reason why he should return. Haldir turned and their eyes met, and something strange tingled its way down Draco's spine. Haldir appeared just as caught as he.
"What else would you like to know?" Haldir said, breaking the spell, and Draco blinked as he was brought rudely back to the real world, where it was hot and sweat trickled down his back and there was a very stiff, very reluctant elf sitting next to him, and he still had a seduction to plan.
"Tell me about where you used to live."
Haldir sighed. "I was a guard in Lothlorien. It was a place more beautiful than the stars, and inhabited by a lady who was more radiant than the sun. It --"
As Haldir continued, Draco watched as he because caught up in his memories, eyes staring at the wall and a small smile lurking about his lips. Finally, Draco could take it no longer. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the hollow of Haldir's throat.
"And Galadriel and Celeb -- what are you doing?" He sounded faintly startled but not repulsed. Draco smiled against Haldir's skin.
"I am sucking on your neck," he said simply and proceeded to do just that. Haldir made an inarticulate noise of shock from above him and put his hands on Draco's shoulders, pushing him back. A pair of astonished green eyes stared down at him.
"Why in the Valar did you --" He had to cut off suddenly because Draco, on an impulse, leaned forward and took Haldir's lower lip between his teeth, worrying it gently. Haldir made another one of those noises and Draco just had to kiss him.
"Stop it," Haldir said after he finally broke away, sounding not at all breathless like Draco suspected he himself would sound the minute he tried to talk. "Why are you doing this?" Draco heard the tiniest bit of strain in his voice and arched an eyebrow.
"Why not?" he asked smoothly and leaned in for another kiss. Haldir turned his head at the last minute and Draco kissed the smooth slope of his neck like that had been his intention the whole time.
"I am serious, Draco. Stop this. Stop -- oh -- "
Draco had bitten down lightly on the curve where Haldir's neck met his shoulder. He leaned up and succeeded finally in capturing Haldir's lips for another kiss. Slowly, he pushed his hand against Haldir's shoulder, making the elf sink down on his back on the bed. Draco felt the tiniest bit of response in the kiss and fought the urge to grin. He was finally getting somewhere.
There was the sound of footsteps at the door and a muted gasp.
"God damn it, is everyone going to barge in on me today?" he growled under his breath, breaking the kiss and turning to see who was in the door. Haldir gave a jerk from beneath him and the elf sat ups so fast that Draco nearly fell off the bed.
"Rumil, this is not what it looks like, I swear it."
Rumil's keen eyes took in Draco's state of undress and Haldir's flushed face and swollen bottom lip. "If you say so, brother," the elf said, gaze drifting to the bruise that was appearing on Haldir's neck. A tiny smile appeared on his face. "I was only wondering where you had gone off to. No need to leave yet, of course. I shall just go back to my room."
"No," Haldir said. His voice was very nearly under control again. "No, I shall come with you. I meant to talk to you, anyways. I just came into the wrong room."
"I see," Rumil said, laughter in his voice. Draco wondered where the hell Haldir had gotten his prudishness, since his brother seemed to be fine with it. But he didn't want to seduce Haldir's brother, either.
Haldir left, casting one last icy glare over his shoulder. Draco returned it with a smoldering look of his own and winked. Haldir slammed the door with a bit more force than was necessary.
"Damn elves," he said to himself, but even as he did, he grinned and started planning his next meeting with the elf, and how exactly he could worm his way under that cold exterior. It would be interesting. And it seemed as if he had finally found a way to occupy his time.
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"I finally got rid of them, Legolas."
Harry came towards him with blood streaming down his face in rivers.
"I finally got rid of them, Legolas."
There was a relieved smile on Harry's face even as the blood poured down from his empty eye sockets and flowed into his mouth, staining his teeth a dark red.
"I finally got rid of them, Legolas."
He held out his hand for Legolas to see, and in his hands he held his two bloody eyes. The blood was making a pool around Harry's feet, but the horrible grin never slipped off his face. Harry turned away and spat out the blood that had been pooling in his mouth. It formed a puddle on the floor, and even as Legolas watched in horror, the blood shaped itself into a human form with Draco's face. Harry laughed.
"I finally got rid of them, Legolas."
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A/N: Review review! Be a do-gooder! Because I love your reviews. :)