Feä Bond (Legolas x OC)

Searching for you

Searching for you

Summer 2003 - Colorado

The sweat-soaked sheets seemed to weave a web around her, tendrils of pale cotton twisting around her limbs and tightening their trap as she trashed. As darkness descended upon her, Frances knew she was going to die, trapped into those foul beasts' lair. Already, she heard the shuffling of their horrendous bodies into the leaves of sickened trees, the slight vibration of their too numerous legs on her web mattress, and their whispers, their screeches.

The young woman was too terrified to let out more than a whimper; tears silently falling on her damp cheeks. She had but a few seconds before one of those ghastly spiders stung her and then... she would liquefy without a sound to be fed upon like a milkshake !

A terrible screech tore at her eardrums, and Frances tried to free her hands to cover them, shaking like a leaf. Another screech, a great splash and then... nothing. Nothing but the emptiness of forest around her, it's sickness quietly sweeping through Frances' mind. Suddenly, someone grabbed her arm and she screamed in terror, only to find a pair of familiar eyes.

"Daro !"

Frances" mouth closed in shock, her gaze fixed on the marchwarden. In a swish of his blade, the webs tangled around her limbs were severed, and right before she fell, his hand came to support her.

"Come, quickly," he added in westron.

Frances swallowed, and nodded as he darted off into the trees. It was a struggle to follow him, for he was all graced and agility in this tangled maze of branches. But then, just as the horizon lightened and she thought, with relief, that they would be free, Haldir turned to her. Frances nearly crashed against him.

"What... ?"

Haldir's features morphed into pain, then he fell to his knees. Frances jumped forward, receiving the marchwarden in her arms right before he crashed to the ground. A crimson line appeared on his back, blood flowing like a river. Behind him stood an Uruk, smiling, his sword raised high. Frances started in horror into the sadistic gleam of his yellow eyes, the horrendous stench of his body appalling. One mighty swing, and they would both be dead.

"UNSCHEDULED OFF-WORLD ACTIVATION"

The alarm shook the base, and Frances was startled awake.

"What the ... ?"

Rushing out of bed, she jumped into the uniform, trying to rein her frantic breathing. The nightmare, still vivid in her mind, combined with the panic of the alarm had her heart beating a hundred miles a minute. Her foot caught into the bottom of the military pants, and she toppled over, landing sideways on her bed. Her calf hit the metal railing of the bedframe.

"Fuckity fuck !", she swore, rubbing the sore spot.

It would probably bruise. The interruption gave her mind a much-needed break as she started thinking rationally. Maybe she should stay here, and have a shower instead of rushing to the gate room and be in people's way. Cheyenne mountain complex was filled to the brim with soldiers trained to respond to any kind of threat. And they could be pretty inventive. But if an evacuation was needed, the speakers would divulge the information. Here, no one really needed her help.

Sighing, Frances undressed and stepped into the shower. An hour later, the young woman made her way to the mess for breakfast. By now, she knew that the off-world activation had been SG11 returning early because of some disagreement with a group of locals, something that Mulder must have been unable to smooth out.

She respected her friend for being quite reasonable, and always accommodating. Yet, he was no trained anthropologist like Dr Jackson. It took a touch of geekitude to understand protohistoric cultures, a trait she shared with her mentor. Frances spent most of her time in Dr Jackson's office. Something that would be better qualified as a den such was the mess that covered every single surface. But the archeologist knew where every single piece of paper was, quite a feat in itself