Chapter 14: Nine Companions (Legolas & Co)

(~***~)

The Lady Amity pulled Lossrilleth into the pavilion enthusiastically. "You had a scare, did you?" the young woman asked. "One of those rowdy drunkards outside no doubt. I heard the whipping – nasty! Are you alright?"

Lossrilleth nodded, her amusement at her chipper companion easing up a little of her tension. "He touch me. My husband stop," she tried to explain.

"Ooh, how frightening, and how valiant!" the young woman trilled, putting her little hands on her freckled face. To Lossrilleth she looked so young, although at nineteen she had actually married late for this age. The elf felt her mothering instincts kick in even as the girl began acting the hostess, showing the taller lady around the small space to one of several beds. A brazier sat at the center of the tent. A few metal lanterns with candles in them created shapes of light against the tent walls that matched the patterns in the metal.

"Well, I'm glad you're here now. It's safer in here and I always like having another lady. It's like I'm with my sisters at home again!" the girl was speaking with enthusiasm, but Lossrilleth thought she looked a little sad talking about her sisters. Amity patted the bed, gesturing that Lossrilleth should sit down. The girl offered her a small washing bowl and a cloth to clean her face and hands. The elf did as she was shown, feeling amused at the endearing little thing buzzing about her.

"Here, let me help you get ready for bed, I used to do that with my sisters, too," the girl said, removing Lossrilleth's headscarf before the elf realized what she was doing. The elf's long, snowy tresses tumbled down in waves. Lossrilleth took in a sharp breath as she felt the cool air on her exposed ear tips.

"Oooooh, your hair is so pretty! Has it always been white? It smells good!" the girl crooned. "And look at your ears!"

Lossrilleth felt her heart pounding. Trying to appeal to the girl's sense of compassion to overcome any suspicion, she covered her ears with her hands, feigning insecurity, and said, "Not look – strange. Ugly."

"Oh no, no they're… cute," the young woman reassured her. (She thought they looked weird, but she wouldn't say so.) Teasingly, she added, "Your husband can pretend you're an elf maiden of old. Ha! Can you believe people think those old stories are true?" the girl scoffed. "More like an excuse for our poor crafting and laziness. Easier to say our goods aren't as artful as the relics because 'elves made them' than to admit we're not as good as the ancients. Right?"

Lossrilleth was swimming in the girl's fast speech, but she understood the important thing: Lady Amity didn't believe elves were real. Lossrilleth let out a noncommittal snort in reply, feeling relieved. The abbess had been right – people now doubted that elves had ever existed. It would be good cover for them.

It felt strange to have the young woman gently combing her hair after hundreds of years among the elves, where the only people she ever touched this intimately had been her husband and child. Letting herself remember what it was like to be dependent on the comforts of the body without the fёa sense elves had, Lossrilleth allowed herself to enjoy the sensation. The young woman was trying to help her feel better in the best way she knew how. She appreciated it. Amity helped her unlace her overdress and untie her belt, leaving the two ladies in their shifts, each lounging on her respective bed.

"So, quiet one," Amity teased, resting on her stomach with her chin in her hands, "Tell me about your husband! I've only been a wife for a few months. We've been on the road taking the King's census for all of it except my wedding night." The girl rolled her eyes. "How did you meet him? Have you been married long? Which one was he, is he handsome?"

Lossrilleth chuckled at the young woman. This was all adorable – like a sleepover with a girlfriend when she was a child long ago. She made sure to let Legolas feel how comfortable she was getting, hoping to help him relax some of the tension and self-recrimination that she felt storming through his heart.

"We are married long, yes," she replied. "He meet me… I have… I not know word. I fall in ocean, he help me."

"Ooooh, was there an accident? Or a battle? Did you almost drown? Oh my, he saved you, didn't he? That is so romantic." Amity babbled while Lossrilleth let out a giggle, thoroughly enjoying her youthfulness.

"How did you meet your husband?" Lossrilleth asked in return, trying to pick up grammar from the girl while she was it.

"Oh well, that's easy," Amity replied. "We are both from lesser noble houses. His family travels with the King's household when it tours the lands. They've stayed in our house several times since I was a child. We were only friends at first – when he was a boy he would tease me like a little sister. But when they came back we were older and… we liked each other," Amity admitted shyly, blushing.

"We were lucky. Our families and our positions were not a problem, so it was easy enough to arrange a love match. But he's in the King's service, so now I'm the wife of a noble servant and we both must do our duties." She sighed dramatically. "I can't wait to get to Minas Tirith and be done with the road. Then we'll live in the palace and be part of the King's court! Even if we have no titles or anything…"

Lossrilleth was smiling broadly at the girl, mimicking her posture so they faced each other from the feet of their small beds. "Good story," the elf said. "Enjoy journey. Palace … other problems there. Here is good – no one watch. No… talking."

"You mean gossip? Talking about people and judging?" Amity asked and Lossrilleth nodded. "Oh, you're probably right about that," the girl said, looking thoughtful.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're here! I could talk to you all night fair stranger! What's your name, anyway?" the young woman asked, realizing she'd been so enthusiastic she hadn't even thought of that.

"I am Elsё, from North. We trade horses," she explained.

"Elsё the Northwoman… you're so pretty, though, to be married to a horse merchant! You could have married a prince…" Amity chattered. Lossrilleth smiled to herself, for she had in fact married a prince.

"Horse trade good gold in North," she said, hoping she could circulate an understanding that they were not peasants, but respectable merchants. The elf and the girl talked for a while longer before the young lady showed signs of being sleepy. Lossrilleth offered her hand to the girl and squeezed it.

"Thank you, Lady Amity. My friend," she said. At their touch she could feel something she had not noticed before, and that she doubted the girl even knew herself yet: Amity was pregnant. "Now sleep."

The young woman drifted off. Lossrilleth lay on her cot next to the silk wall. She could feel Legolas close by. He had figured out where she was and positioned himself near her. Lossrilleth pressed her hand against the silk, reaching out for him. He pressed his hand against hers from outside and sent her his regret for what had happened earlier. She sent him her love and reassurance, for she did not blame him at all.

Then she heard Thranduil approach and reveal the amazing news about the rich man who had helped them – a descendant of Faramir and Eowyn! As Thranduil announced his presence, Lossrilleth settled in to rest in twilight sleep, knife under her pillow as her father-in-law had told her.

(~***~)

Legolas walked away from the pavilion where his wife rested a little reluctantly, though he knew Lossrilleth was safely guarded by his father. He had settled down as he listened to her speak with the very young lady inside, sharing in her enjoyment of the sweet interaction. But he wished he could be closer to her.

He recalled the pain he had had when facing mortal death for the first time as he traveled with the nine walkers. When Mithrandir had fallen to the Balrog, and then Boromir had been killed, the elf had started looking at the companions he was growing to care for differently, feeling more fear on their behalf with each danger they faced. They could defend themselves, but unlike the elves, they did not get second chances if they died. What he felt now was not so different what felt then, he thought.

He fervently wished he had begun training Lossrilleth in the use of arms as soon as they had been married. She could have had more than a century of practice by now, instead of a few months' worth. He thought he might not feel so vulnerable if she were able to help herself more. The sight of that man with his hands on his wife… the vision of Angharad floating helplessly into the Straight Road… his heart ached. Legolas tried to clear his head as he approached the men his father had agreed to set up camp with. The best thing he could do was to keep moving so they could finish this as quickly as possible.

"Ah greetings! Master Leif, was it?" Farren called out to Legolas as he joined the men. Farren gestured to one of his men to fetch an ale for the Northman. Legolas only nodded an acknowledgement as he sat among them.

"Is your wife well?" Farren asked politely, handing a strong ale to Legolas.

"Yes, well. She like Lady Amity, thank you," Legolas managed.

Farren chuckled, noticing this man's Westron was a bit weaker than the others. "Who does not like my Lady Amity? She is cheer itself," he said fondly, a smile passing over his face as he thought of his new wife. Legolas found it touching. It reminded him of how gentle Faramir had been with Eowyn while she was recovering from the Battle of Pellenor Fields, eventually managing to coax her out of her shell shock and grief. The man did not look like his great ancestor at all, but another kind of resemblance was there.

Farren was a little uncomfortable under the pale gaze of the Northman, although he had returned his smile.

"To our ladies, may they ever raise our spirits, and may we ever keep them from harm," he said, raising his glass in an attempt to break the silence. Legolas raised his glass in answer and drank with the men.

"Your brother and I were having an interesting conversation about the old stories. You know them too, I take it?" the man asked.

"Yes," Legolas agreed. "I know Faramir, Eowyn – your ancestor?"

The man nodded, "Indeed they are. I'm not sure such great people walk the earth anymore as Faramir, the shieldmaiden, and King Elessar. But we may strive to follow their example." Farren raised his glass and drank again, draining it and putting it aside. He was done for the night. He would need to sleep soon and had the third watch to look forward to in the wee hours before dawn.

Legolas's heart twisted painfully as he remembered his long-passed friends. He had loved Aragorn especially. Memories of his noble face passed through is mind unbidden. He decided to change the subject.

"You go Minas Tirith?" the elf asked the man. "We go there. We buy horse. We look for man, name Masterson."

"Masterson, hmm?" Farren said thoughtfully. "I'm helping the King with the census he's taking. If we're in Minas Tirith together, I could see if I can help you find this man on the census rolls. Your brother told you you're welcome to travel with us, yes?"

Legolas nodded, answering, "Yes, he told. Thank you. We ask Elsё in morning. Maybe good." Legolas let out a sigh, allowing the men to hear his frustration. "Westron is not good … with me. She read, I hunt." Legolas shrugged and gestured towards his bow among his things, trying to look careless and human.

Farren and his men laughed at that. This fair man was a little awkward, but they liked him. "Well said, friend. It must be difficult to be in a strange land finding your way. Your brother told us that your wife gets too much unwanted attention. You need a bigger party to keep her safe and still have time to rest. And my lady is young and needs a friend – months on the road with me and my hired men isn't what she wanted when she convinced her parents to let us marry. Our route will bring you to many market towns where you can find fine animals. I hope you decide to join us," the man said, rising to go relieve himself. "Take your rest, Northman. The night is still long and your brother will need a turn at sleep himself."

Legolas nodded and lay on his bedroll, allowing himself to drift into reverie. This man was good – he was willing to rest near him and his guards. In the late watches of the night he woke, having had as much rest as an elf needed. He switched with Thranduil to give him his chance.

"I say we go with them," Legolas whispered to his father. He pressed a hand against the silk wall of the pavilion and felt Lossrilleth return his touch. "My lady, they offer us greater protection in numbers. I think the man is true. He is a servant of the King – he may help us find Masterson in Minas Tirith when we arrive. He will also know the land well. He would want you to keep his wife company, are you willing?"

"Yes, that is well with me," Lossrilleth whispered back to them. "The lady is very young and she is newly pregnant. She could use better minding than these men can give her. If I can help someone along our way, all the better."

Thranduil returned to their new companions to rest. In the morning, they would share their decision and set out together.

(***)

The Lady Amity was delighted when she learned that Elsё and her companions would be traveling with them. Her joy caused a chain reaction – Farren tickled by her happiness, and the elves touched by both humans' sincerity.

As the men packed up to move on to the next town, Legolas brought the gray horse to Lossrilleth to set up their improvised saddle. He stole a touch when he handed the reins over, making her smile.

"Oooooh, is that your husband?" Amity asked in a 'whisper' loud enough that even the hired men could hear it. "No wonder you married a merchant if he looks like that. He's as pretty as you are!"

Lossrilleth didn't even try to hide her laughter from the younger lady. "Yes, it is he," she said with mirth. "Lady Amity, maybe you learn talk quiet before court?" Amity scoffed, but as Legolas returned with a smirk on his face she blushed, realizing he really had heard her. From her perch behind Legolas, Lossrilleth caught Amity's eye and gestured with her chin towards Farren, who was bringing the lady's horse.

"Dear wife, may I help you mount?" the gentleman asked valiantly. Amity blushed as he took her hand and kissed it, then helped her into her side saddle. Lossrilleth gave the girl a wink, causing Amity to wrinkle her nose in embarrassment.

"Do you usually ride like that?" the precocious young woman asked, looking at their bare blanket. "It looks uncomfortable."

"We need buy lady saddle," Lossrilleth explained, to which the girl nodded. "Not bad, though," she fake-whispered back at Amity as she snaked her arms around Legolas's waist for balance, resting her cheek against his back. He put a hand on hers and smiled over his shoulder at her, enjoying her touch and the young woman's resulting giggle as much as his wife did.

Even Thranduil let out a small chuckle as he watched Lossrilleth draw out the young woman. Youthfulness was endearing across boundaries of race. Thranduil touched the pouch he kept close to his skin with Angharad's pebble and acorn – he could only pray that they would find his beloved granddaughter before the same innocent energy was gone from her. Lossrilleth saw him touch the object and caught his eye, a wave of sadness passing over her face.

To Farren, Thranduil said, "Your Lady Amity is… happy woman.'" Farren beamed at the respectful appreciation, feeling glad that the strange Northmen had decided to take him up on his impulsive offer to travel together.

At the next market town, the company split up – the elves going to look at horses, while Farren and his men worked through the town, counting households. Amity begged to come with Elsё, with the excuse that she could help select a side saddle. Farren finally agreed, sending one of his guards along with them. While the elves listened in the marketplace, they still heard no hints about what had happened to Angharad. Her presence in her parents' fёa sense remained small and vague.

In the evening, they met again and began traveling to the way station. Farren and his men asked politely after their business, admiring the animals that now followed along in a string, on excellent behavior for the concealed elves. Lossrilleth rode on her dappled gray on a new side saddle, which she did not like but tried to accept with grace.

Farren approached Legolas on his horse, holding out a small parcel to him. "Master Leif, these are for you," he said. Legolas looked in the package to find a copy of the teaching poem The Fool's Journey and an official looking piece of paper.

"Hunting license…?" Legolas read off the paper before passing it to his father to inspect.

"Indeed – with it you can hunt on the King's land. I imagine that bow you carry could be put to good use."

Once again, Thranduil was impressed with the King's infrastructure in this large and populous kingdom. He may have his troubles, but his lands were well-organized.

Lossrilleth was not sure if they should offer to pay for the favor. It could certainly be useful to have some cover for the hunting they had already been doing without any sort of permission.

"Thank you," she said. "How much cost? We can pay..."

Farren smiled and waved a hand in casual dismissal, "Give us no money, friends. I'm the King's servant, let's not waste the few privileges my weary task affords me. I ask only that you relieve us of eating the way station slop every night, Master Leif. Some fresh venison or hare would do a body good."

Legolas bowed politely from his saddle, saying "Thank you. I hunt for all - good." Lossrilleth could tell he felt pleased, which warmed her heart.

"And now you can catch up with your wife," Farren joked to him, gesturing to the small book. "She has already studied this tale so well she can quote it from memory!"

"Good story," Lossrilleth commented, agreeing.

At the gate to the way station, the elves learned that traveling with the King's servant carried other privileges as well – they were only charged for their horses' feed, while their own entry was free. This was swiftly proving to be a most beneficial alliance.

As the group delivered the horses to their feed stalls and got ready to farewell the ladies into their pavilion, the man who had been whipped at the last station approached them, looking furious. A group of men watched him pass, gathering to watch the spectacle.

"I see you're still here with your whore, idiot Northman," he taunted. "Or do you call her a lady now that she stays in the pavilion?"

"How dare you, peasant?" Farren cried out in indignation.

"Stay out of this you mincing toff, this is between working men," the man sneered at Farren. "I'll make you pay for those stripes, foreigner, or are you too coward to fight me?"

The man lunged at Legolas, slapping him with his backhand across the face. Surprised, the elf took a step back, assessing the situation before reacting. The man stalked off to a bare patch of ground across the yard and began stripping down for a fight, letting everyone see the ugly gashes on his back.

"Oh, my friend," Farren said dangerously, leaning in towards Legolas. "You could kill him now if you wished to and suffer no punishment. That was an evil insult."

Lossrilleth started to move to Legolas, but Thranduil stopped her, nodding at his son that he would take care of her.

The head of the King's guard approached Legolas. "Do you accept the duel? Do you know the King's rules for such challenges?"

"I do not know rules," Legolas admitted. "Explain. I go."