. . .
"There's only one person who needs a glass of water oftener than a small child tucked in for the night, and that's a writer sitting down to write." -Mignon McLaughlin
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There was half a food court between Kris and Legolas.
Legolas shoved a chair aside, letting it skid across the floor. Kristy was under this 'Rogers' arm, wrapped around his waist and shaking hands with the tableful of marines. He was going to get her away from them.
At the sound of his boot steps striding over, Kris looked up. "Hey, I-"
"Kristine," he interrupted, quiet and cool. His eyes were icy blue, like water freezing over.
Roger started in surprise at the newcomer, an arm still around her shoulders. Then he looked him up and down. Legolas lifted his chin in response. The man wasn't any taller, but he was a solid mass of bulk muscle. And he had a gun concealed in his pants. Legolas was fully aware of it. He wished he had his knives.
Legolas smiled tersely. "Nothing is the matter." He replied, turning to the Marine, "Kristine simply regrets that she must leave your company so soon."
"Leave?" Rog glanced from Kristy's wide, shocked eyes to Legolas' blue ones, before half-laughing. "I don't see her leaving."
"Yeah, I don't see me leaving." She raised both eyebrows at him.
Legolas shot her a 'don't-mess-with-me-now' look, before angling his body to the Marine. "Kristine is with me." He said very calmly, "And she'd like to return to our table. Now."
Kris hissed a breath through her teeth, but didn't protest.
Roger did.
"Back off, pal." He glanced between the man and Kristy under his arm. She suddenly had an arm around his waist…a very comfortable arm. It made Legolas' nose flare and his eyes flashed.
"Kristine." He hissed, before saying in Westron, "What are you doing? These are soldiers."
"Don't you think I know that?" She snapped back in English, "What business is it of yours?"
"It's my business plenty!" he spluttered, inwardly cursing himself for answering so stupidly.
The air instantly charged with tension, like a thunderhead. And she mimicked Roger with an irritated glare. "Back off, pal. Rog is quite capable of defending himself."
He grinned at the compliment, before enveloping her in a side hug. "You're always so cute mad, Krissy."
She glanced down and smirked, letting him hug her.
Legolas almost gagged. Who was he to come in and do this?
"Is this guy bothering you?" came a voice from behind Legolas, interrupting his furious train of thought. He turned, eyes cold, to find a heavy set, muscular body behind him. This one was a little shorter, but no less brawny.
Kristy glanced between them, chewing the inside of her mouth. "No," she relented. "Just being an arse…as usual."
Roger glanced around his friends, who were getting slowly up out of their seats. Out of the corner of his eye, Legolas caught Estel tensing, half-rising from his chair across the cafeteria. Tauriel was looking between them, confused and wary.
"Actually, we were just skipping, Kris," Roger said, keeping eye contact with Legolas the whole time. "We're on leave until tomorrow, ten o'clock. Wanna come along?"
"I…" She wouldn't meet Legolas' eyes, but she sighed a little. "I'm sorry, Rog. I'd like to. But Le-…um, Luke is right. I should be getting back."
And Roger stiffened. "Luke?"
Kristy nodded.
Staring across the food court, Estel caught the shift in their stances. They edged away, fingered their knuckles into fists. "Luke…huh?" Rog glanced him up and down, as if looking for something.
"Luke Smith."
Careful, Legolas. Aragorn stared at his friend, willing him to loosen his stance, unclench his fists.
"So… this guy's your boyfriend?" Roger pressed, still unwilling to let her out of his hold.
"What? No!" she protested. "I-I mean…no, he's not. Just a friend."
"Good." Roger smiled, "…then you can come check out the local clubs with us, right?"
"I said," Legolas snapped. "She is not leaving with you. Haven't I made that clear?"
"Oh sure, but she hasn't."
"She does as I say!"
Aragorn almost put his head in his hands. Legolas was biting. He was fearful and angry, yes…but oh so foolish. This couldn't end good.
"Oh?" Kristy gasped. "Oh really? Actually I said I was leaving, Mr. Smith. But I think I've changed my mind!"
"You can't do that," Legolas insisted in Westron. He grimaced, "Lookat them, Kristine. They are soldiers. Why are they here? What are the chances of you meeting? Stay away from them, I tell you."
"What is he talking about?" One muttered.
"Portuguese," Kris explained, trying to keep her breathing down. "And he's talking nonsense. Honestly, I have no idea." She shifted back into Roger's chest, trying to avoid looking at Legolas' wide, fuming reaction. It wasn't working. Blood rushed to her face and she flushed.
Roger shared a look with another of the marines, before shifting back and taking her with him. "Come on. Let's go."
"Kristine." Legolas countered, "Come with me. Please."
She looked between them, unsteady at first…unsure. But one more look at Legolas' fierce, insistent expression, her eyes flashed. She stared at him defiantly.
"Kristy-"
Instantly, she accepted the hand Roger offered and let him pull her away.
"See you."
"Kristine!" Legolas protested. And something sick hit his belly, a terrible feeling…warning, danger as they walked away. "Kristy, please." He pleaded in Westron, willing her to listen to him just this once.
And she stopped, glanced back. Legolas widened his eyes, staring at her, the fluffy hood enveloping her tangles of hair, clinging jeans tucked into wedge-heeled boots. She couldn't leave. She wouldn't.
And then, to his relief and wounded pride, she broke away from Roger and walked back to him. The Marine blinked in surprise. Legolas shot him a smug look, before he lifted a hand in invitation, imagining her accepting it, leaving those men, letting him pull her back.
"Legolas?" she said as she strode toward him.
And then, he saw her eyes still flashed. Her belligerent walk was a strut. Legolas realized it with a pit of horror in chest. Kris stopped just inches from his face, yanked something out of her pocket, and slapped it into his offered hand.
Legolas looked down in surprise.
"Money for a cab. Take care of Estel and precious Tauriel," she whispered. Kristy was about to turn away, and then…she paused and dropped her voice even more. "Oh, and in case you hadn't figured it out yet… you can't tell me what to do."
With that, Kris spun on her heel, tossed her head and strode away.
Legolas was left gaping.
"Yay, Kris!" Roger hooted and slapped hands with another Marine. "Way to go!"
Kristy welcomed his praise with a grin, and ducked under his offered arm. She walked in step with him, enveloped in camouflage green, short-shaved hair, recreation combat-boots, and comradeship.
Half the food court was watching.
Estel glanced around. Legolas was still staring in stunned shock. Aragorn got out of his chair and carefully edged over. Beside him, Legolas gaping, there was something disturbing, and more than a little amusing at the expression.
"So…" Aragorn murmured dryly, watching Legolas clamp his mouth shut in a thin, tight line. "…that was nicely handled."
He shot him a look of death. "Save it, Ranger."
Aragorn laughed even as a thread of worry snaked through his chest. But whether it was at Legolas' inane threat or Kristy's disappearing form, he wasn't sure.
. . . . . .
Tick…tock…tick…
Waiting. Endless waiting. Fury.
Tock…tick…tock…
They didn't need the clock this time. Legolas counted the seconds, the minutes, the hours. Why wasn't she here? Why didn't she come back?
Tick…tock…tick
Kristy wasn't home yet. She wasn't anywhere! It was three o'clock in the morning! Legolas used the home phone to call her cell at midnight, and it buzzed uselessly in the corner of her rumpled bed. She forgot it: typical Kristy. He couldn't contact her. He couldn't find her.
And then, Aragorn spoke up from the couch. "She will not return any faster with you wearing a track in the carpet."
Legolas ignored him.
She had no right to do this. It was maddening. Infuriating!
She was…she was family. She'd said it herself. That meant he had certain claims on her. That meant he was duty bound to protect her…even if it weren't those men she'd run off with. And Marines, it had to be Marines. Why weren't they casual friends, those small, pudgy ones he'd seen go into the shop she worked in?
Besides, hadn't they looked at him oddly? Hadn't they reacted minutely surprised at his very name, Luke Smith? Aragorn noticed it too. He said so. There was danger here. It was screaming in his gut, warning him to keep her away from them.
Legolas couldn't stand it anymore.
"Why do you think they wanted her?" he demanded, spinning on his heel. He stared at the glow of Estel in the faint moonlight. A dim lamp glowed in the kitchen. Everything else was dark, putridly and peacefully dark. It vacillated with his mood swings. "Do you think they'll hurt her?"
Estel leaned on the armrest, legs folded under him in the plush leather. He nursed a packet of pipeweed. The embers glowed, lighting the ranger's face, and he lifted keen gray eyes.
"Worrying helps nothing," he said simply.
"You said they reacted strangely," Legolas insisted. His back was ram-rod straight.
"Strangely," He agreed, "Yes."
"Dangerously?" Legolas pressed, and it only earned him a hard-earned sigh. Legolas turned away, frustrated and baffled. "Well, why did they want her? Why did they ask her out in the first place?"
And for the first time, Aragorn smiled a little. "Do not be obtuse, my friend! Why do you think?"
Legolas didn't answer.
So, the ranger did for him. "Kristine is a lively, interesting girl." He glanced at Legolas' expression, gauging it. The elf was staring blankly at the open bay window, thinking about it. "And her face is not what one would say… ugly, is it?"
Legolas almost snorted. But that was another rude habit he picked up here, and he refrained.
Estel removed the pipe from his teeth and felt a tiny laugh run down his spine, watching his friend. It was late, true, and that disturbed him. But watching his calm, cool friend stress was something else entirely. In fact, it was hilarious.
"And her shape is not what most men would consider…uncomely, is it?" Aragorn asked, suppressing a smile.
Legolas shot him a dark look, checked that Tauriel was safely in the bedroom with the door shut, out of earshot, and he shook his head. "No."
Legolas remembered very well what she looked like. And not only that, but the clothes she wore. Yes, that could be it. Aragorn could be right. They were simple usually, jeans, a dark top, sometimes a purse slung across her breasts. But they were always so perfectly tight. Scandalous, he thought when first coming here. But now…
"No," he muttered again, reluctantly. "She's not unattractive."
"And do you have your answer?" Estel pressed.
Legolas didn't say anything.
"Well?"
Legolas spun around, distressed. "But Estel, something was wrong. I know there was. Tell me again. You felt it too!"
Aragorn sighed, emptying the ashes from his pipe in a dish. He wanted to deny his friend, tell him it was the elf's overactive imagination. But that would be a lie. Something did feel off with him. "I cannot deny that I felt…uncomfortable with them. But-"
"But nothing." Legolas nodded in satisfaction. "So it is settled. She will not see them, or that Roger again."
Aragorn laughed outright. "You are mad!" At his blank, stupefied expression, Estel explained. "Did you learn nothing from that embarrassing, useless exchange today? The harder you push her, demand, the more she'll fight. Don't you see? She'll see them all the more, no matter how hard you try."
"But…" Legolas looked away, trying to keep his breathing down. "But how will I stop her?"
"Certainly not that way." Aragorn relit his pipe, puffing.
Legolas shifted on his feet. "Yes… she is stubborn."
"Stubborn? Yes," Estel agreed, and he wondered if he should mention the other word that came to mind. But he refrained. Whatever there was between him and Kristine, it should stay that way. He shouldn't interfere.
Probably.
And then, standing uncomfortably in silence, Legolas snapped his chin up. Before Estel could ask, the elf bolted out onto the balcony, looking down. "They are back!" he hissed. And he dove for the door.
"Legolas-"
Legolas slammed the door shut behind him and stalked over to the stairs. Then, he pressed himself to the wall, panting, waiting. He'd wait for them to come up, listen to what they had to say…and then thrash Roger within an inch of his life. Yes, the thought was satisfying.
Three o'clock in the morning! The man had no right!
A few agonizingly tense minutes went by, Legolas standing on the stairwell that twisted round and round for twenty-five flights. Legolas stood behind these, waiting for the elevator to arrive. The dial lit up, showing the lift arriving. Voices.
Legolas' breath hitched. It was Kristy.
"- and I do not think stairs have a place in modern society," she was saying as the lift doors opened. "M-much too tiring."
"Course not." Roger was agreeing.
Legolas scowled, about to step out. But he hesitated, wanting to listen.
"And elevators must work at all times, and be s-swifty, too," she continued.
My God, she's drunk.
Legolas leaned over slightly, glancing around the wall. Roger was alone with her, supporting her as she walked unsteadily down the carpeted hall, dragging her coat on the floor. And suddenly, she staggered on a heel and nearly fell over, if not for Roger catching her. He broke out in hoarse laughter.
"Ah, Krissy…better be careful. The floor has it out for you tonight! This is the third time."
Kristy righted herself, swaying a little, and then pointed at the carpet. "Bad floor."
Roger laughed again, and Legolas glowered.
"Ssh!" she hissed, "He'll hear you."
"Who's 'he'?" Roger asked. Legolas couldn't' be sure, but it seemed Roger slowed a little, as they neared the apartment door.
"Dude you met today…that 'he'. He's scary when he's mad, you know."
Roger nodded conspiringly. "You wouldn't want to tell me more about this…friend, would you?"
Kristy apparently thought about it. "Nah. He's boring." She looked up woefully. "And mean."
Legolas frowned.
"Mean?" Roger feigned horror, coming to a stop outside her door, and he steadied the woman against the wall. Legolas watched them around the haze of a wall too close to his eyes. The man grinned and exaggerated his movements, swaying uneasily but…but he wasn't intoxicated.
Legolas could tell it, scrutinizing his every move. The Marine's eyes were focused, not like Kristy's. He put his hands on the wall beside her, effectively pinning her there, and it wasn't the move of a sloppy, drunken man.
"Why are you friends with a mean man?" he whispered close to her face.
Kristy glanced down, lifting an unsteady hand to finger his chest. The hall lights were dim, set for night time, and he caught a blush biting at her cheeks. But she was uncomfortable. Legolas could tell that. Kristy was only perfectly still when she was afraid to move.
"B-because I -" She bit down on the inside of her mouth. It drew her lower lip in, and it was a sign she was upset. "I don't know."
"Is he…from around here?" Rog asked quietly, fingering Kris' bare shoulder with a dark, calloused finger.
Legolas wanted to slap it off. And he wanted to do it now. But he didn't. Why did the man ask this? Why wasn't he making a move toward Kristy, so Legolas could stalk down the hall and rescue her from him?
And a thought struck him. Maybe she didn't want to be rescued.
"He's um…" Kristy tried to think. She tried hard, but she ended up mumbling. "I don't know. I think he's from o-overseas, maybe."
"But sometimes it feels a lot farther than that, doesn't it?" Rog murmured sympathetically.
Kris nodded.
The marine edged closer, very quietly, and he pushed his hips forward. The man had her against the wall, and as he touched her, traced her collarbone with his fingers…tilted her chin back.
Sweet Eru…he's going to kiss her!
Legolas chose to make his entrance. He carefully slipped across the hall so it looked like he was coming up instead of down the stairs. Then, he made a show of stomping heavily up the last carpeted step, so they heard him coming. Then, when he was striding down the hall, Kristy looked up with utter shock.
"Le-…Luke!"
"Kristine," he murmured cordially in response. Legolas noticed there were several inches between the two of them now. Good. For Roger, he offered a narrowed-eyed stare. "Having fun, are we?"
Roger raised an eyebrow, shifting in his boots, but removed his hand from the wall so Kris could breathe. "Until a moment ago…"
"Well fun is over."
"Luke!" Kris gasped, eyes blazing.
"Be quiet, Kristine," he said, and she obediently snapped her mouth shut. "Get out of here," he said to Roger, moving so close he stood between him and Kristy.
"I believe we wanted some privacy, friend." He glanced Legolas up and down. But there was fear in his eyes, very deep down…or wariness. Legolas couldn't tell without a fea to go by, but it didn't matter. Legolas used it.
"If you want even one bone in your body unbroken by tomorrow morning…I suggest you leave now."
"Legolas!" she protested, and it was ignored.
Roger focused somewhere under Legolas' eyes, broad shoulders shrugged into a short, camouflage coat, and he asked quietly. "Is that a threat?"
The elf tilted his head. "If that is how you see it."
And suddenly, Kristy smacked Legolas' back, trying to shove him aside. "Leave him alone!" But with a sweep of his arm, he held her back and pushed her gently to the wall, pinning her there. In her inebriated state, she couldn't even complain.
"It is time Kristine went to bed." He said firmly, "Alone."
Roger stepped closer, pressing his lips together. It surprised Legolas. He thought he'd back down. "Just what do you want, anyway?" Roger demanded, but he edged back again at the fierce gleam in Legolas' eyes. "It's three o'clock in the morning. What the hell are you doing here?"
"He lives here!" Kristy spoke up, very unhelpfully.
Roger's eyes widened.
"In the building…with a friend." Legolas corrected quickly, "And I have this strange desire to keep scum like you from injuring, wounding, or otherwise taking advantage of intoxicated neighbors of mine." He pointed at him. "So leave."
Roger jolted back, one boot behind the other. "I…I'll see you, Kris." He waved briefly. "Get some sleep. Your crazy boyfriend's right about that, at least."
And with that, he was marching away down the hall toward the elevator. Legolas waited until the lift doors closed, rigid and strung tight as a bowstring…before sighing in relief.
At least that was over.
He'd fought so hard not to grab the marine's coat and shake him. Plow his fist through his face. But that wouldn't help anything. He realized that now. It would just draw even more attention to himself, or start a fight. Estel wouldn't be pleased, and in the end, neither would he.
A voice whispered venomously, "You…"
Legolas froze.
"You egotistical, narcissistic, self-important, bossy bastard!" she spat.
Legolas whirled around, taking a sharp breath through his teeth.
"How dare you!" she spluttered.
"I just saved you," he protested.
"Saved me? From who, Roger? I wanna be s-saved from you, you creep!"
And suddenly, Kristy didn't look so drunk anymore. Anger lit the fuse and it was burning the alcohol away. She stormed forward, aiming to hit him…hard, but Legolas stepped back and she face-planted.
Legolas blinked. She pushed up, rubbing her hurting elbows, and her nose was bleeding. "Argh…" she held her face, whimpering at the blood seeping into her hand.
"Good God, Kristy." Legolas grimaced and got down on his knees. "Why do you do this to yourself?"
"M-me?" she choked. "You did it, y-you fucking bastard. Y-you -"
"Stop calling me that, dirty mouthed little girl." Legolas hauled her to her feet, and she immediately tipped backward. He barely managed to catch her. In the dim haul light, his back up against a wall, Legolas pulled her closer.
"Come here, Kristy."
"L-let me go…" she mumbled, using his body to support herself, his hands grabbing her waist. And Kristy pushed on his chest, keeping her upper body from his. "Let me go!"
"If I do," he warned. "you'll fall again."
"I don't care!"
Legolas sighed, staring down at her, before letting go.
And she promptly fell on her ass.
"See?"
Kristy lifted her head sourly, glowering at him. "You pushed me."
. . . . . .
Legolas looked out over the city an hour later, slowly rubbing his thumbs together.
"I failed," Legolas murmured, staring at his hands. "I thought I could…stop her, convince her."
At his side, Aragorn stood like a shadow in the night.
"I was wrong." He said even softer, "I thought she cared for what I thought, that she listened to me. I thought we were passed this."
A little while went by. Estel leaned on the balcony rail, sheltered under the eaves. The city noises were far away, distant and subdued. The curfew ended at five o'clock, and it was not yet four-thirty. It made the city so much quieter than usual, almost peaceful…
Looking out at the windy rooftops, breathing in the cold air, he replied. "She's not thinking clearly, Legolas."
"Well her response was very clear." He glanced over. "'Stay out of my personal life, bastard', I believe she said."
"I doubt she meant it."
Legolas scoffed, turning back to the cityscape a little more darkly.
"She was intoxicated, you know."
Legolas nodded a little. "Another thing!" he half-laughed, pointing through the sliding balcony doors to where he knew Kristy was sound asleep. "I have seen that woman inebriated but once in my stay here. She doesn't drink. Yet one night with that man, and she can barely stand up."
Aragorn nodded a little.
"So what can I do about it?" Legolas began to pace again, up and down the small terrace. "She won't listen to what I say."
"True."
"She wants to, for some reason unfathomable to me, keep company with those men."
"True."
Legolas paused, glancing back. He'd told Estel of what the Marine had asked her, inquired about him…what she answered him with. It disturbed the Ranger as much as him, and it was no question now that she should steer clear.
"So…perhaps you should talk to her?" Legolas edged.
Estel laughed. "She'd listen to me even less than you, my friend." He shook his head, creasing his brows. "No, this must be dealt with carefully."
"By whom?"
"By you."
Legolas scowled and turned away. "I do not know how."
A few minutes passed, in which they felt the temperature drop a little. Legolas shrugged on a coat, before sliding down in the white wicker bench outside. He could still see the tops of the buildings as they glowed in the night. But it was a cold beauty. They blocked out the stars, transformed them into glowing dust straining for air to breathe.
"I must stop her," Legolas said quietly, resolutely. "I will."
Estel turned, resting a shoulder on the post. "She does care for you, you know."
"She does us all. Even Tauriel." He muttered back.
Aragorn shifted, frowning. "That is not what I mean, and you know it."
Nothing.
"Legolas…"
Still nothing. The elf's jaw just tightened a little.
And suddenly, the Ranger couldn't stand this anymore. He took a deep, cold breath and turned his head, looking sharply at his friend. "Legolas, are you blind? She caresfor you, I tell you."
Legolas snapped his chin up and warned. "Estel-"
"Do not bother denying it!" He held up a hand, cutting his friend off. "You know it. I know it." He dropped his voice. "The reason she is philandering with these…Marines, is because she desires you. And she cannot have you. She knows that."
And there. He'd said it.
Estel glanced down. It was difficult, and perhaps not the best solution, but it had to be said.
Legolas was staring at him, gaping in utter shock. His mouth was open slightly, eyes wide. "Aragorn, I…" he stopped, unable to force the words out. "No."
"You are deluding yourself, Legolas," Estel said quieter, staring at the distant shape of an army truck passing on the street, twenty-five flights down. "You know it is true."
Legolas stared into nowhere. Was he right? Was he truly right?
Legolas scavenged through every memory he had, every touch, every look. The fights, the tension, yes…the anger, the nights they talked and touched and how much it comforted him. And then, it all shifted together.
Estel held his arms, staring at the elf from the edge of his eyes. "And quite possibly not just your heart, my friend."
Legolas blinked.
And then he leaned back, still silent…but mulling. He didn't know why, but an almost inexorable smile tugged at his mouth. The insufferable little girl...woman, he corrected. After all this time, three months of living with him, she goes and does this?
Somehow, it was a disturbing thought that Kristine could…desire. Legolas thought about it. She seemed so unaware. Was he right? Did she want him? The woman didn't even look at him more than in passing, studied no more of him than his face…and his hair. Legolas noticed and he thought it was the way she was, or he was simply uninteresting.
"I don't want to do it," Legolas mumbled finally, his train of thoughts shifting. Whether or not Aragorn was stating a simple fact, or not…he knew what he was going to do. "I don't want to do it to her."
Estel didn't reply.
"She will hate me for this," he said anyway, not a guess, but a fact. She would. When she discovered his plan, as she surely would eventually, she would hate him bitterly.
Still, Aragorn didn't answer.
"But as long as she walks this path, we are all in danger," Legolas said. "She has to be…distracted from them. We cannot let them pry into our matters, or discover we are here. It is for the best."
Legolas looked up. "Isn't it?"
Still, Estel didn't answer. He just closed his eyes, resting his head wearily in one hand.
The elf looked down, setting his jaw hard. This was going to happen.
. . . . . . .