Just a Friend- Chapter 5
Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed this. Things may be coming to a bit of a head in this chapter, elfwise, though there are still quite a few chapters to come after this.
Disclaimer: see Chapter 1
The sun was sinking by the time Telan and Henric made it back to the house. As soon as they pushed open the door they could hear the elf.
Strider was sitting on the edge of the bed, talking soothingly, but Las still kept twisting and crying out, his face covered in sweat. The cloth slipped from his forehead and Strider cursed in another language. He bent down, dunked it in the bowl of cold water again, and then put it back on Las' forehead. Only this time, he didn't take his hand away.
Telan watched as Strider closed his eyes and began to speak in the musical tongue. As time drew on his voice became more and more distant, like he was deep in some other place, his body left behind. Las stilled slightly under his hand, but was still tossing his head, faint words escaping his lips every now and then.
Eventually Strider sat back, and the spell of those words broke. He sighed. His face looked drawn and weary, and he ran a hand through his hair. Beside him Las' lips moved again, whispering in the same lyrical tongue that Strider used.
"What are you saying to him?" asked Telan quietly. He took off his jacket and hung it in front of the fire. Alya was cooking over the fire and Cat had two dolls out on the small table in the room.
Strider looked up, a half smile crossing his face. "I don't know anymore," he said softly. "I am just saying I am here, that he is safe, and that..." He sighed again. "I doubt he can hear me," he said despondently. "The fever has a tight grip on him, and he is burning up. Part of me is thankful he is unconscious."
"Why?" asked Telan. He hadn't meant to ask, but the word had slipped out of his mouth, and he blushed. "Sorry," he muttered.
Strider shook his head, absent-mindedly clasping Las' hand again. "It's alright," he said softly, his voice weary and so different to when he had pinned that man against the wall. Yet Telan could still hear the slight undercurrent in Strider's voice, amplified when he glanced over at the elf, and it made him wonder yet again whether there was any way they could be related by blood.
Strider looked back at Telan. "If he was awake..." he said slowly. "I don't know what it is he would be seeing. This type of poison can cause visions and hallucinations, until the person falls unconscious." Strider ran a hand through his hair. "I have seen only a small part of what Las has seen in his lifetime. If he were to see things, hallucinate, because of the fever, it would be agony to watch. I have no idea what he would see, but I know it would not be good."
Telan watched the elf again, as he twisted and moaned softly on the bed. Strider turned to him and murmured something in the strange lyrical tongue, and Las quietened, if only slightly.
"What language is that?" asked Telan softly.
"Sindarin," replied Strider. "The Grey Tongue. It is the language of the elves."
Telan looked shocked. "But...you speak it so well."
A small smile appeared on Strider's face. "I have spent a lot of time with elves," he said. "I can speak the tongue as well as this one." Las twisted again on the bed and trembled, violent shivers going down his body. Strider grabbed hold of both of his hands as he shook and started to speak rapidly, the words tumbling and flowing from his tongue.
"Are you telling him it's all going to be fine?" The voice came from the other side of the room, and Strider's gaze fell on Cat, her young face curious. Las fell still, and Strider grew quiet.
"I am not," he said after a pause. Cat frowned, her little head tilted to one side, her curls falling down over her shoulder.
"Why? That is what my Ma tells me if I feel poorly." At this Alya glanced up from the fire, and smiled sympathetically at Strider, before turning back to the pot. Strider sighed.
"Because Las has heard those words too many times for him to ever believe them," he said softly. "I should know." He glanced back at the elf again. "I am just telling him I am here, and that I won't leave, and..." He trailed off and fell silent.
Las shifted again and his lips moved, faint words being whispered through cracked lips. Strider leant in close, listening as the elf talked in his feverish sleep. Telan could not make out the words he spoke.
"What is he saying?" he whispered, somehow feeling it was not appropriate to talk loudly.
Strider looked up. "Nothing that makes sense," he said wearily.
"Who's Estel?" piped up Cat from the table.
Strider started slightly. "Why?" he asked, a guarded tone creeping into his voice.
"He called out for him quite a lot before you came," replied Telan. "The way he said the name, I figured it was his friend or something." As Telan watched the elf again, Las' lips moved, and this time Telan was pretty sure they were making out the word Estel, again and again, as if this person was a lifeline he could cling to, to pull himself up.
Strider shook his head. "Estel is- was a friend of Las. But the man with that name is long gone now." Almost without thinking he took one of Las' hands and spoke softly in the Grey Tongue. Las stilled slightly, his lips no longer moving, calling out for Estel.
"Is he dead?" asked Cat.
"Cat!" said Telan sharply, but Strider shook his head.
"It's alright, Telan," he said. "Honestly, I don't know. He might be."
"What happened to him?" This time the voice belonged to Alya, who was bending over a pan in the fire. A few sausages and some bacon were sizzling on the pan.
Strider paused. "He…grew up," he said slowly. "He fought in many battles, and faced many things that he couldn't…understand, maybe. He was young, and didn't understand why the world was so cruel. He started to slip away, more and more frequently, until one day he just didn't come back." He bowed his head.
"I'm sorry," said Alya.
Strider sighed. "I would barely know him now," he said. His gaze fell back on Las and grew sober. He reached out and grasped one of the elf's hands, squeezing it lightly. Las whimpered slightly and twisted his head so he faced Strider, who reached out with one hand and gently brushed the hair back from his sweaty brow, replacing the wet cloth.
Alya passed him a plate of a sausage and a rasher of bacon. "You need to eat," she told him, passing out the rest of the food.
Strider smiled slightly, balancing the plate on his lap so he could keep hold of Las' hand. "My thanks," he murmured.
For a while it was quiet as they ate, the only noises being the crackling of the fire and the occasional moan that escaped from the elf's lips. Strider still held the elf's hand as Alya took his plate, and as soon as that happened he was looking over Las again, his face troubled as he felt the heat coming from his skin. He ground his teeth.
"Is he worse?" asked Telan.
"Aye" said Strider shortly. "I have done all I can with herbs to help him. Tonight will be the end of it, one way or another."
"What do you mean?" asked Henric, his brow furrowed in concern.
Strider sighed heavily. "Either his fever will break tonight, or it will not break at all and he will slip into a deep sleep from which he won't return. I have seen this before."
Cat and Telan's mouths were wide open. "But…but he's an elf!" said Cat. "Elves don't die."
Strider smiled sadly. "I'm afraid they do," he said sadly. "The tales are wrong sometimes."
"Is there anything we can do?" asked Alya.
Strider shook his head. "It is in the hands of the Valar now."
0-o-0-o-0
That night was the longest night Telan had ever experienced. He sat by the fire as darkness fell outside. Cat was put to bed in the other room, but she would not sleep unless Alya or Henric were in there. Telan didn't move, sitting with his knees curled up to his chest and watching Strider.
The elf had started to shake uncontrollably an hour or so after they had eaten. He was trembling now, his head twisting from side to side as faint whimpers escaped his lips. His entire body was covered in sweat and occasionally he cried out in another tongue, the words soft, yet loud in the stillness of the cottage.
Telan jumped as Las cried out again, this time for Estel, followed by a string of words that he could not make sense of. Strider spoke back in the same tongue quietly, murmuring soft words in the elf's ear.
He had given up on sitting on the edge of the bed as soon as Las had started trembling. With a worried look in his eyes, he had shifted so he sat up against the wall on the bed. Las was leant up against his chest, and the man's arms tightly encircled the elf. Telan had noticed, though he wished that he hadn't, how the man's hands shook as he held the elf up against his chest.
Telan glanced at Strider's face every so often. It was a tight mask, but he could see in the grey eyes a flash of fear every now and then, as Las twisted violently, or called out for Estel yet again. Strider had taken to murmuring soft words almost constantly now as he held onto the shaking elf. Telan could make some of it out, as he spoke in the Common Tongue as well.
"It's alright," was what Strider repeated the most. "I'm here, mellon-nin." And yet the elf continued to shiver in his arms.
The fire died down, and Telan stirred to put another log on, thankful for the wood he had managed to bring back. It seemed so long ago when he had gone out with Cat to find logs, and had instead found an elf.
He dozed fitfully, jerking awake just as he managed to slip off into sleep. He wanted to sleep, wanted to just avoid the night and wake up the next morning, without having to wait to see whether the elf would live. But as soon as he thought that he felt guilty, like he was willing the elf to be silent.
Strider still sat holding onto Las, whispering soothing words in the elf's ear. As the night drew on, the words became more and more urgent. Telan, awake at one point, watched as Strider gently kissed the top of the elf's head. "I'm sorry," Telan heard him murmur. "I'm sorry I didn't find you until now. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to tell you how you have always been the most loyal of friends. I'm sorry I have caused you so much pain, that you've had to save my life over and over again. I'm sorry that you followed me, all the way, and that now I cannot follow you."
Telan watched as a tear fell down Strider's cheek. "What would you say to me now, foolish elf?" he whispered. "What would you tell me now? How your actions were your own, and I am not to blame? Ai Valar, I have heard that one so many times. And yet I can't help feeling a little guilty, mellon-nin. I can't help it. I am the mortal one, and yet so many times you have nearly died. I can't help it, mellon-nin."
Strider then slipped into the other, more lyrical tongue that Telan couldn't understand, and the soft words washing over him gently lulled him to sleep.
To Be Continued...
Does that count as a cliffie? *Runs and hides just in case it does*. Next chapter will be up on Wednesday.