Chapter 3: The Game's Afoot
Janessa woke up slowly. She felt safe and warm in her bed. She… wasn't alone.
The redhead's eyes flew open to gaze down at a lean, male chest only partly covered by a loose shirt. Whoever it was had her wrapped in their gentle embrace, her head tucked beneath his chin. Suddenly, everything that had transpired recently came rushing back to her. It took supreme effort for her not to shove the man next to her away as pain flashed through her head. After the initial spike the pounding settled down to a dull ache in the back of her head.
Jan slowly reached up to press the pads of her fingers across the back of her skull, quickly finding a large knot. Son of a bitch. Someone musta blind-sided me. But back to the present. She had to find some way of extricating herself from the present position without waking him up.
Jan shifted her weight off his chest to her left side, on the bed. She froze, making sure he was still asleep. She then reached back with her free right arm and carefully peeled his arm from her waist, laying it across his stomach. Next she bent her had forward, out from under his chin and lifted it off his chest. She slowly shifted up onto her left elbow, turning her head to again assess his state of wakefulness.
Jan stopped dead as she looked down, directly into his wide-open eyes. Oh SHIT! She thought before checking herself. She brought her right hand up, waving it before his eyes before releasing a silent sigh. So elves DO sleep with their eyes open. Interesting. Don't have time to investigate this now. Need to stay focused.
Relieved, the woman began to carefully inch her way out of what she now realized were Legolas' arms. I don't even WANT to know how I ended up like that. If he wasn't so damn striking I'd consider this a "double coyote ugly" situation.
Jan repressed a chuckle as she finally got away from him, twisting to sit on the edge of the bed. Here I am, living every Legolas-fancier's dream and I'm doing my damnedest to get away from him. Can we say irony much?
Looking around, the woman quickly spotted where her coats hand been laid and her boots placed. Only then did she finally register the reality that someone had to have removed those articles while she was unconscious. Which brought her back to the large lump she was currently sporting on the back of her head.
Performing a rudimentary tactical analysis in her head she concluded that the elf currently in repose on the bed had to have been the one who clocked her. Chivalry is truly dead, she mused.
Just like the Air Force had trained her, Janessa swiftly assessed her avenues of escape, trying to find a human-sized "hole" in Imladris' security. With Glorfindel as Captain of Elrond's forces she knew there would be few, if any, breaches in the defense network.
That was when a possible tactical error struck her. Stop thinking modern-day with levels within levels of redundant security. Think Medieval. Every elf, on some level, is capable of fighting, thus the likelihood that Glorfindel has a specific set of guards patrolling the house and grounds of the Last Homely House is slim to none. Add to that the fact that the One Ring has been destroyed and you get complacency at home. She'd found the hole.
Not that Janessa entertained any delusions that she was any kind of a match for an elf should she encounter one. The woman knew full well that the only reason she had managed to floor Glorfindel, of all ellon and twice no less, was she had the advantage of surprise as well as employing techniques wholly unfamiliar to any elves. In short, she'd been damn lucky. She only prayed that her luck would hold out long enough for her to make good her escape.
Still mulling over her options the woman stood slowly from the bed. First she donned her socks and then her coats. As she dressed she spotted her weapons laid at the foot of the bed. Needing to maintain silence, she rummaged around in her pockets until she came up with a bandanna. Moving at a painstakingly snail's pace she wrapped the fletched ends of her arrows, securing the fabric to the side of the quiver so the darts wouldn't clatter together when she moved.
She shouldered her bow and was about to pick up her boots when she spotted something poking out from under the bed. Bending down, she pulled it out to discover a tightly coiled length of hithlain.
It was all the woman could do to contain her excitement. Here lay the answer to her escape. She glanced toward the balcony, a smirk crossing her lips. Now she would no longer have to brave the obstacles she knew she would face evading detection through the halls of the Last Homely House. Frankly, she was not THAT good at tactical concealment in an urban setting.
The redhead strode toward the balcony doors. Outside the raging storm had somewhat lessened in its anger, the tempest nowhere near as bad as it had been. Still, the racket from without would increase exponentially as soon as she opened those doors, surely waking the still-sleeping elf on the bed.
How do I get out and get the rope tied off fast enough that he won't be on me? She had to stop herself from snapping her fingers as the light bulb went on in her head. That's it! Jan quickly laid her boots aside, fashioning one end of the hithlain into a close facsimile of a hangman's noose. She laid the rope next to her boots and stepped into the footwear.
Knowing full well there was no way of disguising the sound of her boots zipping up she took a tab in each hand and yanked them both up. Not waiting to see if Legolas had awoken she let her pant legs drop down, caught the hithlain in one hand and hit the latch on one of the doors at the same time. She strode out into the rain, throwing the noose over the balustrade and bringing the loop around to feed the coiled length through, dropping it over the side.
Just as she was climbing onto the slick railing she heard a cry of, "TAMPA!" from behind her. The rope in her right hand, she glanced over her shoulder to see a shocked Legolas stalking toward her. Not sparing a second look she jumped. Headfirst she went over the balustrade, her legs and feet wrapping around the cord to control her descent. She slid Aussie-style down the line, head to the ground.
As she dropped she looked up past her feet to the blatantly shocked look on the elf's face, revealed by the flashing lightning. She knew then that pursuit would not begin until she hit the ground. She looked back down and suddenly halted her movement, releasing her feet to flip to the grass.
Legolas awoke to the alien "vvvppp!" of Janessa zipping her boots up. He turned his gaze toward the sound to be greeted by the sight of the woman stepping through the balcony door, silhouetted against the stormy backdrop. She was running. Again. There was no other reason for her to be going out into such nasty pre-dawn weather, especially with her weapons strapped to her back.
No. I will not let you disappear again, leaving only questions in your wake. Not this time. Purposefully, the elf strode toward her as she clamored onto the railing. For the briefest moment he thought she might be attempting suicide. Then he caught sight of the tied-off rope. Not suicide, but definitely flight. Bent on stopping her he kept coming, sliding across the rain-slicked marble paving the balcony as she again shocked him by leaping headfirst over the edge rather than swinging out onto the hithlain.
Catching himself on the railing he looked down to find her looking back up at him as she went head over feet down the rope. Sweet Eru! She's going to crash into the ground! Unable to look away, like someone driving past a bad car wreck, the elf stood transfixed, watching her descent in the flickering lightning.
He almost couldn't believe it when she suddenly halted her drop, flipping down to her feet and sprinting for the woods. The Prince shook himself and turned away, taking his soaked form back inside to rouse the house. Janessa was loose somewhere in the storm shrouded forest.
As soon as her feet were down she sprinted for the tree line, knowing her only hope lay in effective concealment. The pouring rain quickly drenched her hair, her leather attire, for the most part, keeping her dry. As soon as she was far enough into the forest she'd have to somehow mask her hair. From Combat Survival Training she already knew the damned color would shine like a beacon day or night.
Once she felt she was far enough away from Elrond's home Janessa stopped. Figuring she wouldn't be taking any more head-first plunges in the near future she unshouldered her bow and swung her quiver around to remove the black bandanna from her arrows. That accomplished she took her dripping hair and wrung it out as best she could. She then twisted it up into a tight knot and covered it with the cloth.
Shouldering her bow again, she cast her gaze about on the ground. Finding what she needed, she knelt over the thick mud puddle, dipping her fingers in and bringing them to her face, smearing the smooth brown paste over her pale skin. Satisfied with her makeshift camouflage job Janessa set about doing what she had done best in Woodland Evasion: hiding.
Glorfindel awoke with a start, sitting straight up on bed. It wasn't yet daybreak but something had roused him from his deep, dreamless sleep. Something was wrong. He could feel it. His instincts having never failed him, the seneschal knew he should listen.
He threw off the covers, exposing his nude form to the chill air following in the wake of the dying fire in the bedroom hearth. As he moved to stand, the soreness in his nether regions made itself known. The annoying discomfort brought home to him the reality of what he had done that night. Consciously disregarding the pain, the seneschal dressed quickly. He kicked his still-muddy clothes from the previous evening aside as he made his way out of his chambers.
No sooner had he exited into the hallway than he was accosted by a frantic Legolas, the Prince practically babbling about Janessa, some hithlain and the forest.
As far as he could tell he was not the first person the Prince had roused, but he was the first one out. The Elda sent the Sinda on his way and turned back to his entryway, retrieving a long leather cloak before heading out into the stormy, gathering dawn.
He would find her. He wasn't sure how, but he would.