Star-Crossed

Chapter 32

Beuren took months to heal. She had been banged up pretty bad, adding a few small scars to her collection, including one that ran along her right cheek bone, the side the orc had hit all those times. There was a funeral for her brother, she attended, wrapped in so many bandages she could have gone without clothes. Her shoulder took only a short time to heal, Elrond and Gilraen took the time to help her get it back to its old strength.

Elrohir never mentioned what he’d seen to anyone. He brushed it off as his imagination, several words that sounded like Elvish in Black Speech, nothing important. However, it did haunt him for many years to come, made him look differently at the creatures, he felt pity now, even more than disgust, he felt pity.

Azog took only hours to recuperate. Once he realized what he’d done, he grew enraged. Massacring half of his pack, causing the others to flee from fright, he had let her go; Beuren had slipped from his grasp once again. And that only fueled the fire. If he couldn’t get her, he couldn’t get his main prize, and with the other ranger dead, there was no way to get to her. And it was key that he did get her, because Beuren was his only weakness. Beuren led to Thorin, and Thorin led to the fall of the Durin line. Just the thought of it filled him with so much anger that it was beyond words to describe.

Several years later…

“Not this again.” Beuren said. Her nephew looked down at her. His eyes like his mother’s, that beautiful grey you could easily get lost in. She raised her gaze to his.

“Elladan dared me to.” Estel said, clutching his finger in one hand.

“So you listened?” She said, unraveling the kerchief from around his hand. “When has he ever not dared you to do something stupid?” His finger was sliced open, exposing bone. He obviously had some brains in his head, he just didn’t use them.

“Can you fix it?”

“No, we are going to have to chop it off.” Beuren spat back sarcastically. “Yes I can fix it, now come here.” She led him into her home. “Your mother is going to kill you.”

“Don’t even start on that right now please, my finger hurts and its bleeding again.” Beuren turned, wrapping the handkerchief around his finger tightly, and then clamping her hand around the finger to add extra pressure. She rummaged in a drawer with the other hand till she found a needle and thread.

After several excruciating minutes, Estel’s finger was sewn shut, neatly so. Beuren washed her hands of the blood and dried them on a thin dish towel. Wrapping his finger with thin gauze, she looked up at him. With a sad smile she tucked a lock of wavy brown hair behind his ear.

“You remind me so much of your father, Estel.” She said softly. Then patting his shoulder, she nodded towards the door; he turned, seeing Elladan peering through the door. “Get out of here.” She said, giving him a light, playful shove towards the door. She leaned on the counter and looked at Elladan, Elrohir stepped in behind him.

“We are leaving in an hour.” Elrohir said. She nodded.

“I’ll be packed in a moment.” The brother’s nodded.

“Yes, you will.” The three of them turned to look back at the door. There he stood, white beard unbelievably tame despite the wind, grey robes hiding his boots.

“Mithrandir.” The brothers greeted him with a bow. Beuren was much more informal, he ran towards him, leaping into his arms. He laughed cheerily and caught her. She giggled and put her bare feet back on the cool stone below her 

“It has been so long!” She said, grinning broadly up at him. He grinned down at her in return.

“How long will you be away?” Gandalf asked, blue eyes peering down at her from behind bushy eyebrows.