Chapter 15 - Dark Reunions
"They killed her. They killed her. She is dead." Lómëdil was sobbing so hard that his words were barely intelligible. His body continued to jerk and shake and he pushed himself back into Legolas, ignorant of the princes injuries.
Legolas sucked in his breath. He was in great pain but Lómëdil was hurting more severely in another way. He tried to console the crying elf but no measure of comfort and support could change that they were in this place and Lómëdil had obviously witnessed something horrible.
Legolas had a suspicion of what had happened to upset Lómëdil so much, but he needed to hear it from the distraught elf. There were few things that could cause an elf to so lose their composure and in a land so devoid of life and compassion to lose your one connection with everything you love would be enough to push anyone over the edge.
Lómëdil’s sobbing had quieted down and he had begun to mumble one thing repeatedly, "Nienna, Nienna." To hear the elf so lost was heart wrenching for Legolas. The sobbing and crying stung in his ears and caused his head to pound ever harder. He wished that he could take the distraught elf’s pain completely away that he could wish him back to Ithilien.
"Lómëdil, what has happened?" Legolas asked hesitantly. He hated to make Lómëdil relive the nightmare he had witnessed but he needed to know what had happened if he was going to have any chance of helping the elf at all.
Lómëdil didn’t answer the elf prince’s inquiry. He let out a low moan and pushed himself back into Legolas once again. Pain pierced through the elf once more, he knew that he would have to get Lómëdil to talk quickly or he would pass out from the pain that the dark elf was unconsciously subjecting him to.
"Lómëdil, I need you to tell me what happened out there. I need to know so that I can understand your pain. Please, you must speak to me."
"Nienna, they killed her my Lord, they just killed her." The dark elf slowly lifted his head and tried to see his prince, "It is so dark. Not just here in this cell. This land is so dark. Light does not come here. It is too overcome with evil. Your light does not even penetrate this darkness my Prince." He was rambling now and Legolas grew more concerned for Lómëdil’s stability. The dark elf rested his head back against Legolas’ chest once more and took a deep breath.
"We were out in the fields working. Adaria, Nienna and I. We were obeying them, doing what they told us. We knew that it was the only way to survive long enough for you to figure a way out of here. We worried about your safety, but we worked and waited.
"We worked day and night. During the day we worked inside the palace, cleaning and serving. At night we worked the fields. They watched us always. Eyes were everywhere. They saw everything. We were not permitted to speak with each other. We were only to do as we were told and not question.
"They came to take her. Nienna. They came and pulled her from the fields and they dragged her away from Adaria and me. She was frightened. I could see it so clearly in her eyes. She was so scared. She fought against them. She did not want to go with them. I do not know the reason that they came for her, but she did not want to go.
"I could not let them take her. We are bonded and I am supposed to protect her. I promised her father that I would not let any harm come to her. I went after her. I pushed the guards holding her. More guards came and I was knocked to the ground. The new guards began to strike at me with their hands and feet. I could hear her screaming. She was screaming for them to stop hurting me. She was screaming for them to let her go.
"I heard her struggling and fighting against the guards" Lómëdil stopped in his story, his voice hitched and he began to sob again. He was hyperventilating, fighting to bring in enough air to calm his lungs.
"Breathe Lómëdil. Take slow deep breaths." Legolas soothed. "You must calm yourself and tell me what happened to Nienna and Adaria."
Lómëdil began to force himself to take large, deep breaths. Legolas could feel tears wetting his chest and he slowly raised his hand and felt for the dark elf’s face. Placing his hand on Lómëdil’s forehead, his fingers fell upon a large, jagged opening across Lómëdil’s brow. The wound was sticky with blood and Legolas pressed his palm to it to slow the bleeding. He then gently brushed back Lómëdil’s hair and slid his hand down to wipe the tears from the dark elf’s face.
"I heard her fighting the guards." Lómëdil continued. "Then all fell silent. The guards attacking me stopped. Nienna stopped screaming. I looked to see what had caused the abrupt halt. She was just lying there on the ground. There was blood everywhere. There was so much blood. They slit her throat right there in the field."
The distraught elf let out another anguished moan. "They would not let me go to her. They forced me away and brought me here. She died alone. I did not get to tell her good bye. I did not get to tell her how much I love her."
He was completely quiet now. His breathing had slowed and he had stopped pushing into the prince. Legolas now rested his hand on Lómëdil’s chest feeling his heart. His heartbeat was steady yet weak. The dark elf had gone completely still with the exception of a slight tremble that shook his body.
Legolas whispered a silent prayer then leaned his head back into the corner he had become so accustomed to. He had failed, he was supposed to protect the elves in his colony. Yet here he was trapped, unable to keep his promise. I am so sorry. Please forgive me Nienna. Please.
"I am so sorry Lómëdil. I have failed you." A tear snuck out of the corner of the elf prince’s eye and he pulled the overwrought elf closer to him, ignoring his own pain. He thought about Adaria, where was she, what was happening to her. He feared that he would lose Lómëdil as well. That the dark elf would succumb to his grief and depart middle earth in search of his love.
He wondered where Aragorn was now. Did his friend know where he was? Was he sending aid? He hoped that Aragorn would come soon. He wasn’t sure how much longer they would last in this place. He could feel his energy fleeing him even as he sat there. He could feel Lómëdil’s fleeing as well.
As thoughts raced through the blonde elf’s mind, he ensured that Lómëdil’s heart still beat beneath his hand. Valar help us, give us strength. Then finally, the increased fatigue from the fight, the pain of his injuries and the ache in his heart was too much for Legolas to take and he quit and let sleep take him.
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Golden streams of light were just starting to crawl over the horizon as Alcandir rode into the town of Sadral. This was the closest town to the Harad/Gondor border so it was an obvious first stop.
All of the towns in Harad looked the same, white buildings of varying heights and lengths standing side by side, lining both sides of a narrow street. At one edge of each town there always stood a palace of sorts, where the Lord of that particular town resided. The palaces varied in appearance, some were larger than others, some more lavish, but they were always there.
The Lord of each town was another story all together. They were all different in appearance and disposition. The Lord of Sadral was a decent, fair man. He knew just about everything that was going on in his town and was extremely involved in the law making and enforcement. He had absolutely no interest in what was going on outside of Sadral and tried to stay out of the affairs of other towns and their Lords.
It was, for this reason, that traveling into Harad was a difficult and challenging task and Alcandir hated doing it. He had to be constantly aware of whose jurisdiction he was in and what quirky laws were in effect. Alcandir was comfortable in Sadral though. He had been there several times and knew many of the locals. It was a common stop for many men in his business and he always ran into at least one while visiting.
Sadral was just starting to quiet down as he rode through its streets. People were heading indoors to get out of the heat. Some looked up at him in curiosity, but the majority kept their eyes focused on what they were doing and didn’t acknowledge his presence at all.
There was only one inn in Sadral, fortunately the inn, aptly called The Inn, had a pub attached to it. The pub had good ale and decent food and should be quite active at this time of the morning. Pubs were a bounty hunter’s dream come true. They were the ears and eyes of one in Alcandir’s profession. Most bounty hunters and slave drivers were eager to brag about their most recent job and if you were able to find one who had already consumed a couple of ales then you could hear their entire working history.
Alcandir was relying on learning something in The Inn about recent slave runs and he knew that if someone had recently brought a group of elves into Harad news would travel fast.
After turning his horse over to the stable boy and ordering a pint at the bar, Alcandir made his way to a table against the back wall. He sat down and leaned back in his chair, making himself comfortable. He hadn’t planned on spending too much time in the pub this day. He was tired and just wanted a meal and a drink before he had a good days sleep in a real bed.
A bar maid brought Alcandir a plate of meat and bread and he sat back and watched the other men moving around the pub as he ate. He didn’t actually recognize any of the men drinking today, but the pub wasn’t as busy as he had anticipated.
Alcandir finished his meal, ordered another pint and lit up his pipe. He needed to do some real investigating over the next couple of days to determine whom Legolas had been sold to. He planned to spend a day and night in Sadral then move onto the next town which was a few days ride southwest, depending on the heat.
Marek it was called and Alcandir did not look forward to going there. The Lord of Marek was well known for his horrible temper and lack of compassion. Alcandir generally tried to avoid the town of Marek, but he could not afford to take any shortcuts with this job.
He had finished his second ale and pipe weed and was making to get up and go to bed when he was stopped by a familiar voice.
"Well, well, well, you are not retiring so early are you Alcandir? Least of all without having an ale with an old friend."
"I would hardly call you a friend." Alcandir retorted trying to hide the smile on his face.
"Come now, our last parting was not so bad, was it?"
"No parting from you is bad, so long as it increases the distance between us."
The two became quiet and searched each other’s eyes for the real intentions of their old acquaintance. Smiles began to spread over each face and they reached out and grasped each other by the arm.
"It is good to see you again Alcandir." The man laughed.
"And you as well." They each took a seat at the table that Alcandir had been occupying for the majority of the night.
Alcandir let out a sigh and shook his head in amazement at seeing his old friend. It was a comfort to see a familiar, friendly face in a land such as Harad and he hadn’t seen this such face in many years.
With a deepening smile Alcandir inquired with a small laugh. "So, tell me, Medero, what brings you to Sadral."