Just a Friend- Chapter 13
Finally finished my exams! Did my last one today, and I am freeeee! It feels so good. Plenty more time to write fanfics now :)
To all those who asked about the family finding out who Las and Strider really are in reviews, my reply, that not all the family will find out, is actually wrong. With so many people asking me, I wrote a second part to the epilogue. But that is all I will say for now!
Disclaimer: see Chapter 1
"I don't get it."
Las looked over at Telan, one eyebrow raised. "What do you not get?"
Telan looked up. He was sitting, knees to his chest, in front of the fire. Las was on the bed, leant back against the wall. He watched Telan carefully.
Telan sighed. "Why…" he said softly. "I don't understand why. I just…I don't get why."
Las nodded. "I think I understand. You don't get why the man was…like the way he was. Am I right?"
Telan nodded. "Aye," he murmured. "Why did he hate you?"
"I don't think he hated me," said Las calmly. "He has never met me before. I think he hates elves." He shrugged. "My race is dwindling on these shores. Before the War, before there was a Queen in Gondor, elves were almost tales to some people, legends. Some people found it easier to blame things on those they don't understand, rather than accept the harsh truth."
"How can you be so calm about this?" asked Telan, his voice rising. "It's not…It isn't…"
"Right?" asked Las softly.
Telan sighed, his shoulders slumping. "Aye," he murmured. "This isn't how it should be. This isn't how it always ends in the tales, is it?"
Las shook his head. "It is not," he said. "But then the tales…they aren't wrong, but they miss things out. All the stories do. Telan, most people won't die heroic deaths. Most people won't be remembered. Most of the stories, they miss the fact that war is bloody, and messy, and even if you win you have lost, in a way. Nobody really wins in a war. To believe otherwise is folly."
"But it shouldn't be that way!" exclaimed Telan. "It shouldn't be like that. Don't the people who fight deserve to win? Don't those in the stories deserve a life afterwards? They should be able to live happily after it is all over. They should be able to win. They deserve it, don't they?"
"They do," said Las, and his voice sounded so weary and so old to Telan, that he glanced up to check that the elf hadn't suddenly aged. Las sighed again. "Ai Valar, they do deserve it. We all do." He looked down at Telan. "For me, the war was being fought long before the final battles, seven years ago. In my home, we had been…" He trailed off, his eyes staring into the distance. "I lost a lot, Telan. And I know others who have lost even more. And I can say wholeheartedly that those I have seen, who have lost almost everything, deserve a happy ending."
"Then…" Telan trailed off, not sure what to say. "Why…Why do so many people have to die? Most of them never did anything wrong!"
Las shook his head. "So many people who didn't deserve to die end up dead," he said. "So many people who should have died stay alive. The world doesn't work like that Telan. It just doesn't."
"But it should!" exclaimed Telan.
"I know," said Las wearily. "And I am so very sorry, Telan, but it doesn't. The world doesn't play fair, as it were. It doesn't care whether or not you live."
"Then surely we should take it into our own hands?"
"And what then?" asked Las sharply. "What would we do with it? Should that man be killed because he tried to harm others? Is that the way it works?"
"I…I don't know," said Telan, hanging his head.
Las sighed. "Neither do I," he murmured.
"Then how do you do it?"
"Do what?" asked Las, his gaze falling on Telan again.
"Just…" Telan shrugged. "Strider said you were a soldier for hundreds of years, that you have been fighting for far longer than he has. How did you keep going, all those years?"
Las frowned slightly. "I never really knew," he murmured. "I only knew that people were depending on me. Do not misread my words, Telan. The world doesn't play fair, but that does not mean we can give up, and throw our weapons down like a child, disgraced at how it is. Time and time again, I had to pick myself up off the bloody floor and tell myself that I have to keep going, because it was the only way, the only thing I could do, to try and make things slightly better. The only way to make the world a little bit fairer."
"But…" Telan frowned. "Weren't you afraid of dying?"
"I was," said Las calmly. "And I came close a few times. But if you die, you die, and there is nothing anyone can do about that. I am sorry, Telan, because you want answers, and these answers are not the ones you are looking for." Las leant forwards, his bright gaze falling on Telan.
"The world is not fair. But it is not cruel, either. It is simply the world we live in." Las smiled slightly. "But there are things worth fighting for in this world. Sometimes it is best to ignore the bigger picture, forget that you are not important to the world. Pick something you love, and defend it with all that you have."
Las paused slightly, his hand going to his neck, where the man had tried to choke him. "Even if you know you are going to fail, you can try anyway. And who knows? Maybe you will even win. Just because the world isn't fair, doesn't mean you have to give up on it."
0-o-0-o-0
The door to the cottage creaked open, and Telan looked up to see Strider and his father walk in. Strider's gaze flickered to the bed where Las was.
"He fell asleep a while ago," said Alya, who was hanging clothes up above the fire. "He still seems pretty tired."
Strider crouched down quietly beside Las, who was slumped on his side, his eyes half open. He gently touched the elf's forehead, and seemingly happy with what he found, turned back to Henric.
"I am sorry," he said softly. "I am sorry for bringing this on you and your family. I never meant to."
"I know," said Henric sadly. "You only wanted to save your friend. I cannot fault you on that. You are not the person who is to blame for those men in the town."
Telan stirred. "What happened to the man, Da?" he asked quietly. "What did you do with him?"
"I had words with those in charge in the town," said Strider. "They are holding the man, until we send soldiers from Minas Tirith."
"Does that mean you are leaving?" asked Telan softly. He didn't want Strider to go.
"Aye, my horse is outside," said Strider. "I brought him back from the town. I want to get Las back to the city soon, and then I will send soldiers back to fetch the man, and search for the others. I promise."
"Will you ever come back?" asked Telan. The words slipped from his mouth, and they sounded childish and pleading to his ears.
Strider smiled, and reached over to gently shake Las' shoulder to wake him up. "I don't know, Telan," he said. "Probably not."
Las grimaced and rolled over, smiling slightly as he saw Strider's worried face. "Are you…alright?" he rasped.
Strider raised one eyebrow. "I should be asking you that question, mellon-nin," he said, tilting Las' head back to look at the slight bruising around his throat. "How do you feel."
"I am fine," said Las, pushing Strider's hand away. Strider simply looked at him, and the elf sighed. "Throat hurts…" he said. "But nothing different from past times."
Strider nodded. "Hasufel is outside," he said. "We'll head back now."
Las nodded, and stood up, swaying ever so slightly. "I am sorry," he said to Henric and Alya as he swung the dark green cloak that Strider had handed him over his shoulders. "I am sorry for the past few days." He reached down and picked up his weapons.
Cat peeped out from underneath the table. "Are you magic?" she suddenly asked.
"Cat!" exclaimed Telan. "This is not the time."
"But they are leaving soon," said Cat with a pout. "I won't get another chance to ask."
Las laughed ever so slightly, the sound hoarse in his throat. "I am not, penneth," he said softly. "I have no magic. I am simply an elf." He looked over at Henric.
"Again, I am sorry," he said. "But I thank you, all of you," his gaze falling on Alya and Telan. "I am in your debt."
Strider moved over to the door and held it open. "We should go," he said to Las. "We must return to Minas Tirith."
Las nodded, and he went outside with Strider to the horse waiting there. Las smiled and held out his hand, and Telan watched with faint amazement as the horse first sniffed his hand, and then butted his head happily against the elf, as if in greetings. Las laughed slightly and the horse nickered, pushing into the elf's chest with his nose. He hung his quiver, knives and bow on the saddle carefully.
Strider smiled, and Telan saw how when he smiled it was as if he was a different person, the worried lines falling away from around his eyes. He took the horse's bridle, and then had a swift and muttered conversation in the Grey Tongue with Las that resulted in a grimace from the elf, and Strider helping to boost him up into the saddle.
Las swayed slightly as he settled in the saddle, his face pale. Instantly Strider put his foot in the stirrup and sprang into the saddle, sitting behind the elf and steadying him. The horse shifted underneath him.
"Easy, Hasufel," murmured Strider, gathering up the reins. Telan looked over the horse. He was a real horse, a real soldier's horse, built for charging into battle, not parading through streets.
"Where did you get him?" he asked, almost in amazement as he watched Hasufel snort and paw at the ground. The horse's body seemed tensed, like an arrow ready to fly.
Strider smiled. "He is a warhorse of Rohan," he replied. "He was my horse throughout the war." Hasufel shifted again, and Strider touched on the reins. Las, leant back against Strider, put out a hand and gently touched Hasufel's neck. The horse stilled immediately.
"My thanks, again," said Strider to Henric and Alya. "I am sorry."
"Don't be," said Alya. "We were glad to help."
Strider nodded. "Keep practising your sword work, Telan," he said.
"Who with?" asked Telan, his voice a little disappointed as he looked up at Strider.
Strider's gaze flickered to Henric. "Your lad is brave," he said to Henric. "And he is a fair swordsman, for an afternoon of practise. If he keeps practising, he could be good. Very good."
Henric nodded. "Alright then, Telan," he said. "We will practise." He nodded at Strider. "I should thank you as well," he said. "For dealing with those men."
Strider shook his head. "I will send soldiers from Minas Tirith as soon as we get back," he said. Hasufel snorted and shifted impatiently again, and Strider turned him around with a light touch on the reins. Las looked back over his shoulder.
"My thanks," he said. Strider touched his heels to Hasufel and the horse moved off, picking up speed until he was cantering down the track, away from the house and the family that stood outside.
Telan watched Hasufel canter away until he could no longer make out the man and elf sitting together on his back. Even then he watched, until the horse disappeared. He sighed, and turned to go back inside.
To Be Continued...
Well, is it all over now? There are three more chapters, so maybe not...
Next chapter will be up some time on Wednesday. I am not sure when, because that is the day of my prom.