A stream of Edhel spilled out behind Mereneth, forming a defensive semi-circle. Despite the groups matching aprons and plain grey attire, they looked as formidable as Glorfindel had in his grand armour. Leda swallowed thickly, spying their swords that never wavered as they pointed towards her.
"What," Mereneth repeated in a hiss. "Did. You. Do?"
The adrenaline that had set her nerve endings on fire since the Giant was beginning to wane and she felt a little untethered. Whether that was the swords being pointed towards her, or her entire belief system being blown up in her face, she didn't know, but it was almost comical the way her words seemed to fail her so spectacularly as she tried to reply.
"I- Well we- Giant...?" She spluttered.
Mereneth's gaze, already so pinched, lowered to settle on the blade in her hand. Leda blanched in response, fingers suddenly sweaty as she tried to hold it out in a show of peace. She must have moved too quickly, though, because the other Edhel's hands tightened on the hilts of their swords.
"Glorfindel told me to find you. He gave me the knife." Leda said in a rush, acutely aware that they were well within their rights to – what was it Lindir had called it? - 'Dispatch' her if they chose to. She'd very much like not to be dispatched for as long as she could.
Merenth's lip curled. "Laurefindil gave you this?" She asked, suspicious.
Leda nodded recognising Glorfindel's second name and seeing some way to claw herself out of this hole.
Mereneth's gaze rose, and stared for so long and so hard that Leda was half convinced she was going to be put to death. But then her stance straightened, and she lowered her sword. She muttered a curt command in a language Leda had never heard before.
At once, the others lowered their swords and filed back through the doorway, as if a moment before they hadn't been ready to chuck her off the ledge behind her.
A crack of lightening made Leda jump, almost making her drop the knife, and breaking the tension in the air. She expected Mereneth to tell her to wait in the smashed to pieces hallways, but instead she surprised her.
"Come." She ordered.
Leda wasn't going to question it, and stumbled over loose rocks to the door. She turned before slipping into the Halls to see the sky a ugly mess of grey storm clouds. The rain had started in earnest now, falling hard enough to wet parts of the debris-filled tunnel too. The mountain where the giant had been snoozing looked as if it had been gouged out, a deep pit eft in the rock. She gulped.
Just what had she done?
. . .
Mereneth led her deeper into the Halls than she had ever been, ignoring Leda's confused questions of "Where are we going? Don't you want me to mix more paste?" when they passed the entrance to Elrond's lab.
At the back of the large cavern, past the last curtained room was a large pond, surrounded by stone benches that had been carved from the same sandy rock.
Along the back wall were a series of dark doorways and Mereneth lead her into the second one, and into a short dark hallway ending in a large, dimly lit room bustling with working Edhel. They quieted at their entrance, many bowing to Mereneth as she led a nervous Leda to the back of the room. Leda could feel all their strange cat-like eyes following her as she walked.
A long wooden table ran along the length of the right wall, metal basins spaced evenly across its surface. Above, metal spouts descended from the ceiling above each basin, with wooden ropes that the Edhel pulled to release boiling hot water that made the air thick and condensed. They poured a white powder into the filled basins and dumped metal utensils into the mixture, using wooden spoons or sometimes their hands, to submerge them in the water.
It looked a hell of a lot like-
"Sterilisation." Mereneth supplied as she stopped by a single table along the back wall. There was no spout above it, but there was a large bucket filled with still steaming utensils, empty smaller bowls and a stack of dry grey towels.
Mereneth produced a folded grey fabric and threw it at her. Watching unimpressed as Leda struggled to catch and unfurl it with only her free hand, Glorfindel's blade still clutched uncomfortably in her other hand.
"What is this?" She asked, dumbly as she shook the fabric out to reveal a replica of Mereneth's own apron, the same as the other healers wore. Leda's heart skipped, did it mean what she thought it meaned?
Mereneth, as usual, declined to answer.
"Dry what they give you." She instead instructed as Leda hastily slipped the apron over her head, awkwardly tying it lopsidedly at her waist using her elbow. "Separate by utensil into the bowls."
She nodded quickly. It wasn't a compound fracture, or laceration repair or resus, but it was something.
"Was there something else?" Leda asked nervously when the Edhel didn't move.
Mereneth sniffed, and then ducked forward like a snake, plucking the blade from her hand. For a mad second Leda thought the Edhel was going to slice her neck with it.
"Mereneth wait! What are you-"
But instead of murdering her, the Edhel surprised her again by dipping, and tucking the blade into the mess of string Leda had made to tie the apron securely around her. The tips of her long three fingers lingered at the blade's handle before reluctantly pulling away.
Leda shifted uncomfortably. She didn't want anything to do with it, and now it was attached to her. "Mereneth, I'm not sure that I should keep th-"
"Enough." Mereneth barked, bringing the eyes of some of the closest Edhel. Whatever softness had overcome her a second ago was gone. "Why have you not begun? Shall I repeat the instructions to you, this time slowly?"
The sting of the barb made her cheeks flame.
"No." She ground out, nostrils flaring. "I understood."
Mereneth harrumphed, giving the knife at Leda's waist one last strange look before she left.
Now alone for the first time in hours, Leda found her chest tightening. The sounds of the Edhel around her quietened as she thought, with some panic, what did she just do? What if it didn't work? What if she made things worse? What about the evacuees? What if waking the Giant hurt their escape? What if everyone still di-
"Well met, Miss Ackerman."
Startled, Leda spun on the spot, thoughts tumbling out of her head. She was thankful for the distraction, she didn't have the mental capacity nor the strength to keep up her self-interrogation.
An Edhel stood before her. They looked to be slightly younger than Lindir, but for all Leda knew they could be a thousand years old. They held a wood bowl filled to the brim with damp utensils, their hands dripping with water.
Leda faltered at the new greeting. "Ah-Well met? I'm Leda."
When they didn't answer, Leda swallowed and awkwardly took the bowl from them, puffing when she dipped with its weight.
Package delivered they tapped a hand to their chest and flitted off, leaving Leda to use her thigh as a brace to shove the heavy bowl onto the table.
Well, she thought, picking up the first towel. She might have woken a Giant and sent it off to wreak havoc in a way she couldn't conceive, but at least one thing hadn't changed: Edhel were, despite war being on their literal doorstep, still fucking weird.
. . .
Each bowl of utensils she dried and separated being taken and replaced by new bowls filled with things needing to be dried. Hours passed quickly. There were no windows in the room, so it was impossible to say how late it was. Gildor and Lindir had left her in the morning and she surmised they had woken the Giant at around midday. She guessed it was well into the night from the tired burn in her eyes, but when Mereneth came to get her, she was still reluctant to leave.
"I could do another task for you." Leda tried, feet like cement blocks dragging her after Mereneth who was leading her out of the room, back through the dark hallway and into the Halls.
"You will rest." Mereneth said without looking, leading them left, through another dark hallway that revealed another dim hallway and a short but steep staircase. At the top, another thin corridor. The left wall was solid rock, and into the right, five open doorways had been cut. Mereneth gestured a hand inside the third dark doorway.
"But I really think I can keep working." Leda stalled. She didn't want to not work, to be alone in a room with her thoughts to torture herself.
Mereneth narrowed her eyes. "You will rest."
"Mereneth." Leda's tone turned pleading but it had no effect on the immovable Edhel who only stared down at her past her long nose.
Leda sighed and slunk into the room like a child scolded. It was a small roughly carved room, not as polished as the other caves as if it had been done quickly and only out of necessity. There was no window, only a short table with a small candle that burned a dim orange, not the blues of the lamps outside. At the back was a slab of raised rock, topped with a thin mattress, firm looking pillow and a rolled blanket.
She didn't realise she was followed, until Mereneth's hand was on her shoulder, guiding her to the bed and pressing until Leda sat stiff and unsure on its lumpy surface. It wasn't as nice as her usual room. Which made her wonder if she'd ever step foot in it again. Did her old room even exist after the Giant's awakening smashed the valley to pieces?
Mereneth crouched, darting forward quickly again to untie the knife from untied the knife at her waist. She twisted it over in her hands, delicate fingers running over its hilt and blade softly.
"I really didn't want to take it." Leda said quietly, watching her. The way Mereneth held it, it was almost like it was…holy.
"Rarely do the gifts of Ondolindë change hands." Mereneth said mysteriously. Her voice was hollow and she offered no clarification as she set the knife down next to the candle. The flamelight refracted the blade, projecting a golden constellations across the walls.
"How much-" Leda's sentence broke apart under a yawn that threatened to unhinge her jaw. When she recovered, Mereneth looked slightly squeamish. "-longer do you think they'll be?"
Merenth's lips pused. "It could be hours, or minutes or days or weeks. It is outside of my ability to calculate." She tsk'd just like Gildor sometimes did, cutting off Leda before she could ask her next question. "Enough. You must rest. You need to be alert when they are back. I will not see you improperly handle and contaminate tools for the mere simple fact that Secondborn's require sleep each day."
At the mention of sleep, Leda felt all of the tiredness she'd been trying to ignore roll over her at once, and felt the fight leave her.
"Fair enough." She said around another jaw-splitting yawn.
Mereneth's nose wrinkled at the action, the vaguely sick look flickering across her face before she turned to leave.
"Mereneth?" Leda asked, stopping her in the shadowy doorway.
"What is it now?" She sighed.
Leda yawned again, feeling an uncomfortable pop in her jaw. That one might have done some damage. "Thank you."
There was no response, and when she blinked next Mereneth was gone. She thought for sure she'd never sleep, but as soon as she lay down, deep, dreamless sleep mercifully found her.
. . .
When Merenth burst into her room and woke her up, Leda had no idea how long she'd been asleep. Only that the candle was almost burned entirely down to the quick and it was long enough for Mereneth's apron to already be splattered with red, thick blood.
Her tongue was thick in her mouth from sleep. "Wha's wr-"
"They are coming back." Mereneth interrupted, breathless. Her eyes, so like a hawk's, were intense, pupils blown wide across her grey iris. It was startling to see. "There are many injured and there is not enough of us. You said you could help, and I am trusting you to do so."
Leda sat up quickly, shaking off the grogginess of sleep. Mereneth's eyes narrowed.
"Can I trust you?" She breathed.
Leda stood on sleep-heavy legs. If Mereneth was asking her for help, then she must have been desperate. And if she was desperate then it was bad.
If she was a spiteful person, Leda could have told her no. But she was trying her very not to be. So instead she nodded and when Mereneth again, tied Glorfindel's knife to her apron strings she didn't protest.
When they descended the steps into the main Healing antechamber, a rush of chaotic sounds greeted her. The Edhel, normally so quiet, were running, shouting, spilling liquids and dropping heavy armour. If Leda was anyone else, the sight might have overhwlemed her, but Leda wasn't like anyone else and for the first time since she'd dragged herself out of the Vortice and found herself in a warzone, she felt somewhere close to peace.
It was morbid and psychologically unhealthy, but the copper tang to the air and sharp, spicy scent of something minty calmed her completely. Her breaths slowed, her back straightened. There was a reason Leda chose emergency medicine as her specialism. Medical chaos was where she thrived.
More Edhel than she thought possible were all around, sporting various degrees of injury. Leda's fingers twitched for her long wished-for med pack but instead she followed Mereneth as best she could, back through another new doorway, squeezing past a line of injured Edhel waiting to enter.
This room was filled with individual tables and stools, with bowls of green paste, utensils and clean water. Each table had an accompanying Edhel who treated the wounded soldiers sat on the stools. Mereneth marched her to the back of the room, depositing her at the last free station against the backwall.
Leda's giddiness rose, making her grin. Finally, she was going to do something useful. Finally she was needed. And for once, she'd know what she was doing. There was no way she could mess this up.
"You were not chosen for your skill." Mereneth barked, effectively dumping a bowl of ice on her good mood. Leda grimaced, leave it to Mereneth to knock a gal back down to size. "You were chosen for there are many injured and a child could do these tasks. This room is for minor injuries. You must clean the wound, apply the salve, bandage, or suture and bandage. You are familiar with this rudimentary care, yes?"
Leda nodded, already leaning forward to wash her hands in the basin. A strong lemon scent wafted up from the water as she dried her hands. Mereneth appraised her, but if she was pleased with Leda sanitising her hands without asking, she didn't show it.
"Bayleth." Mereneth called. A brown-haired Edhel manning the station beside Leda's turned, hands never stopping as she spread a thick layer of green paste on a soldier's wound.
"Yes, Healer?" Her voice was deeper than Leda thought it would be, much the same as the deep bell-toll Belwen's had been.
"You will assist her should she require it." Mereneth ordered.
If Bayleth was annoyed that she'd essentially been ordered to babysit Leda, her blank face hid it well. Leda, however, was slightly miffed that she'd been demoted to the babysitee.
"Yes, Healer." Bayleth bowed to Mereneth and inclined her head in greeting to Leda before returning to her patient.
"I can do this." Leda's voice was firm.
Mereneth quirked a thick, black eyebrow. "You were foolhardy enough to wake a Giant. I should think you would be able to carry out these simple tasks."
Bayleth and a few other Edhel turned, those injured and those healing. Leda couldn't quite work out their expressions. She had no idea yet, if her actions had helped, or, if she had inadvertently caused the injuries around her. But as her first patient walked up, a woman, devoid of chest armour and clutching a wound with a red-stained hand, she steeled herself against the first set of nerves.
"I'm Doctor Ackerman." She greeted. The words, practiced and perfected, flowed from her mouth as they always had: with complete assurance in her abilities. Giants and Wizards be damned. She could do this. She could. "Let me have a look."
. . .
If Leda had to guess the time by the ache in her feet, she'd say that anywhere upwards of six hours had passed. The soft grey shoes the Edhel gave her to wear were expertly made and pretty, but they were nothing compared to her Skechers back home and their durability to being on your feet all day.
The tips of her fingers were beginning to feel numb from applying the salve all day. And her patients – many of whom sported 'minor' injuries that on a human may have induced unconsciousness or at the very least, horrendous screams of agony – were mostly pleasant. Though a few did hiss at her when she was too rough, or pulled too tightly on their stitches or bandages. A few looked at her… curiously. More curious than they usually did, that is. She'd mostly felt like a particularly interesting bug beneath their intense stares, now their lingering gazes held something else.
Her knees were burning from disuse, but she was loathe to admit defeat and ask for rest when she was finally (finally!) doing something that she knew she could.
As she tightened the bandage around her latest patient, her eyes scanned the room, looking for Lindir or Gildor or even Belwen. Just someone familiar – she'd even welcome Glorfindel's scowl, but no one she knew came into the minor injuries room. They could mean that they were perfectly fine, or at the back of the queue. Or it could mean something worse. Something she didn't even want to consider.
Leda's patient stood, pressed her hand to her chest and bent slightly at the waist. "You have my thanks." She said, before walking away, leaving Leda to nod after her, biting at her lip when again, none of her friends appeared.
"Are you well?" Bayleth's deep voice pulled her from the precipice of worry.
"Yes. I'm fine." She said quickly, smile wobbling around the edges as she tried and seemingly failed to reassure Bayleth who cocked her head. "Really. I'm ok. It's just-"
Her head snapped up at a commotion at the doorway, shouts cutting off her sentence. It was impossible, but for a second, terror gripped her as she imagined Orchs storming through the door. She took a step back, green-stained hand rising to caress her neck, the old wound pulsing. Not here, she pleaded, not here, not here.
But when the crowd parted it felt as though she'd breathed in the first full breath for the last two days.
Gildor pushed at the other Edhel who were trying to hold him back, his slim face twisted in anger as he shouted for them to part and let him through.
She'd never seen him furious before. She thought he even looked a little like Glorfindel. She thought the sight of his rage would be a shock, but just knowing he was alright caused her heart to swell so much that all she could do was stumble forward, eyesight wobbling as tears clouded her vision.
"Gildor." She breathed, wiping her hands on her apron, taking another unsteady step towards him.
His head whipped towards her, wet, blood-splattered hair snapping with the motion. On instinct, she scanned his body, feeling cool relief slither down her back when she didn't note any injuries. Other than him favouring his left leg, he looked safe. He was ok. Maybe - just maybe - her stupid decision worked.
She was so busy rejoicing at their reunion, that she didn't realise that his anger wasn't thawing the closer he got.
"Gildor – I'm so happy to see you-" Around them, the room was deathly quiet. Everyone else had realised what she hadn't. "Are you alright? Do you need help? I can hel-"
"You!" he spat, jabbing a finger at her. "should be gone."
Her head jerked back, as though his words had been a physical blow. "What- I don't understand?"
"A Rock Giant, Leda?" His mouth twisted into incredulity. "A Giant?"
"Well, me and Olorin-"
"Olorin!" He threw his hands up with a scoff. "Of course, the Wizard goaded you. You should be safe with the others. You should not be here."
He stepped forward, and she took an unsure step back. No words formed, she could only gape as he worked himself up into a rant.
"Of all the stupid, foolish things you could have done - this may be the worst. You could have died." His thunderous voice echoed around the room, and her tears of joy now stung her from embarrassment. "I told you I did not wish for you to be here when I returned. This was no simple ask! I wished for you to be home and safe. And I return to hear that you not only remain, but you are the one to wake that beast? Do you know what you have done? Do you understand the gravity of what you have-"
Her lip wobbled and a tear escaped her eye, tracking wet down her cheek. Gildor's wide eyes zeroed in on the movement. The severity bled from his face to. This was her Gildor, worried, gentle. He knelt, and when his hands rose to cup her cheeks, hers covered him. She just had to know that he was real. That he was safe. That, despite his anger, it had worked.
"Oh, little Leda." His hands were warm, rough in places from the dried blood, and he smelled awful but he was here. Alive. "What shall I do with you, hm?" He sighed, and she felt the tips of his fingers at the ends of her hair, tickling her nape. "You scared me."
"I'm sorry." She whispered, forgetting for a moment the room full of Edhel privy to her moment.
"No, it isn't so." He said softly, guilt lowering his brows. "Forgive me, please. When I heard that the Orch's had breached the wall I..." He trailed off, pushed her head to the left and right, down and around. Swivelling to check her for injuries the way she had scanned him. "I am glad to see you well."
The hands over his spasmed. "Breached the wall?" She breathed, eyes darting around. "The Orchs?" She hadn't known – had she slept through it? Where they still there?
Gildor made a hushing sound. "We will not speak on it now, it is alright." But was it? If they made it that far then maybe she hadn't helped. Maybe the Giant failed. Maybe- "Do not dwell, little Leda. All is well."
She nodded, resolving that thy would speak on it later. But there were more important things right then.
"I'm so happy you're here." She said. Her voice was thick with something she wasn't comfortable naming. And behind them, deprived of more raging outbursts or finally, at last, giving their reunion some privacy, the other Edhel turned away. She had no doubt, however, that they would not be able to hear each word they said.
Gildor's smile mixed with a grimace.
"In part because of you." He admonished lightly, tapping her cheek. "And your reckless plan with the Wizard."
She gave a watery titter. "I had to help. I didn't want you to…I had to help."
His smile turned sad. "I suppose you thought you had to, Little Leda."
"I haven't seen Lindir yet." She said, worrying. "Have you seen him?"
In the windowless room, it was hard to tell, but she was sure she saw a shadow pass across his face. His hands tightened on her skin. "Leda."
She blinked, alarm rising. "What?" She demanded, dropping her hands. "What's happened? Where is he?"
"He…" He swallowed, a new apprehension overcoming him. "When did you last rest?"
"No. I don't want to sleep." She said, trying and failing to disentangle herself from his grip but he held fast. "Gildor what's wrong? Where is he?"
"You should rest and then I will take you." He said gravely.
"No." She shook her head, heart pinching. "Show me."
. . .
Leda had never seen what exactly a Edhel Healer did. She assumed it was just a medieval version of herself. Less scalpel and more...hacksaw. But when she rounded the corner into Lindir's room, she saw how wrong she had been.
Lindir lay on a bed similar to Gildor's had been although this new room had no window. He was deathly pale and without a shirt, trousers and leg armour still attached as though there had been no time to remove it. Leda gaped at the scene, legs locking at the entrance. Her throat, which had been tight the entire walk there threatened to close completely at the sight of him.
Edhel breathed so quickly and lightly, that at the best of times Leda couldn't always tell they were breathing. Now, she had to squint, and hold her own breathe just to notice the slight, weak flutter of his chest.
Two healers stood by his head; hands outstretched. Their eyes were paler than the usual Edhel grey, nearer to bone white and a thin shimmering veil surrounded his body as they murmured a low, unending chant.
On Lindir's chest, a large bruise was forming, the skin sunken beneath as though he had been hit with something heavy. She took a shaky step forward on instinct, but Gildor's hand wrapped around her arm, gently tugging her back out into the hallway.
"You must let the Healer's work their will." He said softly.
"What's wrong with him?" She whispered, unable to look away from Lindir who looked as close to death as she had seem a living Edhel. Her head span as she remembered the funeral mounds, deep beneath their feet. Please, please don't let him die, she thought desperately, unsure who or what she was asking for mercy. Please don't make him leave me.
Gildor's, hand squeezed her arm comfortingly. "He was gravely injured."
"How?" She asked, unable to keep the vein of frustration from her voice. If she was only home, in St Philomena's, surrounded by her peers. She could get a scan, fix him, send him off to their major trauma centre and she'd stabilised him. Here, without her tools and technology she was of no use and that made her feel pathetic. "What happened exactly?"
When he didn't answer she looked up at him, finding his mouth pulled taut.
"Gildor what happened?" She twisted in his hold. "How did Lindir get injured? Why won't you answer me?"
"He will not answer, for he is worried of your reply."
Leda's head whipped to the side, where an exhausted Mereneth emerged from the deepest shadows into the blue lamplight. Leda hadn't seen her in hours and was alarmed to see her looking gaunt, cheeks hollowed, her once grey apron splattered with dry and drying blood.
"What do you mean?" She asked, confused. "Why would he be worried of my reply?"
Mereneth frowned, and Leda saw the tips of her fingers turn white as she braced her weight against the wall.
"He sustained a large blow to the chest from falling rock."
"Rock?" Leda's vision tunnelled. "Rock...fell? As in the Rock Giant?"
"Leda. You must listen to me." Gildor tried to pull her to his side but she shook her head, tugging until he released her to step back and away from Lindir's doorway.
"Did the Giant do this? Did I do this? Did I?" Her horrified gaze swung widely between him and Mereneth.
"No." Gildor's voice was sharp but he didn't try to approach her again. "This was not you. You must not blame yourself. You-"
"There are others." Mereneth interrupted, wiping a lock of frazzled hair away from her perspiring forehead.
"Mereneth!" Gildor's voice was sharp.
"Others?" Leda's voice tilted – no, maybe that was her. She swayed on her feet, batting away Gildor's hands when he tried to steady her. Bile rose in her throat, thickening her words. "Others were hurt by the Giant?"
"An unintended consequence to unleashing a Rock Giant into a battle, I should think." Mereneth said.
Leda's stomach fell. "I did this?"
Whatever Mereneth said next was lost to her, as was Gildor's reply and their subsequent bickering. All she had were eyes for Lindir. Broken, barely alive. The Healers' hands stretched, tips of their fingers meeting and causing the veil around him to ripple.
"I did this." She whispered, hand pressing against her chest. "I woke the Giant."
Gildor shook his head, but he was already blurring, the tears in her eyes obscuring him. "This isn't so. You mustn't think thus. Leda-!"
But she was already gone, turning to stumble back down the stone steps and into the main hall. She kept bumping into Edhel, both injured and healers, apologising through numb lips.
She caught sight of bodies behind the thin curtains that acted like walls. All of them bloodied and bruised. How many were victims of falling rock from the Giant? How many had been kicked aside by its feet as it stormed in? How many would have been fine if she hadn't broken her oath and believed, for one second, that she had any real power in this world?
Somehow, her feet remembered the way to her temporary room. Her blanket was still askew from where she'd pushed it aside earlier but someone had had the foresight to bring her a newly lit candle.
She didn't make it to the bed. Her breaths were coming too quickly. She felt lightheaded, her heart was pinching. She knew what it was, had diagnosed them and had them herself a thousand times before. But somehow, having a panic attack in a mountain stronghold after finding out that the Giant you woke up might be the reason your friend was dying made this one the worst she'd had in years.
She slid down to the floor, putting her head between her knees, but no matter how many times she counted backwards, no matter how many lists she made in her head, it never seemed to get rid of the overwhelming remorse.
. . .
"Little Leda?"
Leda woke with a start, slumped on the floor, the stone base of her bed jutting uncomfortably into the column of her spine.
The candle had burned down to the last of the wax and it hissed and sputtered as it died. She blinked her rest-bleary eyes, finding Gildor's worried face swim into view.
Worry sharpened her vision as she sat fully up. "Is it Lindir? What happened?" The words were rushed, threatening to bleed into one another. "Is he-he-"
"No." Gildor soothed, hand smoothing down her tense arm. "There has been no change."
She released her breath slowly, slumping back against the bed base. Gildor sat back on his haunches, taking in her tired appearance.
"What Mereneth spoke yesterday wasn't true." He tried gently. "You know this, do you not?"
She looked away. Him trying to make her feel better was having the opposite effect. "Not really, no."
"Leda." He breathed.
"If it's not Lindir, then what's wrong?" She asked, not wanting to sit and listen to him try to absolve her of the guilt she thought she should rightfully be feeling.
Gildor's nostrils flared, and she couldn't place his new expression. "It is not Lindir, who calls you now."
She frowned. "If not him, then who?"
. . .
Destruction and debris littered the hallways as Gildor led her out of the Halls of Healing and through the Stronghold. Large pools of red and black Orch blood lay drying in places, staining the rock. Some tunnels had completely collapsed, and others were filled with large rocks that Edhel around her worked to clear.
By the time Leda squeezed herself out of the narrow passage that led into the Stronghold for the first time since she had arrived, her hands were rough and cut in places from having to crawl and steady herself against jagged rock.
Gildor allowed her a moment to blink into the blinding sunlight before leading her across the bridge. The surface was narrow in places, broken by falling rock, and littered with blood and arrows and forgotten swords. She tried very much not to think about what had happened to the Edhel who had dropped them.
As it happens, there wasn't much time to dwell on them, because soon the sun was blotted out by the thing that called her.
The Rock Giant was crouched on its knees before the empty space he'd left in the mountain. Although it didn't move, she could still feel its gaze as it tracked her path along the bridge. She'd been up close to it before but never on the ground. As they got closer, craning her head up to see more clearly just what exactly she had summoned.
At the bridge-end Olorin waited on the left, leaning heavily on his staff as he turned to greet them. To the right stood a line of soldiers who were fixated on the Giant. They didn't have their swords raised but they didn't exactly look relaxed, either. Glorfindel wasn't anywhere to be seen, and she ignored the pang of disappointment when she realised his golden braids were absent amongst the soldiers.
Olorin looked tired and his grey beard was smeared red, but beneath that he was - infuriatingly - grinning from ear to ear.
"Ah! Miss Ackerman. At last." He said jovially, as if they weren't standing before a being that, should it decide, could crush them at any moment. Gildor rolled to a stop beside her. "He has been calling for you."
Leda's neck was already beginning to ache at the angle, but like every time her mountain had called to her, she found it quite hard to look away. The Giant's head turned down with a sound like grinding rock, wide holes for eyes locking onto hers.
"I heard." She said distracted, that familiar tug at her chest thrumming. "Did it say what it wanted?"
"He will not say. Only that it is you he wishes to speak to."
She squinted. "Well. Let's get this over with, then."
She took a step forward, only to be stopped by Olorin throwing out his staff to halt her. It hit her along her midriff, and she could feel the heat of the wood against her skin past the material of her dress.
"Best give him space." He said. When she glanced at him, he was eyeing the Giant with trepidation. "They are notoriously-"
"Finnicky." She said dryly but made no attempt to go any further. "I know."
The Giant looked on, unblinking. This close up, she'd never felt quite so small, nor so insignificant.
"Little flesh legs!" It greeted in a boom that made her flinch back. Up close, its breath was what she imagined the wind to be like when two great stones knocked together and it smelled like a damp, earthy cave. "You have come. I have been calling for you. You are upset."
She blinked, its accurate assumption of her state threw her, and she struggled for a while before being able to reply. The urge to lay all the blame for Lindir's injuries at its feet was strong, but the urge to not get smooshed by said feet was stronger so she kept it vague.
"I saw the injured." She settled on, doing her very best to keep her tone even. From the Giant's answering harrumph, she might not have tried hard enough.
"Injury is the companion of battle." It sniffed, if Giant's even could do that. "Surely you do not mean to lay guilt at my stones for what you asked of me?"
If possible, the rock above its brow seemed to move, angling high as if to ask really?
A hand landed on her shoulder and when she looked, she found Gildor staring down at her, uncharacteristically grave.
"Be careful what ground you tread, Leda." He said in Grey. Whatever magic the Giant used to speak English and force Olorin's spell out of her head did not extend to him as well. "If he should so choose it, he could end your journey here. He wishes to converse, do not fight him."
"I'll try." She said, but she had no chance to know if she spoke Grey or English, because the Giant spoke again.
"You do not understand war, little Flesh Legs. I warned you that your Edhel may still die. And yet you still asked for my aid."
Her heart squeezed. She must have looked pathetically miserable enough to make it feel a little bad because he sighed deeply, wafting another damp puff of air her way.
"Let me tell you a story to soothe your heart." It spoke. Now its voice was less of a boom, and more a crash of distant waves, taking on a hypnotic quality. "To my kin, I am called Boulderdash. I awoke long ago, when the world was dark and hadn't yet felt the light of lamps, nor trees nor stars. Over millennia of your years my siblings and I grew, gathering rocks and stones and jewels to be who we are now; the mighty Lords of Hithaeglir."
"Come." Boulderdash called. It's hand that rested on the ground rose, and the soldiers beside her each pulled their swords from their scabbards. But she paid them no mind, because the tug in her chest pulled violently. She shrugged off Gildor's hand, and pushed aside Olorin's staff, dodging and ducking as they reached for her, eyes fixated on its stone hand.
"Leda wait-!" Gildor's voice came as if from beneath water, and her mind batted the sound away like it was a gnat.
A stone finger extended, at the same time as her arm rose, like some bastardised version of Adam touching God in a painting whose name escaped her. Her palm touched the rough stone of its fingertip and then her mind caved in on itself.
. . .
It didn't feel like when Galadriel had invaded her mind. That had been like taking a mallet to stone, this was less a violent invasion and more a… slipping into place. It was as though Boulderdash had always been there, nestled into the recesses of her brain. Who knew. Maybe he had been.
It was hard, in the dream Boulderdash created, to know where she began, and they ended.
Inside the dream, her skin was rough as stone, and the burden and grief of her parents faded in and out of existence as the sharing of their memories ebbed.
When she was Boulderdash she had siblings, and they were large and made of granite. She saw the death of two lamps and mourned and caught a glimpse of two shining trees. In one breath she was herself, a pacifist, and in another she was a war general, a soldier, and then back to a healer.
She held the molten beating heart of a giant in her palm and saw lightning form in its birthplace in the clouds, feeling it whizz across her skin. She saw men and Edhel and short people fall and saw Giants smashed to little pieces, cleaved in two by hammers as tall as the hills. She felt loss, similar to her own but foreign, ancient. She saw the casualty and the peace of war. She loved and loathed the battle.
London became Arda and dad's flesh melted away until he was pure light; a light so bright, a being so immense that she felt like her skin would break open and she'd be set alight by-
Boulderdash broke the connection with a savage yank and her mind snapped back into her body with a rattle. She touched her arms. Warm. Flesh. She was herself. Sort of. Maybe.
"What...What-?" She mumbled, disorientated. Her stomach roiled and soon she was being pulled back, Gildor's arms around her middle, dragging her back on shaky legs. He was talking to her, and the soldiers were angry, shouting, swords raised, and it was so overwhelming she thought she was going to be sick. That is, until Boulderdash's guttural, harsh laughter shook the valley.
The sound was almost unbearable, but it cut across Gildor and the soldiers and helped ground her. Enough that she was able to halt Gildor dragging her away long enough to splutter out:
"What- what was that?" Boulderdash's laughter tapered off into heavy chortles of moss-flavoured air. "Why did you show me that? Why would you do that?"
"Edhel do bring me such amusement!" Boulderdash snorted, eyeing the soldiers who, from a quick command from Olorin, reluctantly lowered their swords. "So cautious. Foolish. If they weren't so pompous, they might even compare to humans."
Edhel slander aside, Leda's knees still felt shaky, and she very much wanted an explanation for whatever the fuck that was. "Boulderdash, please. What was that?"
Boulderdash huffed gently, adjusting his position. Each shift of his body caused the ground beneath her to tremor. "I have called to you since you arrived, little flesh legs. I wished to show you our story. The last human in Hithaeglir."
"I don't understand." She pleaded.
"Long ago my kin showed yours the art of fighting. These silly Edhel think they taught you war, but we taught you to fight. It has been a long time since I have shown one of the Thirdborn our stories."
Leda's brow crinkled. Whirling at the new information he threw at her. He'd met other humans? When? Where?
"Thirdborn? Mereneth always calls me Secondborn." She said.
That earned a scoff, his stone teeth gnashing together in an awful sound. "The Edhel think themselves so mighty that they claim the title of Firstborn when it was the Giants who awoke first to form the very ground you now walk upon. You, little flesh legs, belong to the Third children. The smallest of Eru's children. Feeble. Weak. Slow."
Despite her mind – and her body, come to think of it - still feeling wobbly, she managed a smile. "If you think so highly of us, why did you choose to help when I called?"
"Because you asked it of me." He said simply, as though that answered everything. As though that made up for everything that she'd put into motion. Everything she'd now directly caused.
"I don't understand that either." She said with a sigh.
The spaces where Boulderdash's eyes should have been watched her so intently she worried their minds would meld again and she wasn't sure if she'd be able to take the strain. Once was very much enough.
"You asked me to make it so the scum could not return." Boulderdash said suddenly, making her frown. What was he talking about now? "I shall give you one more gift, to lift the weight you feel resides on your shoulders."
"What are you talking abou-"
The ground shifted underneath her feet, and she toppled out of Gildor's arms. Her back hit the ground and she rolled, catching sight of Gildor stumbling in the other direction. Tiny bits of gravel and rock vibrated on the ground, lifting and shaking in the way she'd seen sand shift with a pulse of music. She yelled, hands covering her ears again as another round of Boulderdash's raucous laughter filled the valley.
Her teeth rattled in her mouth as the ground beneath her shifted and moved. Sounds of cracking rock popped around her and she pushed her hands more firmly over her ears to muffle the sounds. She counted to sixty-five before everything stopped moving. And only unfurled from her position when Gildor helped her to stand.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw him check her for wounds with a face so thunderous she thought he might do something positively Leda-like and shout at Boulderdash.
As she looked about her, she frowned as she saw that for all the moving the ground just did, the valley didn't look, at first glance, like much had changed.
"What did you do?" She whispered. Boulderdash stood, each step making her body jump from the force of the weight.
"I will not say that I am sorry for the injuries accrued by the Edhel in a battle I was called forth to fight in." Boulderdash said. Part of the effect of their already lukewarm admission of culpability was lost as their stone mouth stretched wide in a yawn. She didn't even know that Giants could yawn. He began to walk backwards, and she tried to follow, pushing at Gidor's arms until reluctantly, he let her go again. "But I wish for their Song to not end here."
"What are you doing?" She asked, a little desperate as she followed his retreat. She knew though, deep down, where he was going next. Before it hadn't seemed so bad, but after their minds had joined, she didn't think she wanted him to go back to leave just yet.
"I have fulfilled my promise and made it so they cannot return." He said, bending to crouch back into the space in the mountain left by his body. Slowly, rock began to fuse at his feet and his legs. Soon it would take his torso and head.
"And now you too will uphold your promise." This Boulderdash said to the crowd, and from the murmurs she heard from behind, she knew that he had chosen to speak this last command in Grey.
She watched with surprising sadness as he turned into the mountain, curling in on himself. The fuse was almost complete, it spread across his neck and cheek and up, along the corner of his eye that had called to her for so many weeks.
"I will see you at the beginning, little flesh legs." Boulderdash said, softly on the edge of the wind. A puff of earth breath hit her face and then the air was still.
Quiet settled around her. Too quiet. For the first time since she had arrived at the stronghold, she felt the absence of her mountain. She hadn't realised just how deeply Boulderdash had burrowed in - hadn't known how attached he had been to her until he was properly asleep. On shaky legs, she staggered forward to rest a hand against the stone.
She didn't need to be two hundred foot tall to know that if she looked, the hole in the rock face that had called to her would now be gone, nothing but flat, smooth rock. All those nights she had been left on her own, each time she'd felt isolated. She'd assumed then that she was by herself. But now, with the absence of Boulderdash's influence, she truly was finally alone. And she realised, quite quickly, that she didn't really want that anymore.
That surprising sadness rose up through her throat, pushing past her teeth into a blubbery gasp. She turned, searching for Gildor. Instead, she tripped, falling into the armoured chest of someone as whatever dam had been keeping her emotions at bay finally broke, releasing a torrent of tears.
Stiff arms rose, settling awkwardly around her as sweet spice filled her nostrils. The arms tightened as her sobbing turned to snuffling, that turned to sniffing and finally morphed into small, lonely little hiccups as the wave passed.
Eventually, she craned her neck, expecting Gildor's kind, soft face.
Instead, Glorfindel stared down at her, eyes wide and round.
They stared at each other for a long time. She should have felt mortified, but there was no judgement nor suspicion in his look and she was thankful that he could at least give her that.
"Gildor." He called softly, without looking away.
Gildor materialised beside them, his kind visage a balm to the raw feeling left behind after such an outpouring of whatever that had been.
"Take Miss Ackerman back to her room. I think she needs to rest."
Any other day it might have been an insult. She would have snapped at him not to speak for her. But as soon as he slowly let her go, a wave of dizziness passed over her. Maybe he was right.
Gildor reached for her past Glorfindel, and she let herself lean against his side as he led her away, back across the bridge that was now mysteriously wider than it had been before and devoid of the weapons that had been littered across it. Just before she followed Gildor back through the Stronghold's entrance she turned, eyes finding the miniature Glorfindel who stood still, watching her.
"Thank you." She whispered, knowing full well that he would hear her. If he had an audible response she wouldn't know, but she did see his head dip into a nod and knew she'd been heard.
Cross-posted on AO3 as usual!
There's SO MUCH TELL and barely any show in this chapter. I very much struggled writing this. I'm way, way out of my comfort zone here and officially decree that making her wake a Giant was so dumb and such an uncomfortable stretch for my ability to write words lol
As usual, I had to post this as soon as I could or I'd go insane with perfectionism and start obsessing so apologies for any mistakes, I'll catch 'em over the next week. I cannot believe we're over 100k words in and I haven't even got to Phase 2! I originally planned for this to be 90k words at a push. What're we gonna do guys 😭
To you my lovely readers: happiest new year to you all, and happy early lunar new year to those who celebrate! Your responses to the last chapter were just SO amazing I love you all. Thank you so, so much for still reading and checking in and taking the time to comment. I appreciate it and you all so much.
If anyone has any tips on how to make writing anything remotely high-fantasy or just normal everyday interactions between characters believable please send tips because ya girl is struggling lol
Sending love to you all always
Novaer, Aobh xoxo