A/N: been a hot minute bc im in the end game of my final semester and its insanity. BUT to make up for it i am posting TWO chapters at once. This is the first
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Chapter 22: and i'll be the one you rely on
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Following the Denethor and Faramir incident, Adrienne finds herself wandering through town again. Her parting conversation with Faramir weighs on her heart as she recalls the look in his eyes after his father told him–to his face–that he wished he had died instead of Boromir.
As an only child, Adrienne can only imagine how it must feel for Faramir to hear his father essentially say he'll never love him as much as he loves his brother. No one deserves to be hurt like that.
Not to mention the fact that Boromir would've been so upset to see his little brother hurt like that.
They both deserved so much better.
Coming out of her thoughts, Adrienne looks up and realizes she'd subconsciously been taking the same route she had the previous night. Now she stands before the open-faced woodworking shop belonging to Galena's girlfriend.
Walking up to the front, she watches as Jara leans over a work table with one outstretched arm helping support her. With her other hand, she sands the large board laid out across the table.
A strand of dark hair falls out of where the rest of it is pulled back into a messy bun of sorts at the base of her neck. She wears a work apron, and underneath, a white lace-up tunic and– shockingly! –trousers.
"Ah, a fellow pants-wearer at last," Adrienne comments with a grin.
Pausing in her work, Jara casts a glance over her shoulder toward Adrienne. Her eyes briefly widen in surprise, but it's gone in an instant, instead replaced with a carefully neutral look.
Undeterred, Adrienne kicks up her leg to show Jara her leggings. "See?"
The muscle in her cheek twitches as she visibly tries to maintain her cool facade. "What can I do you for?" she asks, keeping up the business routine of it all. She turns back to her work as she waits for an answer.
Adrienne rests her arms on the ledge of the wall and crosses them. Her eyes roam across the workshop, taking in all the various tools and works-in-progress. Out of all the impressive pieces, though, the one that most captures her attention is a nearly-finished bird carving sitting off to the side. "Just being neighborly," she answers. "I talked to Galena earlier."
The other woman falters, her hand stilling in its work, but it's the only giveaway of her being unsettled. "Did you?" she asks, managing to keep her voice casual.
"Yep, we–" she's interrupted as a man walks up to the front as well, carrying a chair.
"Got another project for ya, Jara," he says.
Ceasing the sanding, she walks over, brows raised. "Well what is it this time?"
"The kid got ahold of my tools again. Sawed off the leg of this chair."
There's a lighthearted glint in her eyes even as she narrows them at the man. "You've got to get better about that, I'd say. Tis not the first time; at this rate your son's liable to saw somethin' off worse than the leg of a chair."
"Yeah, yeah," he waves her off with a grin, not sheepish in the slightest. "So what do you say, will you take it on?"
Running her hand along the amputated chair leg to assess the damage, she sighs. "Only if you can bear to wait a fortnight. I've been taking on extra projects as of late, including some high-priority clients, and I'm a bit backed up at the moment."
"Many thanks!"
"Don't mention it."
"Only 'cause you like me, right?"
Jara takes the chair from him, lifting it over the ledge and placing it with the rest of the to-do's–but not before tossing him a look. "Watch yerself, Silas. I don't like anyone."
He laughs. "Right, of course. 'Cept for the baker's daughter–you two have been inseparable since you were just wee little things."
She blanches at that and doesn't comment.
Luckily, her reaction goes unnoticed by Silas as he peers around for someone. "And where's your father?"
"He went to have lunch with his brother. Has yet to return."
"Ah, just as well. You know I prefer your craftsmanship to his. I think most of us do by now."
She quirks a smile. "Don't tell him that."
Adrienne watches the whole exchange in interest. It's clear that–just as Galena said–Jara has really made a name for herself here, doing something she enjoys. The feat could not have been an easy task at first, what with breaking conventional occupation expectations for women, not to mention way of dress. But now her business is doing well and her customers love and respect her.
It only makes it all the sadder that she's planning to get up and leave.
The man shrugs unapologetically. "Tis his own fault for training you as well as he did. Anyway, I best head back to the missus."
"Good day, Silas," Jara calls, watching him leave with a shake of her head. As if remembering Adrienne's presence, her eyes then go to her and she scowls. "What are you still doing here?"
Adrienne frowns. "I just wanted to speak with you about my talk with Galena. I let her know I'm on your team. I'm like you."
Jara turns to pick up a stray board and scoffs. "You are not like us."
Her eyebrows lower in indignation. "But I am. I–"
In a swift movement, Jara whips back around. "No, you are not. I can see it in your eyes, in the way you compose yourself. You know not the struggle that we do; we live in fear every day, can trust not even our closest friends. Can you say the same?"
Adrienne blinks, slightly taken aback. "I-I can't say that I do," she admits. "But I have had a taste of what you face, which is why your situation is close to my heart."
Jara's jaw clenches. "What is it that you want?"
"I want to help you."
She laughs bitterly. "You cannot help us."
"But what if I can? I'm friends with Aragorn son of Arathorn, you know, rightful heir to the throne of Gon–"
In a flash, Jara is at her side. "You must not speak of such things!" she hisses through her teeth, eyes wide in horror. Then, lowering her voice, "There are ears everywhere."
"Okay…what I'm saying is I might be able to, I don't know, have some good influence and at least make your lives safe and bearable enough that you can continue to stay here."
Looking down at the scrap wood she'd picked up, Jara hesitates. "Even if what you say is true, if it comes to pass, it does not guarantee our safety. As long as both Berek and Denethor live, our whole livelihoods are in jeopardy. They," she falters, showing a glimpse of vulnerability as she blinks rapidly, "they always will be."
"But would you really be willing to leave everything behind? Your home, your business, your father."
"Yes! By the Valar, yes," she answers. "It is not a matter of if I would miss those things or not! Or if I care deeply for them or not, because I do. It is only a matter of what I'm willing to do for Galena–which is anything and everything." She lifts her chin in conviction, no trace of doubt in her voice. "I would give up the last breath of my lungs if it meant she would live but a moment longer."
Adrienne stares back, dumbstruck by the intense devotion, and thinks that perhaps she could learn a thing or two about love from this impossible love story.
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That evening, Adrienne meets Galena and together they walk over to Jara and her father's house. She's still processing the earlier interaction and, quite honestly, not sure if she's ready for more.
"I'm not gonna lie, I don't think your girlfriend really likes me."
Galena laughs. "Oh, that is simply what she's like. Do not take it to heart."
"O-kay," she says still uncertain but willing to take the girl's word on it.
The relief only lasts until they enter the house and Jara narrows her eyes. "What is she doing here?"
The baker glides over, resting a gentle hand on Jara's arm. "My love, Adrienne here is to join us for dinner this evening. Surely we can use any non-condemning friend we come across?"
Jara's narrowed eyes remain on Adrienne before she turns back to her girlfriend, giving a begrudging nod.
"Thank you," Galena says, planting a kiss on her lips.
Adrienne smiles at the exchange, but it drops when she sees an older man walk into the room. Her wide eyes fly to the couple, but they don't look concerned.
"Worry not," Jara assures. "He knows."
The man is of short stature and sports a white beard. What remains of his hair is white as well. He has a twinkle in his eye as he sets down the plate of meat he's carrying and walks over to the trio. "Of course I do. Why should I not?"
It feels Adrienne with glee to know there are some other open-minded people here.
"I take it you're Jara's father?"
"I am," he smiles. "And you are?"
"Adrienne. I'm new to town."
"Well my dear, there's always room for you here. Come, let us eat."
The four of them sit down together at the kitchen table, saying a brief prayer of thanks before digging in. They make polite conversation, asking Adrienne about herself. She answers as best she can without giving too much away-meaning telling them where and when she's really from or how she got here. They're impressed to hear she's traveling with Mithrandir and the others to destroy the Ring, but she thinks it's best not to speak too much on the subject.
Sitting at the head of the table, Jara's cheery father is all too happy to fill in a good chunk of the conversation. "When I was blessed with a daughter and no sons, many thought my situation to be unfortunate, but I had naught any reason to see it as such. Instead, I brought her up in the trade just as I would with a son and I'm all the glad I did, for she's fared better than I could have ever hoped."
Jara shakes her head, clearly embarrassed by the praise.
Her father only makes it worse when he takes her hand in both of his and lifts it to his lips to kiss, which only causes them all to laugh.
With a cheeky smile, Galena looks at Adrienne. "Speaking of her trade, would you like me to tell you how Jara used it to win my heart?"
"Gal." Jara glares at her, but the other woman's smile doesn't waver.
Adrienne grins. "Please–I'd love to."
"Well, when we were but small children, Jara would come by my parents' bakery every day trying to be my friend, but I was too shy. It did not deter her, though, and still every day she would show up. One day she presented me with a wooden bird she'd carved after learning how fond I am of the animal, and oh, I adored the thing–and soon her as well. She continued to make them, and I started giving her a loaf of bread or pastry in exchange."
"That's adorable!"
A friends-to-lovers if I ever heard it.
Galena's soft expression grows even fonder. "She's made several for me over the years, and I treasure each one, but the very first I keep with me at all times." With a beaming smile, she reaches into her dress pocket and pulls out the wooden bird. It's crudely made, obviously done so by a child, with different-sized eyes and inconsistent feather carvings. But most importantly, it's clear it was made with much love.
"Aye," Jara's father speaks up. "I remember the way she slaved over that thing, working late into the night to get it done."
Jara's face heats.
With a gentle reach of her hands, Galena takes her lover's hand in hers. "Her hands are covered in splinters and callouses, mine in baking flour, yet they fit together perfectly. There is no other for me, of that I have no doubt. I would have no other as long as I breathe."
Swallowing hard, Adrienne casts her gaze down at her plate. Once more, she's in awe of this couple's profound love for each other, and it only causes her to think of her painfully imperfect love for a certain elf. Galena and Jara are so willing to give up everything for each other, while she, on the other hand, only made things actively worse when the going got tough. She-indirectly-inflicted pain on Legolas when she should've been willing to be the one inflicted. She-
"What about you?" Galena questions, her musical voice curious. "Is there a lovely lady who has your heart?"
"A man actually–or Elf. He's…he's pretty incredible."
"He must be, to capture the heart of someone such as yourself. I trust he's deserving of it?"
"He deserves much better, actually," she says quietly.
In the silence that follows, Jara's father stands. "If you'll excuse me, I should be off to bed." He addresses Adrienne. "It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"And yours, sir," she says, watching as he plants a kiss on the top of his daughter's head before exiting the room. It's clear they have a close bond, one that reminds her of her relationship with her mother. After a moment, she looks to Jara. "He doesn't know you plan to run away, does he?"
The sapphic couple is silent, shifting uncomfortably and briefly exchanging guilty looks.
"I'll leave him a letter. It will…be hard," Jara finally answers, and Adrienne knows she means for the both of them, "but I also know he'll understand. All he wants is for me to be happy."
She nods, processing the significance of that. With a clearing of her throat, she attempts to change the subject. "I've heard rumors they may evacuate the women and children from the city. Would–"
"I won't leave my father," comes Jara's firm response.
Her girlfriend is quick to follow. "And I won't leave you."
"Galena," she sighs.
"I'm with you," she says firmly. "To whatever end."
Jara's eyes soften and Adrienne once more feels like she's intruding. This time, however, she takes the shame and inferiority she feels and makes a resolution right then and there to strive to show Legolas the same courtesy in the future. She'll spend the rest of her life convincing him of her devotion if she must, letting him know that she's with him to whatever end. Life or death, love or platonic, forgiveness or contempt.
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It's not often that the elven warrior finds himself anxious, but at the Dunharrow encampment, he finds himself as just that. Everything around him only contributes: the men, the animals, the mountain…
Most of all, though, Aragorn's outlook on the whole thing is making him uneasy. He seems to be losing faith, shown especially in his disappointment at how few men have shown up to help fight. It's unnerving, really, to see their ever-confident leader struggling to remain hopeful.
Legolas has known Aragorn for many years now and considers him to be one of his closest friends. He relies on his strength in many ways.
Amidst all the preparations for the upcoming battle, Legolas also can't help but think of Adrienne. The hurt still remains, of course, but it doesn't sting quite as bad since his talk with Aragorn the other night. After all, the man gave him a lot to consider, most of which he'd been too blinded by intense emotion to clearly acknowledge beforehand.
And, of course, there's also another reason for his thoughts to linger on the fiery woman. He fears for her safety, and with each hour that passes of them being so far out of reach, he hopes and prays she's okay. He needs her to be okay.
But worrying will get him nowhere, so he goes in search of Aragorn to see how to make himself useful. He's nearly to the King's tent when he passes by the last person he wants to see now or ever-the guard Adrienne slept with.
"How goes it, elven prince?" comes the guard's smug greeting.
An icy fire of hatred flares up in his chest, but he manages to keep it at bay as he ignores him.
The guard clicks his tongue. "Too high and mighty to greet a human as a friend?"
"I have no issues with humans," he clarifies, "but I do with you. We are not friends."
"Such hostility. Unnecessary, if you ask me," the man shrugs. "It's not as if I took something that ever truly belonged to you…" He looks to his fellow guards at his side and they all chuckle.
The fire within Legolas' chest spreads further and he narrows his eyes. "I would silence yourself this instant."
With another shared look with his buddies, the guard takes a couple of steps closer to Legolas, a mischievous glint in his eye. "By the way Elf," he says casually as if being reminded of something off-topic, "I haven't seen Lady Adrienne since our encounter the other night. What, did you send her away now that she's spoiled goods?"
"You disgust me," he spits.
"Is it really me who you are disgusted with?"
Seething, Legolas' fists tighten at his sides.
"No no, I'm just saying," the man continues before Legolas can respond. "I'm aware of the propriety of your kind, it must irk you to know she doesn't share the same values." He leans close. "But it matters not that I got to her first, for she was tainted long ago, by many, many m–"
Legolas shoves him up against a nearby tree, arm to his throat. "The difference," she seethes, "between my kind and yours, is that I long to bond with her very soul–the significance of which you could never even begin to fathom, lest your insignificant mind break. What I already share with her means more than anything she may have physically done with you or any other person."
"Legolas–" he's distantly aware of Aragron's voice beside him, urging him to back off.
He continues to hold the man's gaze as he stares into his eyes with utter disdain, ever so slightly increasing the pressure of his arm pressing into the man's throat.
"Let him go, lad," he hears Gimli chime in. "You're better than him."
Gritting his teeth, he straightens up and lets the guard go. "Now I suggest you get out of my sight before Im rist- cín lammen ed-" I cut your tongue out.
Rubbing at his sore neck, the guard narrows his eyes at him but complies, slinking away.
"Are you alright?" Aragorn asks once he's shooed off all the bystanders.
Legolas nods a bit sheepishly. "Yes, I apologize for behaving so brazenly."
The dwarf beside him snorts. "He had it comin' if ye ask me. It was only for your sake we stopped you."
Aragorn shoots him a wry look but can't help but agree. "As Gimli said, you're better than him."
And he is better than him, isn't he? Suddenly, like the last puzzle piece falling into place, he realizes that perhaps that's what he should be focusing on in order to give himself closure. He can't fix what Adrienne did-nor is it his responsibility-but he can fix the way he reacts to it; he can meet her mistakes not in the way she deserves but in the way she needs.
He can choose to be better. For him. For her. He can choose not to leave as her father and ex-boyfriend did or to use her like that guard did. He can choose to be the good influence she didn't get from other men. He can be the one who stays.
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A/N: LEGGY AND REE GET REUNITED NEXT CHAPTER I SWEAR! I just felt like it was necessary for them to go thro some separate development (I wouldn't include it if I didn't feel it serves a purpose!) so theyre prepared for it. The question is, are WE prepared o_o