Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings belong to J.R.R Tolkien, the only people I own are Alenor Talagand, Bréil, Sebastian and Victoria.
REVISED and EDITED Fate's Paths-Chap15-Fragile Minds-
Sebastian watched his lady from his discreet corner in the large bedroom He longed to show himself so he could stop her, but if he did he would be discovered and sent away. No, better to wait here and protect her from a shadowed distance. His eyes followed her restlessly as she continued to pace from the walk-in closet to the saddlebag on the outsized bed. Already strewn around the bag were castoff garments and healers' medications. Every once in awhile her head would come up, eyes searching the room, as if knowing that someone was watching her. Whenever she did that, Sebastian shrunk back farther into his corner.
After an hour of her preparation the Queen glanced up one final time and slung the saddlebag over her shoulder, grunting as it came down heavy. The seams were stretching. Taking a quick last glance around to make sure she had forgotten nothing, she hurried to the heavy ornate door, but paused there with her hand resting on the handle. "I suppose your horse is saddled and your bag packed already, Sebastian?"
Feeling his face heat with embarrassment at being caught, he stepped out of his corner. Not sure what do with this hands, he uneasily clasped them behind his back. "Yes my lady," he muttered, his eyes following the inlaid gold pattern on the carpeted floor.
"Come Sebastian, you've been watching over me like a hawk since I came into office, I knew I would have a hard time losing you tonight. It appears I failed."
"Yes, it appears you did," Sebastian murmured, his eyes finally returning to rest on his Queen's. "Did you plan on brining anything to eat or were you planning on starving?"
The queen shot him one of her dangerous looks. It was the kind of look that would send anyone crawling under the rocks unless they knew her well enough to realize that she wasn't actually mad. "No," she admitted scathingly.
"I see," Sebastian nodded, walking past the woman who was a head shorter then him. "Well I guess you'll just need me to come along."
"I am the Queen! I may take what I want, when I want!"
"Not when the kitchens are locked and only I know where the key is located." Sebastian moved into the hall, holding the door back so his lady could walk by him. "So, I am suggesting that I am a very helpful asset in your plan to disappear."
Shooting him another one of her dangerous looks she regally swept by him. "You might as well come along," she grumbled reluctantly. "And for Eru's sake Sebastian, call me Victoria, you should know that by now."
"Your rank is above mine," Sebastian pointed out, falling three steps behind her, as was protocol. "It is only befitting I call you 'my lady'."
"And yet you seek to badger and corner me every other waking minute of my life?" Victoria demanded under her breath, as she headed down the halls, somehow managing to look regal in her boy's attire.
"I beg to differ," Sebastian snorted. "You would have been caught in hundreds of hopeless fooleries, on your little escapades had it not been for me to save you."
"True enough," she conceded, slowing down. "And I suppose I have threatened you so many times that by now it flies over your head?"
"Yes my lady, it merely whispers like the gentle wind."
Victoria snorted in an unladylike way as she paused by a tapestry that depicted the downfall of their beloved Numenor. Checking quickly to make sure they were alone, she reached behind and pressed a small knot in the stone and beckoning to Sebastian slipped into the secret passage.
XxXxXx
Riders, Bréil, leaned back; his eyes closed feeling the drumming sound of the hooves in his mind. He was not surprised or startled by the sound; he would recognize the gait anywhere. Numorean horses. Shifting he opened his eyes, and reaching over, took Alenor's hand gently. The girl moaned a bit, her head tossing in his direction, as she shivered with false cold, her fever was starting to soar again, and nothing he was doing was helping it. You should have pushed onward when you had the chance! You've been a sitting duck for the past two days!
Scooting closer to his young charge, he pulled out the dripping cloth from the small pot that he set next to her. Whispering soothing words, he wrung it out, placing it on her forehead. Seeing her eyes flicker restlessly behind her closed lids, Bréil reached out and placed his fingertips on her lips. "Only me." The horrendous nightmare receded back into the swirling mist of unperceivable threats. He knew this because she quieted again, letting him gently cool her brow. It did little to help the fever.
"If that is my granddaughter lying there, Bréil I'm going to have you publicly flogged." A female voice snapped behind him.
Bréil didn't bother to wince; the angry tone in the Queen's voice wasn't directed at him anyway. No doubt Victoria was still seething because Sebastian had managed to thwart her plans. Again. "Yes my lady," he muttered, leaning over to dump the cloth back into the cool water. "How are you doing Sebastian? Has she been any trouble?"
"How did you know I was here Bréil?" the man grumbled, sounding vexed.
"You've been Victoria's unshakable shadow every time she tries to escape without anyone noticing."
"Unfortunately he is," Victoria stated briskly, hurrying over to Bréil and kneeling down on Alenor's other side. "She doesn't look good; you should have come back to La Vallée sooner."
"She won't let me get any closer," Bréil countered, his voice calm. "Alenor's barely coherent in her best moments but she's developed a ruthless fear of people. We're half a days ride from the farthest outlying sentry circle, I dare not go any closer."
"And you? Does she fear you?" Victoria demanded ignoring the rest of his words. She fixed him with a stare that reflected the fire's flickering flames.
Swallowing, Bréil looked down, smoothing back the hair that had stuck to her perspiring forehead. "She trusts me. A part of her does anyway."
"And why not all of her Bréil? You were to rescue her; you were to gain her confidence."
Stiffening, he looked his queen, anger igniting instantly at the accusation. "You told me that I was to rescue her in whatever way I thought necessary. The way I rescued her ensured the fact that we don't have to look for Orcs every time we draw a breath!"
"What did you do?" her voice had dropped an icy pitch.
"I beat her," Bréil responded just as icily, staring back into her eyes. "Do not try to overrun me Victoria. Here I am the leader; here I am in charge, here what I say goes. If I want to truss you up on your horse and let Sebastian take you home: I can. If I want you to be the washing woman: you will. If I want you to remain silent, you will. When I say jump, you jump!" He stared at her, refusing to back down. He was in charge.
Victoria's eyes lowered first. "Yes sir," she said meekly.
"Bréil see here! We haven't exercised the rule for hundreds of years! That's no way to treat her!"
"Sebastian," Bréil said warningly, his voice still icy. "I hold you both in the highest regard but I will not let you interfere with Alenor. If you can help heal her, my many thanks, but if she sees you she will panic and jeopardize her precarious situation further."
"I am her Grandmother!" Victoria protested, the blood draining from her face. "She has to remember me!"
"She was three when she went missing," Bréil said, turning back to Alenor. Reaching out he caressed her cheeks gently, placing his lips next to her ear. "Alenor," he whispered. "You have to wake up. For me. Come on." He leaned back, groping blindly for the cup of watered down soup that he had placed behind him. His fingers brushed against Victoria's as she handed it over to him. "Stand back."
As if hearing his words Alenor stirred, her glazed eyes opening. "I heard voices," she whispered, fright creeping into her voice. "Bréil, Bréil are they back?"
"No Alenor," he assured, slipping an arm around her shoulders, scrutinizing the flashes of pain on her face to make sure it was not resting against any major whip slashes. "Just you and me. Come, drink." He held the cup up to her lips, watching as she weakly parted her lips. Seeing her right hand try to come up to support it, Bréil shifted a bit to pin it lightly down with his knee. "Drink. I'll hold it"
Alenor turned her head away, sloshing the remaining down her front. "I'm sorry."
"No, its okay," Bréil set the cup next to him, gently wiping off her face with the cloth from the pot, clearing away the soup. "Are you ready to take your medicine? Can you swallow?"
"It hurts," she trembled, her eyes holding his, there was barely a hint of sanity in them. "I'm so cold, can you warm me?"
"You know I can't do that," Bréil murmured, smoothing back her hair, letting his calm emotions spread out toward her. "But how about we take your medicine later?"
"I would like that."
"Then we will," he assured, shifting her shivering body closer to his, so as to be able to control her better when he spoke next. "What would you say as to having a few visitors in our camp? People I trust."
Instantly Alenor's body went rigid, and her breathing accelerated into panicked pulls. "No!" she screamed, twisting fiercely in his grip, pulling at her wounds, irritating them. "No! I won't let them take me!" She screamed louder, trying to pull away, hardly aware that she was causing herself more pain
"Shh, shh, Alenor. There's no one here but you and me," Bréil hushed, easing her body into a rocking motion that was used to calm crying babies. "It's alright, settle down." He held her that way until her breathing evened out and the tears had halted. He only let her go when the camp had fallen dead silent.
"Why did you show us that? Why did you make her suffer again?" Victoria demanded, not managing to get her angry tone above a strangled whisper.
"To show you how fragile her mind is, how unbalanced she is. Anything can set her off, she doesn't trust anything or anyone" Bréil answered, covering Alenor back up with a light cloak. "Shall I tell you all they did to her?"
"Please spare us," Sebastian interrupted. "For mine and my lady's sake."
Ignoring him, Bréil stood. Crossing his arms he stared out at the crescent moon, his back away from Victoria and her guard. "I stood and watched as the beat her with a whip. She didn't last long, longer then I thought she would have, but not much more. She passed out, her voice cracked with screaming. They released her from chains, and they had her. Five, maybe more had their way with her. And then those that had been denied their pleasure kicked her, beat her, cut shallow wounds into her body. She was unconscious but some part of her was aware of what they were doing. Some part of her was aware and it broke her, caused her to drift like a boat without anchorage." He turned to them, appraising them with his eyes drawn down. "That is why I need to handle this alone. I've been with her long enough to know how to behave, how to touch her properly, how to heal her properly. If you want to help me get back to La Vallée before we are discovered, then you must do so from the shadows."
"As you command," Victoria said, bowing a little at the waist, her voice quivering with emotional strain. "Dear Eru how could they have done that to her?" As if she could no longer handle it, her eyes rolled up into the back of her head and she collapsed into Sebastian's waiting arms.
The smoldering gaze of the guard met Bréil's own. "She had to know," he commented shortly, before turning sharply on heel to go look for a few herbs he needed. He was not afraid to leave Alenor alone, he knew that neither Victoria nor Sebastian would touch her.