Just a Friend- Chapter 5
Hi there! More fanfic coming your way- I am finishing the majority of my exams within the next week, so will hopefully have a lot more time to write more fanfiction. Yippee!
To all those who have reviewed and to whom I haven't replied- I would love to reply, but unfortunately you are reviewing as guests, not through an account, so I can't message you. So here's a thank you for all of you. :)
To Winterfell: again, I wish I could message you and say thanks. To answer your questions: 'Strider' is not king-ing (and yes, that should be a verb) because he knew 'Las' was missing, so was actively searching for him, and gave up on king-ing to try and find him. And as for why Alya isn't using athelas- I think 'Strider' said it was just used commonly so nobody would guess who he really is. Though I think we all know...
Disclaimer: see Chapter 1
The cottage was silent, the only sound the pattering of rain on the roof, and the occasional drip of water into the pots on the floor.
Telan found himself unable to look away from the man- Strider, as he now knew him. And Las, the elf. A sudden thought struck him, and he realised he had no idea of knowing whether those were their real names. Strider could have picked any name he wanted.
Yet for some reason, Telan found himself instinctively trusting Strider. There was something different about him, some sort of quality that made him seem so different to the other men, especially the ones who had tried to take the elf- Las, as he must remember now.
Strider checked over Las once more, his face worried. But Telan felt he saw something else in the man's face, maybe something hidden deep behind the grim expression and dark, tangled hair. He looked at Las like a man like look at their brother- an instinctive love. Which was odd, because there was no way they could be related.
"Are you friends?" asked Alya softly. Telan supposed she must have seen Strider's look as well, and was briefly annoyed that he didn't get to ask. But annoyance faded away quickly into curiosity as Strider looked up at them.
"Aye," murmured Strider. "He and I have known each other for a long, long time. I forget how many years." He smiled softly and smoothed back a lock of hair from Las' forehead.
"I am Henric, and this is my wife Alya," said Henric, taking a step forwards. "My son is Telan, and the one in his arms is our daughter Cat. You may stay, share our roof and look after your friend."
Strider inclined his head. "Thank you for letting me help him," he said.
"Thank you for chasing off those men," replied Alya. "Those men from the town are always bad news."
"They are lucky I only chased them off," growled Strider. "If they come back, I shall not be so lenient." He looked down at his sword, and realised it was still on his belt. "Forgive me. I should have removed my sword." With deft hands he took it off and rested it against the wall.
Telan gazed at it in admiration, and his gaze grew wider as Strider removed two long white knives from where he had hastily stuck them in his belt and placed them next to the sword. A quiver that had been slung over one shoulder came next, half filled with arrows. Finally a bow that had been hooked over the quiver came to rest beside the sword and the knives.
Telan started towards them, transfixed. Strider looked up. "Don't touch."
"Sorry," said Telan, backing away hastily. "I didn't mean to…"
"It's alright," said Strider, moving to sit on the edge of the bed next to Legolas. "But my sword is… rather special, in a way, and the rest aren't my weapons." He picked up one of the long white knives. It was crusted with blood. "These belong to Las."
Telan's eyes were still on the sword. It was long, much longer than his father's old one, and the sheath was etched with words that he couldn't read. He doubted whether they were actually the language he knew. Strider shifted and Telan looked away from the sword quickly, but Strider was only putting down the long white knife with a sigh. He looked back at Las, seemingly lost in thought.
Henric glanced out the window. "It's late," he said. "You should sleep, love. You've been up with the elf every night."
Alya nodded, stifling a yawn. "Telan, Cat, come on. Are you wanting somewhere to sleep, Strider?"
"Nay," replied Strider, not taking his eyes from Las. "I will stay here. I have learnt to sleep sitting in a chair." The corner of his mouth twitched up in a smile. "I have slept in far worse places."
"Alright then," said Alya. She looked at Henric.
"I might stay up a bit," said Henric. "I'm not tired."
Alya nodded, and then Telan followed her and Cat into the other room, the door swinging shut behind them. Henric watched them go.
He sighed as he sat down next to the fireplace. "My thanks for tonight, Strider," he said.
"You do not need to thank me," said Strider. "Even if Las was not here, I would not stand by and watch those men threaten you like that. It is my duty to stop them."
"Are you a soldier?" asked Henric.
Strider smiled softly. "Of some sorts."
"You don't sound Gondorian."
"I'm not, though I live in Minas Tirith," replied Strider. "I came from Arnor, a ranger. That is where I learnt to fight."
"My son, Telan," said Henric, "wants to learn to fight. I've seen him, swinging around branches like they're swords, pretending he is a soldier."
Strider pulled a bowl of water closer to him and rewetted the cloth on Las' forehead. "Do you want him to be one?"
"I was a soldier in Minas Tirith, during the War," said Henric. At this Strider frowned slightly, but Henric didn't notice and continued. "Though I did not go to the Black Gate, I was in the siege, as was Alya. Telan had been sent away." Henric sighed. "I never want to see anything like that again. To let my son see the same…"
"But there is no war now," said Strider softly. He was by the fire now, boiling herbs in water over the flame. He turned his head to look at Henric. "Your lad is brave."
"Foolish, more like," replied Henric. "That's why we moved out here. The city had too many ghosts."
"Aye," said Strider. "I know what you mean."
"Were you in the War?"
"I was," said Strider. "I was at Minas Tirith and then journeyed on to the Black Gate."
"But you said you were from the north," said Henric with a frown. He thought for a bit. "I remember the King brought Rangers with him up the Anduin. Were you one of those?"
"I suppose so," said Strider with a small smile. He took the water off the fire and blew on it. "I was there for all of it. But the War is over now. There is peace."
"Aye, and we paid for it dearly," growled Henric.
"We did," said Strider with a sigh. Dipping his hand in the herb-laced water, he judged it to be cool enough for Las, and poured some into a cup. Shifting so he sat on the bed, he carefully raised Las' head and trickled the water down his throat. Las twisted in the bed, his eyes firmly shut. A bead of sweat trickled down his face.
Strider grimaced as he felt Las' forehead. "Is he any better?" asked Henric.
He is not," said Strider softly, his voice low. He ran a hand across his face with a sigh. "I can give him the herbs to help stop the poison, but whether he still has the strength to fight it, I don't know."
"Have you known him long?"
Strider smiled. "For most of my life," he said. "We have fought together countless times. I have saved his life many times, and he has saved mine. It happens more often than you would think, with him." Strider smirked. "He draws trouble from everywhere."
"I know the type," said Henric. "When I was a soldier, there was one who was constantly getting into trouble on the battlefield. Half the times it was only luck that saved him. But despite that everybody seemed to love him. He was one of my best friends."
"Where is he now?" asked Strider.
"He was killed in the siege of the city," said Henric sadly. "His luck ran out."
"Sorry," said Strider.
"Don't be. I'm sure you've lost your fair share of friends over the years."
"Aye," murmured Strider. "I have. But never Las. He has come close to it quite a few times, and has nearly died on me more times than I care to remember, but he is alive still." He chuckled. "One time he was stabbed, beaten and poisoned, all in one go, and he still came out the other side."
"How…?" asked Henric.
"How did he survive?" Strider shook his head. "Elves are more resilient than mortals. They live forever, and though they can be slain, it takes a lot more than it does to kill a man. But most of it for Las was luck." He sighed again, putting down the cup on the floor. "Let's hope his luck lasts for one more time."
0-o-0-o-0
When Telan woke up, the rain had stopped and the sun was shining through the gaps in the shutters. He rolled over and got up, brushing the dust from his clothes. He had slept on a blanket last night, his mother and Cat taking the mattress, and the elf still in the bed.
Rubbing his eyes, he made his way into the other room. He heard his father talking, and then his gaze fell on the man sitting on the bed next to the elf. Suddenly all the memories of last night came rushing back.
"How is he?" he asked fearfully, looking at the elf. He looked in bad shape, worse than yesterday.
"Worse," said Strider shortly. He gently put a hand on Las' chest, but the elf twisted away. Strider moved so he was sitting closer to Las, and caught one of his hands. "Las," he murmured, and the elf stilled.
Strider kept talking, but Telan couldn't catch any of the words. It was like music rather than speech, the words slipping from the man's tongue like flowing water. Las was still as Strider spoke, and Telan could feel a calmness settling over the cottage.
He didn't know how long it had been when Strider finally fell silent, but Alya and Cat were also in the room now. Alya shook her head slightly, as if to wake up, and then busied herself with serving breakfast.
Telan realised his mouth was open and shut it. Las was sleeping somewhat peacefully, from the looks of it, and Strider sat back, sighing. He caught Telan's eye. "He should rest for a while now," he muttered.
Alya pressed a bowl into Strider's hands, containing a thick porridge. "I'm sorry there isn't much," she began to say. "We have-"
Strider cut her off. "I am grateful" he said. "For you allowing me to stay here and tend to my friend. If you would, I have some food of my own that I would be happy to share." He pulled his pack over with a foot and rummaged through it, finally pulling out a wrapped packet. He handed it over.
Alya unwrapped it to find strips of salted pork and other meats, along with wafers of biscuit. "No, we can't," she said. "It is your own food, and-"
"Take it," said Strider. He was busy repacking his pack, as the food had been down the bottom, and he had pulled out a lot of stuff whilst trying to reach it. As he stuffed a spare tunic back into his pack, something fell out and landed on the floor near Cat. She stooped and picked it up.
She turned it over in her hands. It was a flat square packet and wrapped in some sort of leaf, though it was unfamiliar. She looked up. "What's this?"
"Cat, give it back," said Telan, and Strider took it from her hand. He unwrapped a corner of it, revealing a pale creamy biscuit.
"It is lembas bread," he said.
"Le…Lembas bread?" asked Cat.
"It is elvish food," explained Strider. "I brought it in case I found Las, but right now he is cannot eat it." Cat gazed at it in wonder, and Strider broke off a corner and split it in two. He looked up at Henric and Alya. "It won't harm them, I promise."
Henric looked less than satisfied, so Strider broke off another piece of lembas and ate it himself, before handing Henric and Alya a small piece each. "It is meant to give you strength," he said. "Like cram, but better."
Henric nodded, taking the pieces, and Cat and Telan took the other two pieces from Strider. They both nibbled at it. Telan frowned. "It tastes…I don't know," he said. "Not sweet, but not, well, not sweet either. It's…"
"Wholesome?" asked Strider, and Telan nodded, finished off the rest of his piece. Strider put the lembas back in his pack. "Eating only lembas can keep you going for weeks."
"Is it magical?" asked Cat, her eyes wide.
Strider chuckled slightly. "In the same way that elves are magical, I suppose. I don't know, but Las will probably assure you it is not." At those words Strider's gaze was drawn back to the elf and his face became troubled.
"Eat your porridge Telan," said Alya. Telan jumped. He had been watching Strider again as the man tended to the elf. He was amazed to see how gentle Strider was, when he knew the man was strong enough to throw another man to the floor. Strider's face had changed as well, becoming softer, some of the lines disappearing as he smoothed back a lock of hair from Las' brow. They must be really good friends, he thought.
"Telan!" Telan jumped again and wolfed down his breakfast. It was hot and burnt his tongue, but it tasted alright and he was hungry.
Henric was standing by the door. "Come on," he said to Telan. His gaze lingered on Strider as they left the house.
To Be Continued...
Again, reviews are very, very welcome. Next chapter will be up in two days- a Monday for me. I'm so tired, it's getting a little hard to keep track of the days. :)