Middle Earth || OS

55. Meludir | Here You Are II

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As much as you loved and respected Bilbo, you weren't as enamored of his plan as Thorin apparently was.

The inside of the barrels were scratchy - you got at least three splinters in your fingers as you gripped onto the sides. And if you hadn't been so busy fighting for your life from murderous Orcs, you would have been hurling your guts out from the nauseating effects of the bouncy, swirling rapids.

And all the while, on such a wild, dangerous, daring ride to freedom, all you could think about was your guard. Your Meludir.

What had happened to him? Why hadn't he returned to you? Had his superiors, or worse yet, the King himself, had it up to their pointed ears with his frequent visits to your cell? Had Thranduil figured out that Meludir had taken one of his poetry books?

Your worries about Meludir made you shiver, not the water. And for the first time in a long time, you weren't even thinking about the quest or what perils lie ahead for you and your friends. It was the farthest thing from your mind.

Suddenly the ping and zip of arrows tore through the air, in every direction. You looked up at the banks and cliffs high above you: elves!

You twisted your head this way and that, looking for Meludir. You caught sight of the blond Elf prince, that long red-haired Elf, and several others, but that was it. You had too many enemies to fend off to keep looking for a gorgeous, caring, sweet near-stranger whom you loved.

Part of you didn't want him there, involved in this awful battle. And another part longed to see him again.

"DUCK!"

You recognized that voice.

Whipping your head around to your left, you saw Meludir, who glanced at you briefly and shouted the command to you again before kicking and slitting the throat of an approaching Orc.

Duck.

But you didn't. Not in time.

You smacked into a fallen tree and everything went dark.

When you came to, you were on a large expanse of rock, still drenched but drying in the sun, a loving hand cradled under your head.

Meludir was crouched next to you. His sweet smile and long hair greeted you first, followed by the peeking, relieved faces of the company. Everyone around you asked how you were. Exhausted, you just nodded and mouthed, "ok," though your forehead and the back of your neck were killing you.

There were also murmurs of "who is that Elf?" but no one bothered to wait for an answer. The stranger was tending to you, and that was all that mattered.

Your limbs felt as if they weighed a ton, but you managed to reach up and stroke Meludir's face gently, leaving a wet trail across his smiling cheek.

"Why didn't you come back to the cell?" you asked in a hoarse voice.

He reached into his boot and pulled out a large, crumpled white flower surrounded by glossy green leaves. "I was coming back to you with this, when there was talk of Orcs. I accompanied the other guards to search, but we didn't find anything until the barrels came down the river."

He brought the beautiful flower with curled petals closer, so you could get a good look. The fragrant smell brought you out of your haze.

"This is a magnolia," Meludir said. "It grows on a large tree in the king's orchard, the only one of its kind. The master gardeners have studied it for many, many years, and they can make neither head nor tails of why it continues to thrive here, or how it even arrived here. Our soil is not the type a magnolia tree needs. But it is loved and respected throughout the kingdom. When I'm on duty in the forest, I make sure I pass it as often as I can, because I know how fortunate we are to have it."

Meludir bent down closer to you. "It really should not be anywhere around here. And yet, here it is, flourishing."

You sat up carefully on your bottom and took the beautiful flower in your hands, nestling it tenderly as if it were a newborn baby, as more serious conversations among the Dwarves and Hobbit went on about how to get out of the area safely, without weapons.

"You can flourish in the Woodland Realm, with me," Meludir whispered. "Always."

You were motionless, the flower near your chin, your eyes seeing only Meludir's warm, sincere eyes.

"I will talk to King Thranduil," Meludir said. "He-"

"-would rather slit my throat than have you make a life with an escaped prisoner! A half elf, half human escaped prisoner, at that!"

"That won't happen. I have never loved another. He knows I am neither hasty nor foolish. I have my lord's trust. "

"You won't if you go to him with this unbelievable tale."

Both of you fell silent as you turned your head and saw that the Dwarves were getting antsy, especially Thorin and Dwalin. It was time to keep moving. You heard the very end of one conversation, in which Thorin said something about having two minutes.

Attempting to stand, you fell right back down when your head began to pound. Meludir caught you and lifted you into his arms just as you tucked the magnolia into your waistband.

"I will take you back," he said. "You need attention from the healers. Your injury could be serious."

"She's going nowhere near that Elvenking!" Thorin barked, coming up close.

"She is hurt," Meludir protested, tightening his hold on you. "Please. Let me take her back to our healers. Let me...let me care for her. I promise I will care for her, until she is well again and beyond. Please."

In that quick and silent way you always communicated with Thorin - a lift of the eyebrow here, a slight wrinkle of the nose there, a twitch of the upper lip - you told him that you trusted Meludir, and that the rumors he likely heard from the other members of the company about the guard's unusually long visits were true.

"Go," Thorin told Elf, noticing the bruise and rounded knot on your forehead. "Quickly."

Meludir rushed off with you before you had a chance to give a formal goodbye to the others. You gave them a melancholy wave, and, confused, all but Thorin waved back, until they disappeared from your view.

Though you would miss them, you knew friendships didn't end because of separation or distance. You would see them again, victorious after reclaiming Erebor.

You would see them again.

Meludir ran for at least two kilometers before you asked him to put you down. The pounding in your head was slightly less intense, and you thought a little walking would actually help, if only for a while.

You pulled the crushed magnolia from the top of your waistband and took in the unusual light scents of vanilla with a hint of lemon, slowing your pace.

Before you realized it, you were facing Meludir.

Like a bride.

All at once, you felt his mouth on yours and most of the pretty bloom fluttered from your hands. You wrapped your arms around him and reached for his hair as he pulled you close.

No bars between you. Finally.

"We shouldn't be here." That's all you could say when you broke the kiss, your fingers got lost in his hair.

"Yes we should," he answered, reaching down to kiss you again, neither of you aware that two young, out of place, unlikely magnolia saplings were flourishing side-by-side about two meters away.