Just a Friend- Chapter 8

Not sure how medically accurate a few parts of this chapter are, but never mind.

Disclaimer: see Chapter 1

The sky was darkening as Henric and Telan came home yet again. Henric slung a bag of food from his shoulders, and instantly Cat jumped towards it, pulling it open with her little hands.

Telan nudged her away. "We will eat soon enough," he said with a grin. Henric began to pull things out of the bag, ready for supper.

Telan looked across the room, where Strider was sitting next to the elf silently. As he watched Strider seemed to slump in the chair, before jerking awake again.

Alya noticed it as well. "When was the last time you slept, Strider?"

Strider rubbed a hand across his face. "I don't know," he muttered. "Two, no, three days before I cam here." He grimaced guiltily. "I did not sleep when I went to the inn in the town. And I cannot sleep until I am sure Las will be alright."

Alya frowned. "As a mother, I object," she said sternly. "You need to sleep."

Strider shook his head. "When I journeyed to the War up the Anduin, I did not sleep for days and still managed to fight at the end. I will be able to last a little while longer."

Alya pursed her lips, but said nothing else and crouched down, trying to start the fire up again. As she pulled a log from the pile at the side of the hearth, the pile fell and logs went rolling across the floor. Alya cursed as they scattered across the room.

Strider got up from the chair and bent down, collecting logs in his arms and passing them back to Alya. "Here," he said, holding out the last log, that had somehow made its way to the other side of the room.

Alya smiled. "My thanks," she said. She was turning to put the final log on the fire when Telan cried out.

"Strider!" he called.

Strider spun around in surprise. "What is it?" His hand instinctively went to his belt, though his sword was still leaning against the wall.

Telan wasn't looking at him. His gaze was fixed on Las, and Strider looked over at the bed to see the elf moving ever so slightly, tossing his head from side to side. As Telan watched, a faint groan escaped the elf's lips.

Strider was instantly on his feet and next to the bed. As Telan moved closer he sat down on the edge and gently shook the elf's shoulder.

"Mellon-nin?" he called softly. "Las, can you hear me?"

The elf made no response, but as Telan came to the end of the bed, Cat close behind him, he could see Las moving restlessly, his eyelids flickering. Strider kept talking, but was once again speaking in the lyrical tongue that Telan couldn't understand.

"Las?" he called softly once more. "Mellon-nin, lasto beth-nin."

The elf shifted again, and then his eyes flickered open and locked on Strider. "Estel," he breathed. Telan watched as the elf's gaze didn't leave Strider's, and he marvelled at the sheer relief in the Las' eyes, and in Strider's. Though, thought Telan with a frown, he didn't know why Las was calling Strider Estel. Maybe the poison was still in him, a little bit.

Strider broke out in a grin. "It's me, Las, it is Strider." He shifted again into the other tongue for a brief moment, and the elf seemed to listen, his eyes still not leaving Strider's face. When Strider finished he nodded once.

"What…?" Las tried to push himself up on his elbows, but as soon as he raised his head his face blanched, and, if possible, became even paler. Strider pushed him back down firmly.

"Don't you dare," he said softly.

Las looked at Strider for what seemed like a long time to Telan, before his face softened in realization. "That bad?" he rasped, his voice harsh.

"Aye," said Strider briefly. He paused and bowed his head. "There was a moment," he murmured softly. "Where I thought…Where I almost thought…" He sighed deeply. "Don't ever do this to me again."

Las smiled slightly. "I didn't…mean to. What happened?" He struggled to sit up slightly and this time Strider let him, pulling him up so he was leaning against the wall.

Strider shook his head. "You tell me, mellon-nin. I was searching for you for weeks."

Las frowned. "Weeks?" He caught sight of Telan, standing at the end of the bed, and his frown deepened. "Where am I?"

"In the house of Henric and Alya, near a town on the outskirts of Gondor," said Strider. "They found you."

"I found you!" piped a small voice from behind Telan, and Cat emerged with a grin on her face. Telan tried to push her back, but Las was looking at her intently, his silver eyes piercing. He smiled.

"Thank you, little one," he said softly. "I am in your debt." Telan could hear the slight lilting accent in Las' voice, and he felt himself not being able to look away from the elf. Las was so different from Strider, with his pointed ears and long blond hair, and his lighter build. And there was something else as well, a glimpse of something in the elf's eyes that Telan could see that fascinated him. As Las' gaze flickered over Telan again, he suddenly saw the elf as incredibly old. Then the elf's eyes cut back to Strider, and Telan saw a younger person sitting in front of him, younger than Strider.

Las managed a weak smile at Strider, and said something in the Grey Tongue, his voice harsh. Yet Telan could tell that normally, his voice would be soft and melodious, and that if he was not so pale, his face would be fair. Strider smiled slightly at what Las said, but his face suddenly turned worried as Las groaned and slumped back against the wall.

"What is it?" he asked urgently.

Las raised one eyebrow. "Remind me," he murmured. "Never to get poisoned again."

The worry melted away from Strider's face and he chuckled. "I will try," he said softly. He turned around and took an earthen cup of something from the side of the fire. He held it out to Las. "Drink this. I promise it won't put you to sleep."

"Is that a real promise?" murmured Las. "Or a healer's promise? The two are…quite different."

"A real promise," said Strider. "Drink it."

Las took the cup, but as he grasped it his hand trembled and he nearly dropped it. Strider wrapped his own hands around the elf's and helped him to drink. Las grimaced as the tea slipped down his throat, but at Strider's sigh he kept drinking until the cup was empty.

"How do you feel?"

Las smiled weakly. "I am…." He broke off abruptly and struggled to sit forwards, one hand clutching at his stomach. The other covered his mouth as he sat forwards, his shoulders jerking.

Strider caught him and leant Las into him as the elf struggled to keep the tea down, his hand clamped over his mouth. Strider rubbed his back as Las tried to hold back the retches, until eventually the elf collapsed limply against him and was still.

Strider eased him back slightly, still holding him up with both hands. "Do not say you are fine."

Las smiled weakly, taking his hand away from his mouth. "Hannon le," he murmured.

"I was going to get you to eat," said Strider softly. "But I think that would not be a good idea. You need to sleep, mellon-nin. We will return to Minas Tirith tomorrow, maybe."

Las nodded, and with Strider's help eased back so he was lying down again. He looked over at Henric and Alya, standing by the fire. "My thanks," he murmured.

"We do not need any," said Alya. "We would not have done anything different."

"Will you be alright?" piped up Cat, stepping forward from in front of Telan.

Las smiled weakly. "Aye," he said. "I will." His gaze drifted to Strider, who smiled, and Telan noticed yet again how the lines in the man's face seemed to disappear, and he became a different person from the grim man who had fought off the men. As for Las, he appeared young once more, his blond hair falling out around his face and making him look like, well, an elf.

Strider murmured something in the other tongue and Las nodded. His eyes drooped shut and in moments he was asleep. Strider watched him for a few minutes, his hand resting on Las' brow, before he turned away.

"So he will be alright?" asked Henric. "Las will be fine now?"

Strider nodded. "Aye. He will be," he said softly. "But I want to get back to Minas Tirith soon. He isn't healed yet."

"You can't leave!" blurted out Telan. The idea had been whirling in his head for some time, ever since he saw Strider fight the three men away, but he had not yet dared to say anything.

Strider frowned. "Why not?"

"Because I want you to teach me."

Henric growled under his breath. "Telan…"

"I've seen you can fight," said Telan to Strider, ignoring his father. "And you said you were a soldier of sorts. That's all I want to be. I want to go to Minas Tirith, I want to learn to fight, and be part of great battles. Please will you teach me?"

Strider shifted and sat forwards. "Telan…" he said hesitantly.

"Please!" cried Telan. "It's all I've ever wanted to be."

"It's not my decision whether or not you can learn," said Strider. "And being a soldier is not the only thing you can do. There are many other ways to live your life without seeing the kinds of things a soldier sees, even if the fighting is largely finished. A soldier is a tough life."

Telan shook his head stubbornly. "And I want that life. Will you not teach me?"

"I would be glad to teach you," said Strider. "if only for an afternoon. But it is not my choice to make. It is your father's."

Telan turned to Henric. "Please, Da, please can Strider teach me how to use a sword? I promise to be careful."

Henric growled under his breath. "I don't like the idea, son," he said eventually. "I don't want to see you learn how to fight. I won't let you be a soldier."

Telan opened his mouth to protest, but Henric stopped him with a wave of his hand. "I don't like it," he said. "But one day of learning with wooden sticks cannot harm. The better you can defend yourself and the family, the better for all of us. That is, if Strider is willing."

Strider nodded. "I am," he replied. "Tomorrow, maybe, if we may stay another night." His eyes fell back on the elf lying motionless in the bed, and he gently touched his forehead to make sure there was no heat. Strider nodded, satisfied. "And then we will be on our way."

Telan grinned. "Thank you Da!" he cried. "And thank you Strider. A lot."

Alya sighed. "Men and their fighting!" she cried. "All you seem to do is poke holes in each other."

"To be fair," said Henric. "Most of the men I 'poked holes' in were trying to 'poke holes' in me first."

Strider chuckled slightly. "There will be no hole poking Telan," he said. "Not if you want to learn properly. We will fight with wooden sticks."

"Not real swords?" asked Telan.

"You wouldn't be able to lift one to swing it," replied Strider. "I would be nervous of you injuring yourself or me. Besides, I only have one sword, and you cannot touch that one."

Telan nodded, but his face was slightly glum, at least until Strider smiled. "Did you know I spent the first twelve years of my life learning with wooden swords?" he asked. "In Minas Tirith, the younger boys we take for training don't get a sword until they are sixteen."

Telan looked up. "There are boys training in Minas Tirith?"

Henric sighed, and Strider grimaced guiltily. "My apologies," he said to Henric. "I did not mean to mention it."

"Mention what?" asked Telan.

"Never you mind," growled Henric. "Strider, do you know what happened to Las?"

Strider smiled slightly at the change in conversation. He shook his head. "I don't," he said softly. "Las' horse returned to Minas Tirith a week or so ago, and at the same time a Gondor patrol brought in his weapons, found on the ground, covered in blood and mud. I rode out immediately with some others, and tried tracking any prints from where the weapons were found. They led me to this area, but the rain washed everything away, so I resorted to knocking on doors." He sighed. "I was growing desperate, until I overheard those men in the inn in town. But beyond that I do not know what happened to him."

"Why didn't you ask him when he woke up?" asked Telan. His voice was slightly too loud and Las shifted in the bed. Strider turned around and placed a hand on his brow, and the elf stilled again. Telan winced. "Sorry," he muttered. "But why didn't you ask? Aren't you curious?"

"I am," said Strider. "I am very curious. I don't know what happened to him at all. But if he doesn't want to tell me, I am not going to ask. Las will tell me when he wants to, and not before."

"But what if it is something bad?" asked Telan, confused. "Don't you want to know?"

"It does not matter whether I want to know or not," said Strider, his voice slightly stern as he spoke to Telan. "I know Las well enough to know that he will tell me, if not right away. Something obviously happened to him, but I will not press it when he has just woken up, in an unfamiliar place, still recovering from orc poison."

"So when will you find out?"

"When I find out," said Strider simply. He looked up as Alya pressed a plate of supper into his hands. "My thanks."

Telan wasn't really satisfied, but he took his supper from his mother and ate, balancing Cat on his lap as he sat against the wall. Strider ate quickly, with one eye on Las at all times, just in case. As soon as he finished he glanced over at Telan.

"We shall do some sword fighting tomorrow," he said quietly. "If Las is alright. Which means that you should get as much sleep as possible."

Telan nodded eagerly and jumped to his feet. "Alright, Strider," he said, already disappearing into the other room. Strider smiled slightly as he shut the door.

"He does not truly understand," he muttered. "But," he said, turning to Henric. "I think you do. You understand why I will not ask Las, not yet."

Henric nodded. "Sometimes the worst ghosts aren't found in cities or on battlefields."

To Be Continued...

As always, reviews are very welcome. Next chapter will be up on Sunday.