Leandir
Rooted, hidden amongst the trees, Locke couldn’t help but feel cowardly in following the strict instructions laid out for him by Adras. He didn’t feel right about concealing himself when there was obvious trouble brewing in the clearing ahead of him. But he had been shocked by the sudden memory that assailed him.
Green leaf. Two simple words had sent him reeling, momentarily caught up in a vision of sorts. He had heard the feminine voice so vividly it was almost as though the woman had been standing next to him, whispering into his ear. Then, Locke’s inability to place the voice gripped his heart so thoroughly that he found himself almost paralyzed with grief.
It may have sounded selfish, but the elf had started to feel so comfortable and safe in his new home that he had almost forgotten about his present dilemma. It seemed almost easy to do, after all, he had forgotten everything else in his life. Perhaps his real life was not worth remembering. Maybe what he had found was better than what he had lost. Locke had to tell himself these things in order to cope and now he was finally starting to believe it all.
Now, that things were just about to spiral even further out of control then they already were. Because now Locke found himself stationed behind a thick, oak trunk watching a group of men approach and they didn’t look to be seeking to aid the man they rode toward.
Shouts echoed around him. Names flying about the leaves of the trees, shushing all animals within. Straining his ears to pick up on what was being said, Locke leaned forward allowing himself a better angle on the proceedings. The men had dismounted now and one had stepped toward Adras, his voice rising in anger as he addressed the old man.
What happened next happened so quickly that Locke wasn’t sure it had occurred at all. The strange man, reached out and roughly lashed out at Adras and the words he spoke became abundantly clear. "Where is he?"
As though he weren’t in control of his own actions, Locke stepped out from the shelter of the trees and began to move quickly across the clearing. His head began to throb at the quick action and the ground tilted, throwing him sideways. Managing to catch his balance before falling to the dirt, Locke pressed on, concentrating on straightening his vision and calming the pounding of his own heart and head, his final destination never leaving his train of vision.
As he moved closer to the scuffle, dirt and dust had become airborne, clouding the ongoing scene. The prone figure of one laying on the ground briefly caught his attention but only fleetingly, he knew that he needed to get to Adras.
Dust filled his eyes, nose and mouth causing him to cough, the pressure of the action throwing his equilibrium off once again. Pressing a firm palm to his bandage covered head, Locke pressed on, squinting to see through the cloud.
"ADRAS!"
Straining his ears over the other noises of shouting and fighting, Locke searched for any type of response from Adras.
"NO! Stay Put!" It came from his left and Locke shifted his weight to force the turn. Once again, he pitched, falling to his knee. But he wouldn’t be swayed, he was up almost as quick as he had gone down and Locke continued to stumble toward the sound of the old man’s shaky, strained voice.
Then he saw what he had been searching for. "ADRAS!" His savior had fallen to the ground. One hand clutched at his chest, the other holding him propped up ever so slightly. Just as the elf found himself tumbling to Adras’ side, the old man’s arm gave out and Locke grasped him, cradling him in his tired, thin arms.
"Adras, what ails you? What is happening?" His voice quaked and he felt Adras shudder in his hold.
"Locke", the elf stared intently into the old, wrinkled face, despair filling him as Adras fought to stay focused. Tears filled his eyes, blurring his vision and making the face of the man he had grown to love so quickly, swim in and out of focus. "Locke. The name is not fitting, for you were my key. Do not give up. Thank you."
NO! He swept his trembling hand over Adras’ forehead and face. "You are okay." His voice shivered, his words coming barely over his heavy breath. "I will save you. I will help you. Just like you did for me."
Adras grabbed Locke’s hand in his own, intertwining his fingers with the elf’s. "Thank you." Then Locke felt the man still, his breath stopped and the warmth fled his body.
"NO!" His scream radiated around him, weaving through the clearing, forcing everyone and everything to freeze. It felt like hours that he sat there, cradling his friend’s lifeless body, but it was mere seconds before he felt the presence of another at his side. He knew who it was just from the experience of being around the man before.
Dorias’ hand appeared before Locke’s eyes and rested gently upon Adras’ chest. It froze there for a moment almost as if not daring to believe what it didn’t feel. "Father?"
His heartbroken tone nearly caused Locke’s own heart to break further and he lifted his eyes to the son. A long jagged cut ran the length of Dorias’ brow, blood spilling forth almost completely covering his face. The sight chilled the elf and he raised a tentative hand to the wound. Dorias lashed out striking his hand away and Locke recoiled in shock. "Do not touch me." He growled. "Everything you touch is ruined. You should not have come here. You should not have come."
Locke gently released his hold on Adras and slowly lowered the old man to the ground. "I am so sorry." He rose reluctantly to his feet and step back. "So sorry."
Dorias sat bent over his father, seemingly ignorant to all else around him. Blood from his wound dripped down onto the still figure beneath him presenting an eerie sight. Locke inhaled deeply, shakily and stepped further away, his breath catching in his chest, his feet shuffling in the dirt.
"Elf!" A new voice exploded behind him and Locke spun to address whomever it was that spoke, the motion, once again, almost sending him to the ground. "I thought you dead elf, for you looked it."
Locke’s brow furrowed in confusion and he tilted his head in contemplation. Did he know this man? Should he?
"Where is your friend elf?" A malicious scowl marred the man’s already unpleasant countenance. "He left you did he not?"
"I know not of what you speak."
Dipping his head as though irritated and scoffing as he spoke, the man stepped ever closer to the elf. "Do not play daft with me. You owe me a horse elf and I think I shall take it out of your hide."
He lunged toward the elf now and Locke stepped back only to run directly into another, smaller man who stood directly behind him. Strong arms slunk around the elf’s thin body, wrapping up his arms and pinning them to his body. Locke had no desire, nor strength to fight, as well he was curious about that which the man was accusing him.
"HOLD!" Once again, the current scene was interrupted by a foreign voice. "What is going on here?"
Another man, atop a regal, strong horse rode up, not stopping until he was practically on top of the elf and his captor. He dismounted quickly and pushed his horse away then came to stand just in front of the one who had been addressing Locke. He stood mere inches taller than the elf’s accuser, his hair was a shade darker than the other man’s and his eyes were as black as coal.
"Rathir, what in all of Middle Earth is going on here. Let that elf go." He glanced down to where Adras’ still body lay, Dorias still having not moved. "Dorias?"
A quiet, less confident voice than was accustomed for the son of his savior, squeaked forth. "Dead."
"Do you need aid Dorias? You are bleeding quite profusely." This man’s voice was so strong and commanding that Locke, himself, couldn’t help but stand at attention.
"I am fine. I will live." Dorias shifted and slid his hands beneath his father’s body then rose staggeringly to his feet. "He killed my father. The elf should hang." Without another word, he shuffled into the direction of the cabin.
Locke’s chest tightened at the sight and he moved to follow. "Adras."
"Hold." Came the command from the newly arrived man. "No one leaves until I know what has happened here. You left the town in quite a hurry Rathir, care to tell me why?"
Rathir glared menacingly at the elf, his lip curled in disdain. "It is none of your concern Leandir."
"All that goes on in this area is my concern Rathir." He cut the other off. "It is as the townspeople will it. Now, why do you hold this elf and Gods why is Adras dead?"
Rathir turned his glare to Leandir now, the look of disdain not flinching. "We hold the elf because he is a horse thief and he tried to kill me and my men."
A look of complete disbelief flitted across Leandir’s face before he schooled himself back to an unreadable expression. "What is your name?" He addressed the elf now.
Locke felt queasy at the question. How do you answer a question to which you know not the answer? It is just the beginning of a very large mystery. "I am called Locke." He stated rather hesitatingly.
"Locke, is what this man says true? Did you attempt to kill him and take his horse in the process?" Leandir had stepped toward Locke now, circling around him, seemingly scanning over him as though looking for any signs of truth.
Locke didn’t answer, he couldn’t answer, he didn’t know the truth. Perhaps he had taken this man’s horse, even trying to take his life in the process. Could it be true that he was a thief and a murderer? Locke just didn’t know the answer to that.
"Locke? Do you understand what it is I am asking?"
"He understands Marshall. He speaks our language perfectly. I know this because he spoke rather clearly when he demanded my horse!" Rathir moved to step toward Locke but was quickly intercepted by Leandir.
"Stay your aggression Rathir. We will let the people decide the truth behind what you say." Leandir reached out to Locke and the elf shied away some. Leandir dropped his hand to his side and turned back to Rathir. "I think you have done enough here Rathir. Take your men and get out of my sight. We will set a trial for noon tomorrow."
Locke watched with some relief as Rathir and his men gathered their horses, mounted and rode quickly out of the clearing and away from the devastating scene. He breathed a deep sigh and began to move toward the cabin.
"Master Elf." Leandir pulled him back. "I need you to come with me."
Locke felt his chest constrict once again and the pounding in his head returned anew. "He is my friend. I must see to him."
Leandir steered the elf towards his own horse, being gentle with his grasp and treatment. "His son will care for him now. We need to get you to town where you will be safe and where I can see to your wounds."
Raising a shaking hand to his bandaged head, Locke paused in contemplation of what was. "I do not remember stealing his horse. I do not remember much at all." He stated matter-of-factly. He didn’t feel comfortable losing this bit of information but he felt that the marshal should know, perhaps it would help him in the long run.
"That remains to be seen. For now I just want to get you taken care of and give Dorias some peace to take care of matters." Leandir all but lifted the elf onto the horse then mounted up behind him. "I do not want to have to bind your hands. Do I have your word that you will not do anything foolish?"
Locke felt his shoulders slump as the man nudged the animal into action. "I do not know where I would go or what I would do. I am at your mercy sir."
Several miles away a small group departed Imladris at a quick pace. Two were identical in appearance, the other two as different as night and day, one dark in appearance, the other shining like the sun. Four elves they were and there mission was dire. Time was running out, each could feel it in their own way. Something was happening.
One of the twin riders stopped, turning to look back at the entry to the Last Homely House. He had made a promise and he had no intention of failing in that promise. Gripping the mane of his horse tightly, he tilted his head to the sky, lightening with the fading of the sun, and sent up a quick prayer. Then speaking urgent words to his animal he tore off through the trees.
Finally, the puzzle was coming together and the mystery would, hopefully, be solved soon.