Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings belong to J.R.R Tolkien, the only people I own are Alenor Talagand, Bréil, Sebastian and Victoria.
A/N TO ALL READERS (Anonymous and Others): I don't want to sound like I'm bullying anyone into a review, but due to continuing lack of support to this story I will discontinue it, if people do not start letting me know what they think and/or give me criticism. In short, if you want me to continue start reviewing
Fate's Paths-Chap17-Danger in the Morning
The warmth that seeped through into her chilled hands was almost as refreshing as the hot liquid pouring down her throat. She moaned in pleasure.
Opening her eyes, Alenor lowered the worn traveling cup away from her lips. It was the best thing she had tasted in so long. Absently she released the cup to one hand so she could fiddle with the necklace sheltered under the clothing she wore. She thought she would never have the courage to take it off.
She could still feel the madness, the memories of her experience. They haunted the farthest rooms of her mind. Alive, pushed away, but not entirely. A thought, a remembered horror would still touch her, and for a moment her mind would drift, but Celebrian's charm, full of love and warmth would bring her back.
A soft snore startled Alenor from her broodings. Releasing the necklace's chain she glanced around. Bréil was preparing a morning meal on a smoking fire. He was silent; the only noise was his preparations. He respected the quiet she wished to have.
"Who are they again?" Alenor asked. She paused taking a cautionary sip, but watched him over the rim of the cup.
"I think it would be best if they explained that to you," he answered, jumping back as a spark flared at him. "As I said, their names are Victoria and Sebastian. Any more, and I will confuse you."
Alenor tilted her head. A soft plume of mist escaped her mouth as she blew across the hot liquid that resided in the cup. "It is almost winter."
"I thought you wanted quiet."
Alenor shot him a look, almost glaring again. "It was getting oppressive," she retorted. She moaned in pain as she shifted positions.
"Alenor?" Bréil straightened and started toward her before he fully realized what he was doing. "Did something move?"
"No, no it's alright. There was a tree root digging into…" she trailed off, blushing slightly. "I'm alright."
Bréil paused, as if unsure what to do. "Can I look at them?"
"Too cold," Alenor shivered, bringing the cup closer to her face. She bathed in the warm seeping out from the inside. Aware of Bréil's frown, she glanced up and smiled gently. "If there was more, I would tell you," she paused, but then added, "I don't want to be touched either." It was harder for her to keep the thoughts at bay when his hands were on her. She had nothing against him taking care of her injuries, but something in her mind rebelled.
"Bréil…."
Stiffening, she clutched the cup tighter as a momentary wave of fear lodged in her throat. Alenor gazed sharply toward one of the sleeping bundles that moved. It was Victoria, or so she guessed by the femininity in the voice. Catching Bréil's look of concern from the corner of her eye, Alenor shook her head minutely. She was all right.
"What do you need Victoria?" he asked, bending back to his work as a chill gust of wind threatened to extinguish his fire.
"I thought I heard voices."
Nodding, mostly to herself, Alenor set the cup next to her and using a relatively uninjured hand, levered herself to a standing position using the conveniently placed tree behind her. She was aware of Bréil's concern, but chose, for the moment to ignore it. She did not blame him for being worried about her current state but sometimes the attention he gave her was almost too much.
"Victoria? Bréil said that was your name. I think I know you," Alenor said hesitantly, limping toward the woman who had, at the sound of her voice jerked into a sitting position. She was elderly, but unbowed by it. Stern, yet soft. Old yet young. Alenor saw it all in that one glance that the woman gave her before shock and recognition overruled it.
"Alenor." A hand fluttered to her lips. "Bless Eru, what happened?"
"My Naneth gave me a charm to keep my past behind," Alenor said gently. "Bréil, please, I need help."
Instantly responding Bréil moved over and touching her as little possible he helped her sit. Nevertheless he felt her flinch under his fingers. It was involuntary, but it did not stop the revulsion that threatened to consume him as he was reminded, yet again that he had part in doing her harm.
"Bréil."
Alenor responded herself as she felt the ground firmly behind her. Bréil's fingers lingered on her shoulders. "Its all right. I'm sitting," she assured him. "Victoria wants to talk to me."
"Of course. I'll finish breakfast," Bréil, shot a warning glance at Victoria and returned to his duties. It was a look that Alenor failed to see.
There was a brief moment of uncomfortable silence between the women. Nervous, Alenor's hand had dropped to her throat and her fingers twisted through the chain. Victoria watched her in silence, her eyes scanning for something Alenor couldn't know.
"You said your Naneth gave you that," Victoria said at last. "Which Naneth?"
Confused, Alenor tilted her head. "Celebrian. She is Elrond's wife." She knew the moment she had said it that she had somehow hurt Victoria's feelings. "I'm afraid to say I do not understand this."
"You speak calmly, and wisely for one of such young age."
"Yes, well, the Elves will do that to you," Alenor replied. She bit her lower lip and looked down. A heartache rose inside her. She missed her brothers and grudgingly also their pranks. She was almost missing the lessons with Erestor. Almost, but not quite. She found it so odd what someone noticed when they were away from home.
"Do you remember your real Mother?" Victoria asked. She glanced sideways as Sebastian unrolled himself from his bedroll, but he said nothing. Instead he silently went to Bréil to assist him.
"My real Mother?" Alenor demanded, suddenly angry. "I don't want to talk about that. How dare you bring it up! Who told you?"
"Alenor," Victoria reached out desperately. She grabbed Alenor's hands even as she tried to tug them away. "You're a Numorean don't you know that?"
"Lord Elrond told me," Alenor answered coldly. She didn't try to pull away again. It only caused the tendrils of pain to wrap around her back and shoulders. She had no wish for them to tighten their grip on her. "What does this have to do with you? Release me!"
Startled by the tone of voice, Victoria let her go and leaned back. "Child," it was a broken plea. "Don't you recognize me? I'm your Grandmother."
Alenor froze half in the act of attempting to stand. She had gritted her teeth against the pain, and was suddenly glad for it. It stopped her from speaking in surprise, shock, confusion and anger. How dare Victoria indicate she was related to her?
"Bréil," she whispered, managing to get the sound out. Her head was spinning. She wanted to get away from Victoria. Wanted to get away from the sudden little comparison details she was picking up. It was insanity.
"Victoria! I can't believe you thrust this upon her. Alenor is barely in any state to listen to this." Bréil rushed over and eased Alenor into his arms.
"She needed to know."
Alenor turned her head away, burying it into Bréil's warm shoulder. She was shaking, she knew only by the pain that was closing in on her, choking the life from her. "Bréil," she coughed. "Bréil get me out of here. I want to go home."
Glaring at Victoria, Bréil soothed her, and walked back to the tree. The leaves had pretty much faded from its branches and early winter was creeping stealthily from the higher peaks. They had to move soon, or the gates to La Vallée would be shut for the winter. Bréil was aware of it, but was afraid to act upon it. Despite the unexpected help Alenor had received, it was still not enough to sustain her for the long days ahead, even when they were within the scouting rings. Besides, they would already be subtly pulling back to the city, leaving only one ring to remain outside for the winter months.
"Bréil, please, let me go home." Alenor looked at Bréil, almost begging him to awaken from his daydream. She just wanted to go back home. To Rivendell. She wanted nothing more to do with the fleeting fantasy that had caused her to imagine that there was a thread that connected her to her past. She wanted to forget it.
"You will," he answered her. "When the Spring comes. Rivendell is still too far away for you."
Alenor knew he had spoken correctly but she was less then pleased about it. "When the Spring comes?" she repeated.
"No later," Bréil promised as he started to set her down.
"Bréil! Don't set her down," Sebastian suddenly barked. "We got trouble. There's someone after us."
Jumping and letting loose a few curses Bréil straightened, with Alenor still in his arms. "Who is it?"
"I don't know. He moves with the shadows. He is swift and silent. But there is murder in his walk," Sebastian answered, pulling Victoria from her bedroll. "We must pack the horses and get behind the sentry lines. They will not allow this stranger passage."
Alenor straightened, despite the strain it caused her. The words engraved themselves in her mind. Only an Elf could possibly walk so quiet. It had to be one of her brothers. "Bréil! Bréil wait!" she called as he eased her onto a horse.
"Alenor, not now," he cut her off. "We're going to have to ride double, just leave everything behind, we don't need it."
"He will see it. Whoever stalks us will know for sure that we were here."
"We don't have time!" Bréil snapped, leaping up behind Alenor. "Take only what you need."
Victoria, bowing in submission to Bréil's command threw her bedroll over the other's horse's back. Quickly she mounted and a moment later Sebastian jumped up behind her, after putting out the fire.
"Wait!" Alenor tried to scream it, but the sudden lurch of the horse picking up into an immediate trot cut her words off into a gasp. Pain shuddered through her and unable to speak, she leaned back against Bréil, moaning. His arms wrapped around her and he whispered in comforting tones. She tried to tell him again that it could not possibly be danger coming but again she could not speak through her pain. Crying, she closed her eyes and hardened herself to the knowledge of once again being separated from her family.