Compos Mentis [Rávamë's Bane: Book 2]

Part I: Chapter 11 ~ The Road Behind

A/N: What's this? An update? After seven months? You mean Rella's not dead and buried with her copy of The Complete Works of Shakespeare after all? (And yes, I do own a hardback copy of Bill Shakespeare's entire works because I'm cool like that.)

No, ladies and gents, no she's certainly not dead. Though she doesn't blame you at all for thinking so. May to November is a bloody long time to hang off the edge of a cliff, and for that, you have my sincere apology. However, the wait comes with good reason, besides my real life work getting in the way. I'm not kidding when I say was the hardest chapter I've written to date. It literally took me six months to get right in between bouts of crippling writers block and work dramas, and even now I'm still not quite happy with it. Probably never will be totally happy with it, now that I think about it. Out of all the chapters of RB I've written so far, this is probably the top contender for a re-write someday.

So, if any of you sharper critics are wondering why this chapter seems a bit of a hot mess, that's why!

But needs must, and much like the rest of you, I'm sick of being stuck in this spot and really want to get on with the rest of the story so E and L can finally get that damned first kiss without being interrupted again! But despite all that, I do hope you enjoy the fruits of my labours. So lets get on with it!

A planet sized thank you to everyone who stuck with me in the comment section during this long wait. You continue to amaze me with your love of Eleanor, Tink and their ongoing story. I hope I, and this update, deserve your dedication. :)

Enjoy x

~ ♕ ~

The walk back to the barracks was done in perfect, terrible silence.

Even the soldier - who was being frogmarched by Gimli as far from me as possible - didn't dare even complain at his wounds. He did send me the occasional look that mixed stung pride, anger and fear over his shoulder in between Gimli ordering him to keep moving, though.

I didn't return the looks.

If there was a manual on the proper etiquette of treating someone you'd just come close to murdering after they'd tried to force themselves you, I hadn't read it, and had no desire to. Unless it involved burying them in a shallow grave.

Legolas all but carried me on his side all the way to the barracks, into a mercifully empty side chamber, and helped me collapse onto one of the benches. He'd tried planting himself between me and Boromir when he and Aragorn followed us in, but Aragorn told him to wait with Boromir outside and make sure he didn't try to run.

Legolas didn't protest, though I could tell from one look at his face that he didn't want to leave. Even so, it was clear that he wanted Boromir near me even less, so he gave my hand a gentle squeeze and obeyed.

I remained the next best thing to catatonic after that, arms coiled around myself as the others began calling for a healer to see to me, and calling Háma's guards to see to my first attacker, whom Gimli shoved so hard into a chair on the opposite side of the room that it almost went over backwards. I just sat there in silence while an elderly female healer appeared and began fussing over my injuries, unable to look at anyone as I listened to Gimli "gently coax" an honest account of what had happened in the alley out of the soldier.

The now very sober young man tried to flat out lie at first. I didn't see the looks on Aragorn's or Gimli's faces with their backs to me, or heard what they whispered to him, but he's taken one a look up at them both and turned an unhealthy shade of green-grey.