Sixteen

Lancaeriel managed to find a semi comfortable position by laying on her uninjured side, facing the elf who called himself Lass. He could not be comfortable with his arms tied behind his back and legs tied at his ankles, but the men were taking no chances.

She watched as he sat, knees bent, head tilted back as he looked at the stars overhead. His loose golden hair reflected the starlight, and she found herself staring at his handsome visage. He impressed her as someone who was kind, full of honor, and judging by his skill fighting the men, a trained warrior. In a way, he reminded Lancaeriel of her brother, Anthir.

Just the thought of her dead brother made her heart ache with the loss. Anthir and she had been close friends as well as siblings. The thought of never seeing him again still brought a crippling agony to her soul.

She focused back on Lass, studying his profile in the darkness. She was sure Lass was not his full name, even as Caeri was not hers. She had once heard that the elves in other realms considered it foolish to shorten one's name. But her Silvan kin took pride in their own customs, and one of those was to shorten long names into a manageable mouthful.*

Most of her friends had simple wood names: Lothinn, Aellad, Lalfain.* But Lancaeriel's mother had named her for her blue-green eyes. 'Sea-eyes', her mother called them, and so Lancaeriel was named for something she had never seen.

Her companion, however, had a typical wood-elf name: Leaf. She would like to know more about him. Where was he from? Had he remained as she had, unwilling to leave the wood?

As she watched him, Lass glanced her way and finding her eyes on him, smiled.

Lancaeriel returned the smile, thankful she was not in this situation alone. Of course, she would not be in this situation at all, if she had only heeded Rani's warning.

Lancaeriel lowered her eyes from her fellow captive. The thought of the elfling caused her to wonder if Lass was the one the girl had spoken about. Who was he? How had he just happened to be where she needed him?

She lifted her head and found his grey eyes were still on her. "Are you feeling any better?" he asked.

His eyes drifted to the man named Torel who had taken the first watch. The man watched them curiously, but made no move to separate them or command them to silence.

Lancaeriel appreciated his concern. "I'll live…thanks to you."

One corner of his mouth turned up, and he glanced away, almost shyly. He had spoken so boldly to the men, expressed such concern for her injury, that she found it odd for him to seem shy. She knew nothing about him, other than what his actions had spoken for him.

"How did you come to be here, to rescue me from this terrible fate?" she asked.

He looked back at her and she searched his gaze, catching a brief glimpse of a dark shadow within him. He hid it well, but she knew what she had seen. She had her own shadows that she hid.

Lass lifted his head to once more gaze at the stars. Without looking at her, he began to tell her his story.

"I live in Ithilien, but traveled here to say good bye to my family, as they chose to sail." A deep sadness emanated from him as he spoke, his pain almost tangible. "I never thought they would leave, that our people would be divided again."

"You are Sindar?" she asked, surprised for she had assumed he was Silvan as she was. She knew of none of her own people who had chosen to go West.

He nodded. "Half, from my mother, but she was the last of her kin as far as I know. My father hails from Doriath, and though he loved the wood, he and my siblings felt the need to go West.

"It was difficult for me," he continued, "as I am now the only one of my family remaining. I could not bring myself to return home to Ithilien, but lingered…taking my time saying good bye to the wood."

He sighed, his voice dropping to a bare whisper. "I will not return here again."

Lass frowned slightly, and cast a questioning glance her way, but he continued his tale without asking why she was here, much to Lancaeriel's relief. She did not feel quite ready to speak of the pain in her own heart, or her deceitfulness in staying alone in the wood.

"A couple of weeks ago, I realized there was some purpose left for me here, some task that yet needed to be completed. I headed northwest of the halls, letting my heart guide me. About a week ago, I came across an elfling, alone in the woods…" Lass trailed off in his tale, almost hesitating to continue.

Lancaeriel felt her heart begin to race. An elfling? Alone in the woods? Could it be that Rani was not here with Lass, but he had simply had a similar encounter to her own?

"Rani?" She asked quietly.

He looked at her and smiled. "Yes. An amazing child, if indeed a child she is…"

Lancaeriel had to wonder the same thing. Rani knew too much, manipulated too much to be a simple elfling.

"And what of you," he asked, his gaze demanding answers in a manner with which she was not familiar or comfortable.

Lancaeriel dropped her eyes, a sudden fear filling her heart. To tell her tale would make her vulnerable to him. She sensed he could be a friend, but she was afraid to take that step.

So she raised her head and stubbornly said nothing.

He searched her eyes curiously for a moment, but let it go, turning his eyes back to the stars as he continued speaking. "Rani told me you were her friend, so I do not need to explain the strangeness of her speech, or her ability to disappear at will. She spoke to me of a task, and led me to the clearing where the men held you, before she disappeared once more. I was to save you, without being captured…" He sighed heavily. "I failed. I am sorry."

Lancaeriel reached out, just able to touch his arm with her bound hands. When he looked down at her, she shook her head. "No, you have saved me from a horrible fate, and kept me from facing these men alone. I can never thank you enough for that. You could have escaped after we fell, but you did not."

The realization of just what he had done for her startled Lancaeriel. Here was a stranger who helped another in need, with no thought of himself. He could have been killed protecting her! Even now, he was captive because of her foolishness. And the only thing he had asked in return was her story, why she was here.

The thought shook her. She owed him for what he had sacrificed for her. In the face of such honor, she could no longer hide in her fear.

"Hesitantly, but gaining boldness as she spoke, she began to tell him her tale, of the loss of her parents, her brother… Of her deception and foolishness, all to avoid leaving the wood of her birth.

As she spoke, she found he listened patiently, his eyes filled with compassion. He listened without judging her actions, even seeming to understand her reasons for what she had done.

As she drew to the end of her story, Torel rose to wake the next man for watch duty. She was surprised to discover several hours had passed while they spoke.

"You should get some rest," Lass suggested. "Tomorrow will be difficult, and today has been almost more than you can bear."

Lancaeriel knew he spoke the truth. If she could sleep, her body would heal. And with him here, she found she could lose herself in elven dreams. She got as comfortable as possible with her hands bound.

With eyes half lidded, her last coherent thought was that had never learned his real name.

— ~ —

The moonlight that filtered through the trees provided just enough light for Gimli to make out Aragorn's tall form astride Halruin ahead of him. Gimli stared at the man as he led them at a quick pace through the trees. Gimli trusted Móroch's feet and eyes, so he held no fear of traveling by night in the forest, but he was worried about the man leading them northwest with such determination.

Aragorn did not dismount to look for signs of their friend, but rode confidently as if following something Gimli could not see.

He had no idea what had come over the king, but he was beginning to worry that Aragorn had taken a leave of his senses. Gimli looked from the man to the place just ahead of them, looking for a flicker, anything to tell him where this 'child' was that the man followed.

Gimli had been hesitant to follow some phantom through the woods. But in the end, he trusted Aragorn with his life and had followed him before after dead things…if that was what they followed now truly was. Was this really that different from the Paths of the Dead?

Gimli shuddered and reached a hand up to Moroch's warm neck. This was different because there was no elf here to assure him that all would be well, and Gimli was not certain what it was that they trailed in the dark.

Blast that elf! he thought. If only Legolas had brought him along when the elf first came here, they would not be in this situation now.

But the elf had not even told him about his people sailing…and Gimli found that the thought hurt. Legolas did not keep such things from him, yet, this time, he had. Gimli found that thought…disturbing.

So now here he was, off to rescue the infuriating creature, and once more following the king of men on a mysterious path.

As if sensing his distress, Aragorn turned to look back at him. "Gimli, I know you think I am crazy, but you must trust me. I can see her. And I believe… I think I might just know who she is…"

To Be Continued…

*In my verse, it is common for the Silvan people to shorten a longer name to a form of nick name. I am aware some people believe the elves did not do this, but I am of the opinion that elves, separated by great distance and time, would NOT have the same customs. So in regard to the use of elven nick names, I ask for some grace and creative license.

Lothinn: grey flower

Aellad: field pool

Lalfain: white elm