No-one would think to look here, surely. This place was so tiny, so unnoticeable that it looked like a mere shallow crevice in the vast, mountainous area that surrounded it. They could not find me here in this hidden cave.
Steel plunging into soft skin, rancid breath touching pointed ear
I looked down as the long wound in my right shin throbbed. Even weeks afterwards, I was still on edge. It was not healing properly, either, but I had not the supplies I needed to help myself, nor the motivation to bother finding some. My boots, hastily tugged on in the course of my escape, were thrown against the cave wall on the ledge where I had sat for time uncounted. There was blood on the lining of the right.
What was the point of worrying, anyway? I had no-one now.
Grey eyes glassing over
I had barely kept myself alive since that night. There were some things to eat on the slopes of the mountains, just vegetation since I had no weapons for hunting, but this had kept me afloat. Why, I wasn't quite sure. Certainly, death would be preferable to this cruel imitation of life, where my stomach growled from hunger, my throat scratched from thirst and my wound throbbed with ever-increasing violence. Perhaps I was afraid to join them in the Halls of Mandos where, surely, I would find the answers that plagued my mind at all times.
He hadn't even looked surprised
I shook myself mentally and looked up from the ledge in this miniscule place I had made my home. The sun was setting over the rough grasslands west of the Misty Mountains. I could not see them, however, through the slit-like entrance to the cave. I only watched the orange light permeate the usually untouchable shadows. Every other time of the day, I would fix my eyes on those shadows, irrationally afraid of what might spring out of them, but for a few minutes, the whole cave blazed with evening light and I felt safer.
My ledge was about 8 feet off the floor, and it had been a challenge to climb up the ancient steps to it, carved for who knew what purpose, on that night when everything had changed. I hadn't left it for perhaps three days now. It was easy to lose count here. The water supply had seemed so far away, and anyway what was the point of moving for it now? What would I do with my life without them?
Torn white skirt, rough shouting. No one to help.
I sighed. The nightdress I had escaped in barely looked like the homemade gown it had been before that terrible night. I had been forced to prise the ripped material away from the wound on my leg when I had woken here for the first time. It now sat either side of the wound, sometimes brushing the half-healed gash with its grubby edges.
I'll deal with this one later
Was everything supposed to be so numb? Most things seemed so listless now, so pointless, as I sat on the ledge that was now my bed. I wondered, not for the first time, whether I should just end it now. It would be easy to never step off this ledge again, to let myself slip gradually away. Were it not for the ache in my stomach and the razor in my throat, I might have almost called it romantic.
Just as I had resolved to bear the pain and sit for only a while longer in Middle Earth, the entrance to the cave was blocked. I looked up, jerking away from my heavy thoughts, and found in front of me a figure most unwelcome. There was a glimpse of broad shoulders tickled by scruffy dark waves of hair, and weapons slung practically over a slim back.
I stiffened, stifling a gasp, and edged silently backwards into the ledge. However, its width was small and there wasn't far to go. Pressing myself against the wall, I berated myself internally. I should have left this mortal world long ago – now they had found me again.
The man did not notice me at first but sunk to the ground and lit a fire. It kindled a flame brighter than I could ever have achieved if I had tried – too bright. I caught a brief image of grey eyes glinting in the light of the flames and a bearded face.
He didn't look like the men who had attacked us, but what did I know of such things as men? Perhaps they had sent a comrade to search for me, or a mercenary, or a murderer, or-
My unwanted visitor sat back and glanced around the cave. Just by chance, he caught a glimpse of my quivering outline in the dark. He stood, a hand on his sword, and I drew my knees up to my chest, my heart pounding so hard it was almost painful.
"Who goes there? Speak quickly!"
As the man's gravelly voice filled the cave, another person entered carrying a rabbit or two with a bow in his pale hand. His friend gestured for him to stop, and he dropped the rabbits to the ground, fist tightening around the smooth wood of his bow.
"Speak now unless you are an enemy" the man said again, danger and unexplainable power in his quiet voice. "I will not hesitate to defend this hideout, small as it is, and that would go ill for you".
An involuntary gasp escaped my mouth, and I screwed my eyes shut in frustration. The man evidently did not hear, but the other stepped forward. I peeked out from my hiding place in my knees and saw his pointed ears, his pale hair and slender figure. "Aragorn, nuitho i ruith", he warned quietly. (S: hold your wrath)
The elf stepped forwards again and I flattened myself against the wall, shaking. "Man cenich?" The man called Aragorn questioned. (S: What do you see?)
The elf reached out a hand and pushed Aragorn's sword point towards the ground "This is no enemy, but a woman – an elleth".
The man's brows contracted in confusion and horror. He bent to the ground and set his sword down, keeping his hands in my sight as he reached back for his quiver and put it next to his blade. The elf copied his mortal friend, using the same careful movements as the other.
"Come down to join us, my lady, we will not harm you". The gravelly voice of the man reached my ears once more, but this time it was gentle and kindly. I swallowed. How could I trust that? I knew that the two below could see me on my ledge, so I sat forwards a little and silently shook my head, causing it to spin alarmingly. Aragorn stepped forwards then, his mouth open. He, and the other, looked shocked.
"Legolas, she's emaciated", Aragorn breathed. Legolas frowned, shushing him impatiently and speaking to me.
"How long have you been here?"
That was a good question. I thought for a second, but only shrugged in answer, unsure.
"We have food and water", Legolas continued, "we can help".
I wanted them to leave. I did not need food and water. The only thing I needed was that which I could never get back. I raised a shaking hand to my forehead and shook my head again.
"I apologise for threatening you, I never expected you to be an elf maid, and I certainly had no intention to frighten you or cause you pain." Aragorn said, his voice guilt-ridden. I avoided looking at him. How could I explain that it was a fear of who he might be that set me on edge, without seeming completely mad? I pressed my chin into my knees again
There was silence for a while. The man and elf exchanged sorrowful glances, silently trying to decide what to do, as I watched over the grubby material of my nightdress. Aragorn spoke again in that same gentle tone. "I will not hurt you. I swear on my own life, and the life of the one whom I love, I will not touch you without your permission. I would never." I almost felt guilty, hearing the tone of hurt in his voice, but I only swallowed, looking naturally to the elf for reassurance. I had never really interacted with men, but elves I could read far easier.
"He speaks the truth", Legolas confirmed quietly, "for neither of us will lay a finger on you. We just want to help. Perhaps we could get you home."
Sheets on the floor, doors banged open.
The last sentence was spoken for comfort, but at its utterance a tear slid down my cheek. I pressed my head more deeply into my knees, trying to calm my panic at the thought of home. I could sense them looking helplessly at each other. It was a few minutes before either of them spoke again. One of them had skinned the meat and the smell of rabbit roasting over an open fire almost drove me mad.
"Man i eneth lin, hiril nin?" (S: What is your name, my lady?)
The gentle tones of the Sindarin language washed over my ears, spoken softly and naturally as only an elf could. After a second, I looked up again. Legolas was stood up, while Aragorn tended the fire. Cautiously, and after some deliberation, I spoke, though barely a sound forced its way out of my parched throat.
"Nesseldë".
Legolas nodded then sighed slightly. "You need food and water Nesseldë. Please let me help".
My dry throat made swallowing difficult. My eyes left the elf, lingering on the meat roasting over the fire, the delicious smells wafting into my nostrils. I came to an irresistible decision. Slowly, shaking still, I stood unsteadily and lowered myself down the steps. As I neared him, Legolas offered a tentative hand. It had been days since my last meal, and I was weak. I breathed in and put my hand into his. He helped me to navigate the final few steps, putting his hand under my other arm as I swayed, close to collapsing. I knew he could feel my whole body shaking with the effort of movement, could see my unsteady breaths as I cast quick glances at his mortal companion. He tried to soothe my fear.
"It's alright", he reassured, "sit down here, I won't let you fall". Gently he held on to me as I lowered myself down, my back against the cave wall. Before I could protest, he had unfastened his warm winter cloak from around his shoulders. "Sit forwards", he requested. I winced as he shuffled closer and saw him bite the inside of his lip, supressing a sigh. "I will not hurt you", he said softly. "I only want to keep you warm." Hesitantly, I did as he had asked and allowed Legolas to drape his long cloak around me. He fastened the clasp carefully at the nape of my neck then climbed the steps to the ledge, gazing at it's tiny surface before retrieving my boots from the corner.
I realised, as I wound my cold hands into the thick cloak, that it was well made. The clasp seemed to be silver. Wondering who Legolas was to have such fine clothes, I glanced up at him. He bowed his head slightly and I mustered a tiny, grateful smile back.
Turning, Aragorn rummaged for a moment in his bag, pulling out a thick blanket and handing it to me. "You look freezing", he muttered. I nodded, unable to meet his eyes now that he was so much closer to me. I unravelled the blanket and covered my legs too.
"Thanks", I mumbled.
The two next to me seemed so tall and imposing. I wondered what they were doing together, and why they were bothering to help me. The mortal man seemed stern and grim, but there was something underneath his exterior that made me wonder what else he was made of. The elf was as tall and fair as the lords of old. I felt like a little scullery maid who had walked into some great war council from ages gone by when elves and men readily worked together. Almost against my will, I curled up smaller, trying to make myself as unnoticeable as possible by shrinking into the blanket and cloak I had been given.
Legolas frowned as I moved. "You're hurt", he said softly, his eyes catching the long wound on the inside of my right shin. I looked down at it too and the man who had stabbed me flashed unstoppably in front of my eyes. I glanced involuntarily up at Aragorn and nodded, covering my leg with his blanket.
"I escaped", I said, more to myself than the others, trying to control the sense of unreality engulfing me. Perhaps I never really got away. It was all such a blur it seemed like a dream. I could still be trapped.
"Can you tell us what happened?" Aragorn pushed gently
Brother, mother, father.
I shook my head, tears forming anew in my stinging eyes. "That's okay." The man added softly.
"Here". Legolas dug out a skin of water. "Only have small sips, too much at once will do more harm than good". I took Legolas' advice, sipping it slowly even though instinct told me to gulp the whole thing down in one.
My eyes stung ever more as time passed. They wanted to droop shut, to sleep. I was always so tired. Despite my tension at being in the presence of a mortal man again, and my uncertainty about the elf even though he seemed kind, my eyes flickered shut. I was slipping down the cave wall, but a pair of tender hands caught me and lowered me carefully to the ground, placing my head gently onto some elevated material which felt soft against my cheek. The blanket Aragorn had given to me was wrapped tightly around me, and for the first time in weeks I was warm.
***
Malnutrition had made me clumsy and confused, so it took some time to work out what the faint noise around me was as I woke. There were quiet, urgent whispers going back and forth above me. For a moment, I stayed stock still, wondering if the attackers had come back, but this didn't seem to fit. I was warm, for one, and there was something soft cushioning my heavy head against the uneven, rocky ground. I relaxed slightly as the events of the evening came back to me.
"There is much to consider. If we leave her here, she is sure to die quickly, so that is out of the question." Legolas sighed. "She needs to be cared for, and that wound must be cleaned. It looks infected already, even to my untrained eyes."
"I think that is all we can say for sure at the present, but where do we take her? Imladris?" Aragorn replied.
"Where else is there?" Legolas questioned desperately. "It is a treacherous journey, but I fear we have no choice. Valar knows how she came to be out here alone".
"We'll think of something" Aragorn sighed "Not that we have any choice. But whatever she has been through, I think it was at the hands of men. She can barely look at me. You are right, I think. It would be best to take her to Rivendell, to be among her own people."
"Indeed, though something tells me she is not of Elrond's lands." Legolas muttered. I could feel his eyes on me and wondered how he knew. "Neither is she from the Woodland Realm. She is not Sindar nor Silvan. Her hair is too dark, and her eyes are like the star-strewn sky."
"Do you think she is old enough to have seen the light of Valinor?" Aragorn asked in astonishment. It was a second before Legolas answered.
"No", he said eventually, "but perhaps her parents saw it. Eyes like hers are only ever seen in the elders of the Noldor, it is said."
"I recognise her eyes somehow. She seems familiar to me, but I can't place her." Aragorn breathed.
"I have never someone with such striking eyes", Legolas commented, "but I expect you know more of the Noldor than I, since you have spent l longer in both Imladris and Lothlórien."
"Whoever we have happened across, she is badly hurt." Aragorn remarked grimly, snapping out of his musings. "We will have to be careful not to startle her."
"I wish we knew why, but the poor little maiden looked so broken when you asked her. I am loth to cause her more anguish by pushing her to speak", Legolas replied. Aragorn sighed again. I heard him turn the spit over the fire
"Wake her, will you? This is almost cooked".
I could feel Legolas' hesitation as he shifted slightly closer to me. After a moment, he put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed it gently. "Nesseldë?" he muttered cautiously. I stiffened, even though his touch was soft. Shame pooled in my guts at my reaction, and I could sense Legolas' pity. He rubbed his thumb cautiously along my shoulder.
"I am not going to hurt you. The rabbit is almost cooked, and I think it would be wise to eat a little. You are very frail, my lady, and it worries us." Steeling myself for facing them once again, I opened my eyes and sat up slowly, my head spinning. Legolas hovered anxiously next to me, making sure I was safe to sit up on my own. Once I was settled against the wall once more, he offered me a cautious half-smile. The corners of my mouth lifted only slightly in response, but he smiled a little wider as he saw.
"Nesseldë? I need to check the wound on your leg." I looked up warily at Aragorn. He was biting his lip, a bandage, cloth and a skin of water in his hands. "I do not wish to hurt you, but if it isn't cleaned and bandaged it won't heal".
I breathed in shakily then closed my eyes as I nodded. He was right – the ache in my leg increased as the days went by, and I knew it would get even worse if left untended. I opened my eyes but met no-one else's, watching Aragorn stand and walk tentatively around the fire to my right side, keeping his steady hands where I could see them and kneeling down next to me.
I had expected Legolas to step back, but he shifted even closer to me, offering me a cooling sip of water and sliding down into a sitting position right beside me. I tensed at his actions but made no move away from him. After a second, he offered me his hand tentatively; I pretended not to notice.
I pushed aside the blanket with my unsteady hand, revealing the tear in my filthy nightdress where the dagger had pierced me. Aragorn cautiously lifted the material aside to fully reveal the wound. He grimaced sympathetically as he brushed the wound with his fingers, checking its depth. I looked down and away from the others, but there was no way to hide in this cramped cave as tears escaped down my cheeks.
"I'm so sorry." Aragorn frowned. "This will hurt. Your leg is infected, but it can be remedied, and I'll cover you up again as soon as I am finished."
His gentle reassurances made my tense shoulders drop a little as he reached for his pack, taking out some small, quite ordinary looking leaves. However, I was not fooled by their appearance.
"Athelas."
Aragorn ground up the leaves and added water to make a paste. "It should draw out the infection."
He came closer again and, as quickly and gently as he could, began to wash the wound with fresh water, while the Athelas waited beside him. despite his efforts, the pain was hard to bear. I lent my head on the cool stone but, try as I might, I could not hold back my tears, or my terror. The one who had done this to me flashed into my mind. I could feel his rancid breath on the point of my ear, his blade in my leg.
I bit back a squeak of pain when Aragorn reached the deepest part of the wound, clenching my fists and trying to stay in the present moment as I felt it slipping away, however, I couldn't hold on any longer.
I'll deal with this one later
My heart was pounding.
We should have some fun, before she meets her end
My hands shook.
Shouts of fury in a dark forest night
My breathing was coming out in gasps.
I ran.
I was brought back to reality by someone calling my name, by the soft touch on my cheek of work-hardened fingers. The real world seemed to crash like a wave into my sight once again. Aragorn was kneeling directly in front of me. As he saw I had noticed him, he withdrew his hand from my cheek. "It's all over now, sweet lady".
I nodded, attempting to calm myself, and looked down. The wound was hidden by fresh linen and my shoulders relaxed. Legolas shifted slightly closer again, though it seemed he did not dare come as close as he had been before. Had I said something as my mind became trapped back in that terrible moment? If I had, the other elf made no mention of it. He pulled the material of my torn nightdress over my leg again to protect my dignity, reaching across me and pulling the blanket back over my legs too, then sat down again.
"Are you alright?" He asked quietly.
"I'm okay, just tired" I said, a little too quickly.
He sighed. "Do not feel as though you have to pretend. Our only concern is making sure you know you are safe with us".
I felt a little comfort from Legolas' words. After all, the actions of he and his mortal friend so far had shown nothing but respect and protection. "Thanks", I muttered shyly, after a moment of hesitation. Legolas only smiled a little awkwardly, stretching his long legs out in front of him.
I supposed I should thank the other, too. It was unfair to judge all his race on the ones who had come to my home that night. Aragorn had only come near me to provide some much-needed treatment for my wound. I could not imagine him acting to harm me after all that effort. "Thank you, Aragorn" I said, pronouncing the man's name slowly and hoping I was getting it right. He bowed his head slightly, finally lifting the rabbit down from its spit and splitting it into three. My portion was smaller than theirs, but I could not eat or drink too much at once – it would only make me sicker.
My mouth watered as Legolas handed me my plate. "It must be tempting but eat slowly. You really need to keep this down". I nodded in understanding and nibbled the rabbit. It wasthe best thing I had ever tasted, but I took a minute's break between chunks of meat, letting it settle so my stomach wouldn't be overwhelmed by the richness of my dinner.
As I ate, I watched my saviours out of the corner of my eye. Aragorn was bearded and dark haired, with a height that would have rivalled that of even the tallest of elves. His grey eyes held some power that, somehow, I found inexplicable. It was slightly intimidating, but I managed to feel a little safer in his presence as I ate, and my bandaged leg brushed against the other.
Legolas was almost the opposite of his friend. He was only an inch or two smaller than Aragorn, but his hair was bright blond and straight, neat braids keeping it away from his ageless face. His eyes were strikingly blue, his eyebrows dark and complimenting of his proud cheekbones. He was slender, but I knew he must be strong. His bow seemed to be his main weapon, and archers had to have plenty of strength to pull back the string with enough power for a damaging shot, or so my brother had told me.
Wide eyes looking desperately for a way of escape.
I dragged myself out of my own mind, focusing with difficulty on the present once more. They seemed such unlikely friends, these two who had stumbled upon me, and the question came to my lips without thought.
"Who are you?"
They both raised their eyebrows in surprise as I spoke without encouragement. "You know our names, I believe, but it makes sense to start from the beginning", Aragorn smiled slightly. "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, chieftain of the Dúnedain. My friend here is Legolas of the Woodland Realm, son of Thranduil."
My eyes widened slightly. It seemed the heir of Númenor and the son of a king had just cooked me dinner and cleaned my wounds. I suddenly became painfully aware of the filthy, torn nightdress I wore, and drew my knees up to my chest with effort.
Aragorn watched as I huddled shyly into the blanket he had given me and his face broke into a small, kind smile. "Do not be embarrassed. Being the Chief of the Dúnedain isn't that impressive. My people are constantly assailed by the Enemy, and we are too few in number to protect these lands as we once did."
"Atar told me about the Dúnedain", I recalled quietly. "He said you descend from the kings of Gondor and Númenor. That sounds impressive to me". (Q: father)
Aragorn smiled again, defeated. "Perhaps one day, it will be."
"What about you?" I turned to Legolas, peeking up at him through the folds of Aragorn's blanket. "You are far from your home".
Legolas' brow furrowed as he answered. "I had to escape my responsibilities for a while. An heir has many."
"Why come here?"
"I happened across the Dúnedain", Legolas replied, "but that is a long tale. What about you? Atar you call your father. Where do elves still use Quenya in everyday speech?"
I shrugged. "Quenya is my first language, but we spoke Sindarin too. We were attacked", I muttered, looking away from him.
"By men?" Aragorn added. I nodded and there was silence for a few seconds as the shaking in my hands worsened. The others were watching me carefully. Eventually, Legolas spoke.
"You should get some sleep. You are not well, Nesseldë "
I glanced up at the both of them, wondering whether I could really trust them. It seemed unlikely that one of the Dúnedain would harm me, or an elvish prince. Anyway, what did it matter? I had nowhere else to go, no one to turn to, it seemed, but them. I nodded slowly and pulled Legolas' hood over my head. At least I would be warm tonight.
So, hello again!
Since finishing The Last Othellan, there's been a huge gap where writing used to be, and my Tolkein obsession has only grown.
I missed writing so much that when a new idea came into my head, I couldn't not seize the opportunity with both hands. This story will have a few references to Tolkien's wider world of Arda, especially some things from the Silmarillion, so if you ever need clarification feel free to ask in the comments!
I'll also be using both Sindarin and Quenya, so in the translations I'll put either a Q or an S to indicate which.
Chapter 2 will be up very soon. It's good to be back!
AM